the montauk project

i talk on the phone all day. its a job, and i've gotten used to it. there are still some things that i don't understand, and since i'm here i figure why not talk about them since i haven't posted anything worth anything in over a month.

in this age of communicatorial diarreah, where with each turn of a corner we are inundated with new ways to electronically piss in each others ears, we have finally come to the point where, yes, even the stupid people can use the higher end technology, and too often, much too often, they do. it's as if just because the phone is there and in their hands/pockets/purses/manbags they must find an excuse, any excuse to use it. i have felt that feeling, staring bored waiting for a bus to whisk me away to some new magical adventure, and suddenly my hand opens my phone and i look through the contacts, wondering who wants to hear the wonderful melodic lilt of my voice. i know the temptation. but i also don't give in.

the message here is quite simply, if you don't need to make the phone call don't do it. no one wants to talk to you. you are not special. your child is not special. nothing in your life is special. and no one cares.

that sort of was a lame rant wasn't it. not any of the OOMPH that i used to have. i'm trying to get that back. but i guess i have to practice. i haven't been mean enough lately. haven't hung out with Q enough lately, haven't done much of anything productive lately. sure i have something that makes me happy and delirious and crazy and i'm not talking about WOW. but i need to get my edge back. so i may throw up a few lousy posts, i may talk about things that nobody wants to hear about, but i don't care. this is about my damage too.