the metafictional blues

Sometimes I feel like my mind is racing at a pace that’s much faster than I can keep up with. Other times I just feel like an iPod set to shuffle after being loaded with a garage full of 8-track classics. Other times I feel like MC Hammer on crack. Sometimes I feel like a nut, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I just gotta throw in some jazz hands for theatrical effect. The point is, and oh how there is one, that on this random joyride of montage soundbites (the likes of which can only be rivaled by any number of VH1 flashback shows) I often find myself thinking “You know, I really ought to be blogging this”.

Of course instead of actually doing that, I’m going to just talk about thinking about doing it. Because that’s metafictional. And by metafictional I mean “total crazy talk” … so before I forget, here is just a sampling of things that I’ve considered blogging about over the last 24 hours (really, just ask Jamelah):

– chinese food
– Martha Stewart
– kids say the darndest things
– mispronunciations
– musical mysteries
– Brains!!!
– the reaper
– biblical names (part 2)
– the latest rehearsal of the lawdy lawdys
– billy idol
– not being Canadian
– pizza rolls
– the death of brevity
– why people, in the end, just need to shut up
– yet even more musical questions
– turning on your heartlight
– being the puppetmaster
– why sometimes you say things and it just comes out as singing along with Bonnie Raitt
– why i’m mad at diddy
– why i’m mad at mc hammer for showing up and doing “u can’t touch this” in full regalia at the recent MTV music awards
– why i really ought to have my own show
– hold me closer, tony danza
– this
– treatise on “Africa” by Toto
– misleading statements by Elton John
– many fine and catchy parodies of “Bennie and the Jets”
– how i’m thinking about changing my answering machine message to a little song known as the “Achy Breaky”

And more … so much more. And even yet more that I’ve probably forgotten from a few hours ago. Like Billy Bragg or how it’s a hard road, dead or alive. But that’s a lot. And so much pressure, to boot. How can I even be expected to tackle it all? I could try, of course. I could do my best, but what if my best isn’t good enough? Then where are we? Bitter, confused and left rambling around back alleyways in search of a few Big Mac boxes… and really, is that any way to live? No, it sure isn’t.

Until next time …