Does everyone here know what the song "Stinkfist" by Tool is about? 
I'm not actually into that or anything, but I like the song as a kind of metaphor for the damage I do to myself strip-mining myself to do my writing. Or, as I said in my livejournal the other day, I often feel when I'm writing science fiction that I'm attempting to be a prophet. That kind of work is tiring, both the strip-mining and the prophecy.
Sometimes I wonder what nasty half-digested piece of writing I will retch next. I never write anything happy. Sometimes there is a sense of some kind of salvation in my writing, but generally it is the kind of salvation that no one can find.
And this is funny, because, lest I sound dis-integrated, I'm basically a happy person, as I've said. (A real sick puppy this past couple of days though.) But my writing is inevitably from the darker side of myself.
Like anyone cares.
If I ever get famous someone will dig up this crap and crucify me with it. That sounds like a lovely time.
So erm... do I want to be famous? Kinda. A cult following would be nice. I don't really ever want to hit Stephen King status, but William Gibson status would be great. So yeah, I am an attention-starved whore. That should come as no surprise.
Right now I've got a nasty cramp in my side. Ugh. It might be my lung, or maybe I just bruised a rib or something. I don't know. I'm feeling like my blood sugar is screwy too.
So maybe my mood isn't the best right now. I'm seeing the doc tomorrow to get more insulin, and hopefully I will feel less jacked-up after that. I probably need to take a thyroid medication or something too, the doctor says.
I thought of a song today, which I am going to play when Christ returns and I get a band together. The very same day.
It's called "A Diamond Record." In case you didn't know, a Diamond is the record industry's award above platinum, for selling 10 million records. The last person to win one was Shania Twain. The one before that was Michael Jackson
So anyway, the couple of lines I've got started, not sure about the tune yet. And if you happen to be in a band and think the lines are cool, you can steal it, as long as you don't sue me at the end of time when my version comes out.
A Diamond Record
Verse:
This is going to be a diamond record
I'm just like you Shania Twain
I'm gonna feed y'all some cotton candy
That is sure to rot your little brain
You can fuck going platinum bitches
All that gets you is love and sex
If I don't get the hype and the push
I'm going to ring those accountants fucking necks
Chorus:
A Diamond Record
Is all I ask
Come along for the ride
And kiss my ass.
Verse:
This is going to be a diamond record
I can sing just like Michael J
The fact that he repulses me
Shouldn't ruin your fucking day
Because you accountants are all the same
Its a cellophane wrapper and a magazine
That fills your wallet and raises your stocks
And what it takes is a man with a dream
Repeat Chorus 2x and Out.
Now wasn't that fun? Well, it's time to make dinner. I'm over and out.
Tim.
I'm not actually into that or anything, but I like the song as a kind of metaphor for the damage I do to myself strip-mining myself to do my writing. Or, as I said in my livejournal the other day, I often feel when I'm writing science fiction that I'm attempting to be a prophet. That kind of work is tiring, both the strip-mining and the prophecy.
Sometimes I wonder what nasty half-digested piece of writing I will retch next. I never write anything happy. Sometimes there is a sense of some kind of salvation in my writing, but generally it is the kind of salvation that no one can find.
And this is funny, because, lest I sound dis-integrated, I'm basically a happy person, as I've said. (A real sick puppy this past couple of days though.) But my writing is inevitably from the darker side of myself.
Like anyone cares.
If I ever get famous someone will dig up this crap and crucify me with it. That sounds like a lovely time.
So erm... do I want to be famous? Kinda. A cult following would be nice. I don't really ever want to hit Stephen King status, but William Gibson status would be great. So yeah, I am an attention-starved whore. That should come as no surprise.
Right now I've got a nasty cramp in my side. Ugh. It might be my lung, or maybe I just bruised a rib or something. I don't know. I'm feeling like my blood sugar is screwy too.
So maybe my mood isn't the best right now. I'm seeing the doc tomorrow to get more insulin, and hopefully I will feel less jacked-up after that. I probably need to take a thyroid medication or something too, the doctor says.
I thought of a song today, which I am going to play when Christ returns and I get a band together. The very same day.
It's called "A Diamond Record." In case you didn't know, a Diamond is the record industry's award above platinum, for selling 10 million records. The last person to win one was Shania Twain. The one before that was Michael Jackson
So anyway, the couple of lines I've got started, not sure about the tune yet. And if you happen to be in a band and think the lines are cool, you can steal it, as long as you don't sue me at the end of time when my version comes out.
A Diamond Record
Verse:
This is going to be a diamond record
I'm just like you Shania Twain
I'm gonna feed y'all some cotton candy
That is sure to rot your little brain
You can fuck going platinum bitches
All that gets you is love and sex
If I don't get the hype and the push
I'm going to ring those accountants fucking necks
Chorus:
A Diamond Record
Is all I ask
Come along for the ride
And kiss my ass.
Verse:
This is going to be a diamond record
I can sing just like Michael J
The fact that he repulses me
Shouldn't ruin your fucking day
Because you accountants are all the same
Its a cellophane wrapper and a magazine
That fills your wallet and raises your stocks
And what it takes is a man with a dream
Repeat Chorus 2x and Out.
Now wasn't that fun? Well, it's time to make dinner. I'm over and out.
Tim.
punknitemike:
hit me up sometime when ya want me to come back out there so you can burn those JACK OFF JILL cds i have, ok?