Weird, isn’t it?
The impulse to throw stuff down here can burn like a fever, post after post, boom-bang-bing, and then suddenly, the well is dry. Some signal in the brain comes on, and I’m inexplicably done for awhile.
So I’m sitting here thinking vaguely about virus mutations, learning disorders, and how cold my left foot and right arm feel in comparison to the rest of my body. That’s probably not very scintillating to the world at large.
I’m wondering if suddenly being able to sleep the night through after a stretch of that mysterious insomnia crap is integrated somehow with the writing urge.
Is insomnia some vague cousin of obsessive-compulsive disorder?
Have you ever seen that movie, ‘Becoming Jane’ with the princess chick, and the new guy from Penelope who is so damn appealing? I’ll google his name, but he’s cut from the same cloth as Shia LaBeouf, only I’d wrap myself up in the Jane dude’s cloth (if I weren’t already enamored of someone 10x’s more awesome), and wear it all day, warm against the skin.
Oh. James McAvoy is his name.
Seriously? I didn’t know it was that dude from ‘Wanted’.
Why do I think less of him, just cus he’s worked with Angelina Jolie? He doesn’t even look like the guy from that movie-
Well, he can still be my hoodie, but I’m not going to let him be my underwear.
I feel a strong urge to stop babbling now, but I was going to say something about the title- and inspiration. That one of the Gods, (I think Egyptian?) was so jealous of the celestial body, that he ate the sun. Then his eyes glowed, and he got even more belligerent about the whole sun-swallowing ordeal, so an army of undead soldiers and two important cats had to attack him and made him choke up the sun again, so the world wouldn’t die, and poets would still write and not have their left foot frozen, and stuff like that.
The cat part always stops me a little bit.
“If you swallow the sun, you shall face the furor of ten thousand undead soldiers. …. and also feel the wrath of Fluffy and Snowball.”
You’d think the big swing-factor there was heartburn, not house-pets.
K. I’m gonna go eat the sun.