clashing iron fruit

7 Oct

the title is a band name that spontaneously came to me as I was waking up this morning. Could be a high-energy ska band, with a keytar somehow integrated into the shindig and a afro’d man playing very loud trombone.

Anyway, to the point: I keep journals. Lots of journals. I am a tad of a compulsive writer- I enjoy writing on things, anything, all the time. So the necessity for said journals. My friend RYAN (who I have mentioned before and am mentioning again) has asked me if he can scan one of said journals, and I’ve let him. I will maybe make the scanned pages into another blog, tentively titled “Ramblings of A Disjointed Soul” or something of the sort- hell, it might just be called something stupid like…like Clashing Iron Fruit. That is a pretty badass band name, though, I will not lie.

Better than the Flaming Hedgeclippers. If something is going to be flaming in your band name, you have to do it right. Think of whatever the hell is flaming airbrushed onto a van. The Flaming Lips did it right- VOOM! Lips! Flaming! On the hood of a 1960’s era VW van! That is damn awesome. Flaming hedgeclippers? Notsomuch. Be choosy when picking your band name. ‘Nother good flaming name would be somethin’ like FLAMING LUMBERJACKS- not very cool on the hood of a van but I can just see one manly lumberjack, dressed in flannel, just sitting there on a stump on FIRE. He’s so badass he’s not even acknowledging the flames. He’s too awesome to even care that he’s slowly reacting violently with oxygen to produce carbon compounds. He’s just a lumberjack.

And this is why I do not meddle with mind-altering substances. I am lucid enough already, and I know I used that word wrong, but that was always how I thought it was supposed to be used due to a Verve song that had the phrase “lucid dreams” in it, and I thought it meant CRAZY dreams, not SUPER CLEAR dreams, which is a little redundant ‘cos you wouldn’t mention dreams in a song unless they were really clear, or maybe erotic. I dunno.

Dammit this post is turning into a stream of conciousness post, why can I not stop writing these random paragraphs, I don’t know. I haven’t written anything for a while, so I suppose this is like detoxing; writing all the thoughts that go through your mind for fifteen minutes down and making people read them. I just spelled read with two e’s. What the shit.

I am also beginning to swear more in my writing, perhaps because standing backstage during play rehearsals there is a LOT of nasty language. I do not usually swear because I like to reserve swearing for instances when it is really needed, so instead of having to go on a rampage when something bad happens I can just simply yell “Shit!” and people will know something is wrong. Oh, the joys of reserving anger. I am not a very anger-forward person. Not to say I don’t get angry- oh, you’ll know if I do- but I don’t get angry very often at all. If you ever think I’m actually angry often, I’m probably only a little annoyed. When I get angry, I break things- I’m like She-Hulk except without the growing and turning green. Why do they turn green, anyway? Shouldn’t they turn, say, Day-Glo red? Or a bright orange? Green seems like such a peaceful colour…Strange. Anyway, I break things when I get angry, thankfully I am not often pissed off enough to get that angry. Usually I’m like a jellyfish- I go with the flow. Yay!

FLIPPER CHILDREN.
Dammit I can’t find an image on Google, so imagine a flipper child.

Ooh. Flippy.

So what I was kind of originally getting to was this: I am writing more poems and they are kind of rhyming, which is just a little weird for me. I do not usually rhyme. Rhyming is way out of my league. I suppose it thought itself to be in my league and joined the “Blare’s Non-Rhyming Free Verse Poem” group, but I’m not sure how long its membership lasts.

 

DRILLS.

Ciao guys.

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