Mashup #02
Disordered Prose
Every time I send a new post, notifications ring, and a dozen subscribers get their wings.
Can you see me?
I’m waving.
The self-sabotage is strong in me today. What’s new, right? I mean, I wanted to tell you a story, something inspirational, moving, perhaps insightful, a guide to live by, a one-size-fits-all allegory, a panacea for suffering and mistakes, a lesson for each year I’ve lived, or, better yet, ten ways to do something you didn’t know you were doing wrong. But then I scrolled through Notes and changed my mind.
So I decided to write a few paragraphs about the title of this abomination and conjure as many meanings as possible, a task I’ve been meaning to do for a while. I have several definitions and puns written on scraps somewhere. Too bad my desk is more of a wreck than the unintentional mullet cluttering up my neck. I keep thinking spiders are crawling on me. Then there’s the dread, which has nothing to do with spiders and everything to do with oversharing.
If you haven’t read the previous Mashup, the following words might send you packing. I probably won’t do a lot of them. But they’re fun to write. Believe it or not, they take several hours to put together. What seems random is not.
It all starts with an idea, the search for one, the right one, any one, must be perfect, pretty, and want me back. It’s good to have goals, even for ideas. And if you can’t find a vivacious idea, write about not finding a vivacious idea. Or ramble.