Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
anada454
, ____, ( 21/10/01 anada454 ,
/ \ ,_____ (--|_\_,,_, _ _| _ __________ ,-.______ _,---._ __ _/ \
/ \+------ _| ) | |(_|(_|(_|_ .net------/ )----.-' `./-/ \
/ / ( |__, ( ( ,' `/ /|
\ / \ `-" \'\ / |
\ / "Yet Another Late Night Textfile" `. , \ \ / |
Y-------- ----------/`. ,'-`----Y |
/ by The Corpse ( ; mEoW!@/| '
i________________________________________________| ,-. ,-'_______/ | /
| | | ( * | /
|____________________ Anada is cat-friendly! __) |__\ `.___________|/
`--' `--'
It seems that since I graduated from college, all the textfiles I've
written have been produced fairly late. Late, in this case, is around 2 AM,
which used to be early; now that I've got a regular job and fewer co-
conspirators to indulge my craving for intellectual conversation, though,
2 AM seems a bit late. Nevertheless, here I am, typing away and ruminating
on exactly why I write textfiles.
Bypassing some of the core reasons for my attraction to the .txt
format, I'll immediately address what I believe is the reason I write
textfiles. It's a two-faceted motivation, you might say. One one side of
the coin, I write textfiles because I need to write, and textfiles give me a
break from the novel I'm working on. Yes, I'm writing a novel, as
pretentious as it may sound, and yes, it can get tiresome. Textfiles let me
write about different things.
On the other hand, I write textfiles because they are amazingly
cathartic. There it is again- the stench of pretentiousness, real or
imagined. But I don't care, because I need to get some of this shit out, no
matter how absurd it is. My life, if one looks at the colossal engine of
the cosmos, is a single tooth in a tiny wheel, but on the microcosmic level,
it's pretty damned important. I have things to say and I want to say them.
If I don't, my brain and soul will atrophy and twist in on themselves,
turning me into the equivalent of a blind subterranean beast with
luminescent eyes, stunted optic nerves, and an unreasoned urge to grope
blindly in darkness. All right, so it might not be that bad, but hell, I
don't want to let my creative ichors remain bottled up.
Good God. This is what happens when my life seems to be closing in
on me. I ramble over the keyboard, saying hardly anything, smoking too many
cigarettes, dreaming about Antarctica, and generally making a wreck of
myself. I think that
THIS
is where
it all should end.
Good night, world. It's time for me to go to sleep after I listen to
one last Cathedral song:
"Astral
Queen."
Forgive my intrusion into your mindspace.
It truly ends
h e r e.
/\___/\ ____________________________________________________________ /\___/\
\ -.- / \ -.- /
`-.^.-' (c) 2001 Anada e'zine by The Corpse `-.^.-'
/"\ ________________________________________________________________ /"\
