I'm thinking about writing something about
thinking about writing something. I'm thinking
about thinking, thinking about writing, thinking
about thinking and writing and how they relate.
I'm thinking a lot. Am I thinking? I don't know.
Sometimes I'm not even sure I'm breathing.
Sometimes, when I'm meditating, and I'm
following my breathing, I start thinking about
meditating, and then I start thinking about
my breathing, and my breathing gets
messed up, and then I'm no longer meditating
and following my breathing. I'm just thinking
about meditating. How did I even start thinking
about that? I was thinking about writing
something about thinking and writing, and,
suddenly, I'm thinking about something else.
Like now, when I suddenly start thinking
about Fats Waller, probably because I'm
listening to Fats Waller in the background
while I'm writing. (I've started writing now.
Am I still thinking about writing?) Fats is
singing "Honeysuckle Rose" in 1934, and
playing piano, and I'm thinking about Fats
singing and playing "Honeysuckle Rose,"
and I'm thinking that he probably wasn't thinking
much, if at all, about singing and playing while
he was singing and playing. And I'm thinking
about writing something about Fats Waller
singing and playing and how it relates to thinking
and writing and thinking about writing. But now
that I'm writing about Fats Waller and thinking
and writing, I wonder if I'm actually thinking
about writing while I'm writing about thinking,
or am I just writing? I seem to be thinking and
writing at the same time, or thinking about
writing a millisecond ahead of writing about
thinking, thinking about a word and then
writing the word, so that by the time I start
writing the word, I'm already thinking about
the next word and thinking about writing the
next word, and then writing the next word,
ad infinitum, until I stop thinking anymore
about writing about thinking about writing,
or thinking about anything, or maybe
thinking about something completely unrelated
to writing, at which point, I stop writing.
Come over here, little Honeysuckle Rose,
and let me show you who's your Sugar Daddy.
Monday, February 09, 2009
thought dream 020309.2
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5 comments:
You've got to stop reading my blog!
I hear ya! How did you know that I was thinking about thinking of stopping and not reading your blog which will keep me from thinking about thinking stuff like this.
You've done an awful lot of thinking here and for what "IT's" worth I like it!
You think it's good?
I've got to rethink it then :)
At least, according to Descartes' definition, you "am" :)
Hey Victor.
How did you know that I was thinking about thinking of stopping and not reading your blog which will keep me from thinking about thinking stuff like this.
I was thinking about saying something about you thinking about it, but I think I won't.
Crystal,
I is. Am I?
According to the mystical writings of that 4th century philosopher-poet, Popeye, "I am what I am."
I think you've invented a new form -- the free-form sestina.
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