D: Drowning in the mist

Okay, so I've had a cup of inspiration-juice (aka caffeine) and I'm ready to rock and roll.

I'd like to start by apologizing - to the faithful readers and more importantly to myself - for becoming so melodramatic in recent days. I don't take back a damn word of what I said, mind you, but I know I'm better than that frustrated reactionary bullshit. At least I hope so.

What's got me lifted today is a topic that's been on my mind a lot recently; mortality, specifically my own death. I don't know how I got onto it... imagining myself getting hit by a car or something... but I was trying to imagine my funeral; a mild fascination of mine recently, as I've mentioned before. Naturally the cause of death affects the mood of the thing, so I was assuming it was an accident what got me. I tried to imagine who would say what, how I'd be remembered; more by my friends than family. I say this because despite the candid nature of this blog, I'm a pretty private and guarded person (am I?) but hopefully I'd be remembered as someone who was shy but gregarious... that I could make people laugh and show 'em a good time despite my occasionally awkward persona. Okay, more than occasionally.

I think everyone would have a similar outlook on me in that way (at least I'd like to be optimistic and think that.) At school, (Sheridan or White Oaks,) how I always seemed to have some remark, how I was good for a conversation, hopefully that I was good at cheering people up... but then again we can't forget my dark side, because boy howdy did that one ever leave an impression on people. Let's face it, I have a damn temper on me; easily frustrated, insecure as all hell, paranoid much of the time... part of my quirky charm. I reckon this would be recalled by Amanda J. (who I hope would be among the most distraught) who would recall an instance midway through this year when I went on a panicked, frustrated rant about how terrified I was that I wouldn't get an internship (in retrospect, a very silly thing to worry about, but at the time very important) and my general ineptitude, exposing all my fears and hang-ups wide open in public. That's the contradiction I embody, I imagine. And that, weirdly enough, is what I hope would be celebrated. "That Scott... he could be such a frustrated person, but God was he charming, and Lord almighty was he cool." Morbid though that is...

My main point is one I've also broached before... and it's one I'm a bit conflicted about. If I should die, heaven forbid, before my time, given my propensity as a writer, would my PC then be ransacked for material? Would it see print, even the stuff I thought sucked? The stuff I've got on my computer could probably fill several volumes already, between the poetry, short stories, plays, scripts, proposals/concepts, assorted fiction, song lyrics, essays, rants, news articles... not to mention this blog, which, at post #799, is a novel itself, after excessive pruning. But for now, most of the not-so-embarrassing stuff is on Interneta.

But I think everyone I've known since Grade 3 has had some expectation in the back of their mind that I would eventually accomplish something big. And I hope I do; lord knows I've been working on it. Not to put so much pressure on myself, or to sound like I'm full of shit, but I seem to have that mark of someone who had something big in him... that's how teachers always seemed to treat me, anyway.

But enough death and gloom. The evening has got me abuzz. I went out for a walk in the hazy, misty overcast evening air... it was beautiful, it was. Decidedly springlike. and though my mind was on death, my soul was feeling like rebirth. Soddenly my lungs are filled with crisp, clean air, and my blood is running pure and electirc. I don't know. Maybe this feeling won't last, but it's a natural high (so it isn't meant to, only to be enjoyed.) And I oughtta pursue a little creation of my own while I have the mood. Eric and I have been plotting out the next Sewerman series, and this is no idle clowning either. We started brainstorming back in April and have concocted what looks to be our finest work yet, we're both very excited (although the creation process is far from done yet.)

I've been doing a lot of cleaning. If I were the type to look into psychology I might say that "because I cannot clean the clutter from my life and mind, I clean it from my room and basement." but that's bullshit I say, I'm just bored and with an excess of energy.

I have also been scavenging any source I can for Mp3's, including jacking a bunch of random ones off Eric's computer earlier today (mostly obscurities I have little interest in, but there is at least some good stuff there) and any old CD I can get my hands on. This is in compensation for not having my old harddrive in full and thus my massive old MP3 collection. I miss them very much and this can't really make up for it... but then again I had more Mp3s than space on this unfortunate (yet lovable) little 2G iPod anyhow... it'd be a conundrum when I do end up re-instating that harddrive.

The secret is in the dominoes. Watch 'em tumble, baby.

Watch HBO's Flight of the Conchords if you get a chance.

One thing I can tell you is you've got to be free (still on a Beatles kick.)

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto