Almost everything in my life has been an ephemeral experience - be it the excitement to get my driving license or my craving for butter chicken as the main course every meal of my day. I quickly loose that zeal I have at kick-off, at the start of something new. This blog is a super representative example. Last post was 18th Feb. And now I am psychologically dissecting my brain-rane about why I haven’t written for so long, before which I am yawning shamelessly.
Since its me who’s in the box this time, I am obviously inclined to talk about its positivistic charm before diving into its surly side. Ehhhh….. hmmmm…. Alright I can’t think about anything that might be charming about loosing interest quickly ...for now, but I’ll get back to this after dealing with the negativity.
It is a sad commentary on my attention span isn’t it? I keep griping about it a lot but the only picture that comes to my mind is that of my dog Bully sitting inside my car chasing its own tail with the windows up. Why that picture? You see dogs have extremely low attention spans. They attention swings wildly with their appetite for food, sex and self-preservation. When my dog (who expressively loves car rides) is all excited about her next doggy trek adventure in the car, her drive peaks. But after a while in that toy car, although the drive and her drive are still in symphony, she finds smelling her own butt more amusing. Now I am not suggesting that I share some common planes with Bully – especially the smelling my own butt fetish, but I can’t fail to see a pattern. This post is clearly not healthy for me if I were a prospect in the dating world since attention is what women want, most than their advice infected Cosmos. But gosh, I think I just spawned my next subject on the blog : women’s Attenciency Immutable Defectatious Syndrome. I’ll save it for next time. Clearly off target these previous 2 lines.
Getting back to all that’s bad with ephermeralism …( If there a philosophy based on 'ephermeralism', it would be an irony if it was ever complete). It’s the creation of hope and public support that feels most pitiful to let down. Almost as though running out of bullets when your friend pleads with you to kill him because he has half his body missing (I feel so sick about me now because this is the only line in the whole 3 paras before where I did not yawn). I create and distribute vision and synergy for a few moments in a new project’s time line, after which the passion starts limping like a dead donkey’s dick. But creation never stops ( I’m not sure whether to put a positive or negative flag to the tone from this part on – i'll settle on neutral … like the Swiss). I love making (that I’d later break), breaking (that I’d later break more), shaking (that I’d break after), taking (that I’d break and return), baking (that I’d break and supply), trekking (hmm… nothing to break here), mocking (still nothing), soaking (still nothing), and Burger King(I’m nice to them since the one time I was there, I managed to find the perfect burger). I think of these infinitely amusing ideas (dunce to the non-revolutionaries and grandiose to the radicals) and chart a plan to give them life. That’s the one moment of radicalism. Give me enough time and that wise saying that talks about the dead donkey’s dick comes to relevance again. And now, I’m yawning like a walrus.
Let me check if I have processed anything that sounds positive about this. Checking… checking… checking… lets cut for a cup of tea. Hold on. I’ll be back...I promise you by the time I am back, I'll have the positives written out...In fact, why don’t you go get some coffee yourself and come back to read (If I were you, I's suggest moving to the next blog … or infinitely more righteous, watch some porn).
One nice cup of English tea and a phone call later, I am still clueless (i'll make such a horrible dad isn't it). Why must I even try? Maybe something’s are always meant to make a bend towards negativeness… like murdering hot women or staying a virgin or voting for Bush.. there can’t possibly be anything good about them. So I’ll move on (that again proves this whole exercise … I was excited to find anything cocksure about the goodness of low attention spans but I’m seduced to move to something else now......probably comment something nasty on someone else’s blog ).
So here it is then, the Declaration of Attendi-pedence : I hereby declare that there has been irrefutable evidence that suggests thats Low Attention Spans cannot yield a bounty of boners (except if circumstances necessitate a last-minute change in plans )
Ending emotion : This is has been a waste of my time.
In the next class, we’ll talk about AIDS (as promised earlier… so women, start growing your nails).
Class Dismissed!
