Writing Sessions: Head Rush

Jump the gun

Dynamic parlance pumps this ride:

You know the absolute edge of saying anything that comes rushing in through your head?  Without any thought to wit or wonder?  Playing the dynamics sweepstakes.  Right here at the edge.  No editing no turning away.  Just let the words run.  Maybe not unguarded but certainly unrefined.  Stylists, purists, master craftsmen all said, this is so much bullshit.  Any old man can string a sentence of seeming intelligence by just letting his mouth runaway with him.  Show up to everyone what a fool he is inspite of the genius crouch.

Sheesh.  I said.  The reference terms suck.  Who really gives a fuck about brilliance or rank mediocrity (OK, I do – who wouldn’t?  Especially when you stake your craft?).  Tum tee dad um.  We stand here at the edge of the divide.  This is my favorite spot you see.  The divide.  The point of confusion and chaos.  Everyone lookin like assholes spouting theories and pointing in every direction but the right one.  This where I like to shine while I secretly laugh in contemptuous delight at your failings.  Give you a leg up in the right direction? Yeah, right so that you can fall flat on your face.  I hate you so for being you.  Stupid.  I know I know, this is a really bad thing to say.  But open soul surgery said lay it all bare.  Dig out the innards. 

There is a school of thought, which has strong support in many realms, which calls for closely guarding your thoughts and jealously hoarding your feelings.  I tried to subscribe to that school.  Seriously.  Sincerely.  But I am a bad liar.  To myself.  It seems the primary requirement for showtime shine is to effectively lie to yourself.  I failed that entry requirement many times.  I tried you know.  Really sincerely tried.  They look so smart and polished and ready to rule the world in benevolent benediction.  Draped over with hot n sexy nuffins that makes your cock ache but leaves your heart untouched.  Macho bazaar.  Diva parlours.  Any one of ‘em with a look and smile could catapult you into the hall of fame.

But I prefer listenin to Belle Star…

You can't play it safe
And still go down in history
So saddle up the horses
'Cos we're headed for the hall of fame

 

And for all my love of gettin nekkid, I am still very much a master of deception.