Friday, April 29, 2011

Mustachioed Etching

I had to pee at 3am. As I got up I was convinced I had the best new idea for a short story now trickling in my head. This morning as I brushed my teeth I racked my brain for what that gem was and could not for the life of me conjure it up. I cursed myself for not jotting it down in the middle of the night. I've got to get in the habit of doing that. But, oh well, if it truly is a good idea, it will come back to me. But, what if it takes some 30 odd years to peak back up through the muddle of my subconscious into a spec of clarity? Drats. Should have just written the fucker down.
Sometimes I get stuck on thought rhythms where I explain myself to myself. This may or may not be a form of OCD. I'm not sure. I do have "checkers." I double check a few times at the end of the day whether or not the door is properly locked and the stove is off.

Throughout the workday I find myself doodling on index cards while on the phone. Lately it begins with a sudden burst of a wavy line. My instincts pull me to vigorously fill in and shade the area within the wiggles. It looks like a thick mustache. A face forms around it. Soon I feel the sudden urge to doodle more wiggles. Which becomes another mustachioed face. The subconscious manifestation of how I looked in a previous life? My future mustachioed self? At least the important ideas make their way onto paper. It looks like this (there are many
more almost identical sitting in drawers like important leads) ->

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