Finally, after the oven of August is over, fall has arrived and the world has cooled, bringing with it the placating slowness of body and spirit as the energy drops in both thermometers and humans alike and we both feel the chill, which really, if you think about it, is the only real similarity between humans and thermometers.
Today is one of my favorites of fall: A grey blanketed day.
And, last night was one of those deadly cool fall evenings where the stars rain down cold light twice bright then during summer.
Of course, being that I was up late staring vacantly into a pimply night sky, fighting back an insomniac’s curse, has ended up causing me no end of bleary-eyed exhaustion throughout the rest of today.
As is often the case for a night owl such as myself, I’m incapable of going to sleep until deep into the night when more sensible are well past their third dream about the game-show where you could win a date with John Ashcroft, or, in the alternate, take a spin from the wheel of dead cows, and just beginning their fourth dream in which the boxing nun puppet attempts a U.N. overthrow by transmitting anti-disestablishment spam recipes through her ruler.
As I’ve mentioend before, my dream-state gets a little… surreal.
So, when my exhaustion gets the better of me, I take a short power nap at work and do the one thing that I can’t seem to remember ever doing when I sleep for more than an hour at a time…. dreaming.
And, wouldn’t you know it, my dream-state indicates to me a rather frightening level of brash, cooped-up insanity, ready to come squealing out into the world in full regalia while shrieking at the top of its lungs “I am the Mitten King!”
So, I’ve been doing what any good writer would do when faced head-on with such a disturbing level of self-awareness: I’ve been writing down my dreams.
No, I’m not going to share them with you, at least not yet. I will at some point, but I suspect that this time will be far in the future.
This is yet another example of why blogging, or at least writing in general, has become so important to me in so few months. Now, I’m becoming aware of anything and everything that goes on around me. And, in place of analyzing everything until my skull hurts, I’m satisfied with merely taking it in and enjoying it.
Oh, and of course, forming my wit and neuroticism into some kind of thin smear across the Internet, thereby defacing an already defaced cultural artifact.
But, simply put, I’m beginning to think “Like a Blogger”.
Joe mentioned a while back that he wants the shirt which reads “I’m blogging this.” Simple and amusing, if you ask your average Joe Internetter. But to me, this was a vague tip of the hand to something greater. I’m beginning to write in my head, about every little situation that arises, every little tuft of cloud I observer, every interaction between those on the sidewalk that occurs.
Instead of just analyzing, I’m now also creating. And it gives me a thrill to do more than just process raw data like some sputtering machine.
With September losing its clutch on time and the inevitable trundling towards the chill of October, I expect that my second favorite season, Autumn, will hold a great deal of creative appeal to me, as those observables surrounding me create the ambience that most stimulates me.
Especially on a grey blanketed day.
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