embrace

I am about to write perhaps the most depressing sentence I've written in months: I think in tweets.

What I mean by this is that none of my thoughts go further than 140 characters. And what I mean by that is that my attention span has gotten even shorter, which none of us thought was possible. I have done the impossible! I am superhuman! But I might actually be a robot! I am superrobot!

So this Twitter Brain I now possess makes it challenging for me to write worthwhile posts. I sure know how to promote my blog! <--- Sarcasm. I'm not here to promote anything, okay? I am here to be self-deprecating in a totally relatable and charming way. I am here to dump out my various 140 character thoughts for friends and lovers and strangers and haters to read and be puzzled by. I am here, take me to your leader. Twitter Brain Thoughts (Some May Exceed 140 Characters) (Don't Count the Characters, That's Just Weird): *I finished my Tolstoy book! HOOOOORAY!!! And also dammit! Dammit because it was great and I love Tolstoy and I don't think he's coming out with any new books anytime soon. I could be wrong. Oh yes, and I read Resurrection by that damn man. Damn! Damn! Damn! Now I am reading The Mill on the Floss by MS. George Eliot. Floss... That reminds me... I forgot to brush my teeth today. Don't sue me! Just don't come too close to my mouth! Or to my face or my body or my soul or my feet. Definitely not my feet. My feet are in some serious need of a little TLC. Look, I'm joking about not coming close -- kind of joking. I do enjoy my solitude and find it hard to "let people in," but I also kinda sorta totally miss human interaction and connection. I might have to start making an effort to be social, huh? And that means I'll have to make an effort to brush my teeth occasionally.

*Okay, that first thought far exceeded the 140 character limit. But who's the jerk who's imposing these limits? C'mon, maaan! (Assuming it's a man.) (It's always a man.) Break those chains or whatever! Live on the edge! Speaking of living on the edge...

*...I want to join a motorcycle gang. Not true. I do, however, want to take up some hobbies, join a few clubs, maybe even volunteer somewhere sometime someplace somehow. I want to do these things because I, well, just do, but also because it would help me to break out of my rigid routines and strict schedules. Breakin' those chains again, you know? Trying to, at least. I have never been a spontaneous soul -- and it's not as if I have to suddenly do a 180 and become the poster child (WOMYN) of spontaneity, but maybe I can try to do a 45? Did that make sense? I don't know how numbers work. Basically, I will try in my own small ways to jump in without obsessively thinking about and researching and examining the metaphorical water.

*Metaphorical water. Psssh.

*I lied about not knowing numbers. I am damn good at numbers and math and pole vaulting.

*I lied about pole vaulting.

I never know how to end these non-post posts. (What makes a post, though? I am holding myself to unrealistic expectations and imaginary rules. Typical! Also not productive or necessary!) I'll end it with pictures. Always pictures.