I'm thinking bigger, like freak show big

Author's Note: Recently an acquaintance of mine made fun of my complete disregard for capitalization, grammar and spelling, and while I'd usually be all, "fuck you, yo," I kind of dig said acquaintance, so for at least a baby bit I'll be trying that whole writing correctly thing.

The best way to describe my life post academia would be one of fragmentation. I've found it really hard, as of these last six or so months, to focus on anything really. I start and read the first 50 pages of book after book (but never more), watch movies at 32x speed (because who has more than 8 minutes to spare), and listen to bits and pieces of songs when once I could listen to full albums for hours on end (this one I'll blame on the increasing influence of my iPod on my music listening habits). One would think with class and homework no longer taking up 20-40 hours of my week, I'd find it easier to focus on these means of cultural betterment, but apparently that isn't how shit works.

It's kind of a drag, but it seems like it's just the further realization (I know there's a much better word, for what I'm thinking, but it's not coming to mind right now, so if anyone knows it please feel free to offer it up in the comments section) of a lifelong problem of mine. Increasingly, espcecially since the end of my teenage years, I've found myself with the constant feeling of having bits and pieces of what I need, but the inability to bring it all together. It's like I'm Adrien Beltre pre 2004 (the year he finished second behind Bonds in MVP voting), I have the tools but for some reason I can't turn myself into the complete package.

Now to what this has to do with me being unable to read books, watch movies, or listen to music (because while I realize this makes complete sense in my head it might not make sense to all three of you who may be reading). See the thing is I always envisioned that once school ended I would finally have time to do all the stuff that I'd so desperately needed more time for when I was still in school. I find myself with the materials, the time, and most importantly the will to consume, I just can't do it. I don't what it is, but I'm hoping to figure it out soon and finally finish The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman.

I don't know though, maybe I'll never figure it out. Or maybe I'm just being a bitch, and without something else to steal time away from to culturally consume, I'm bored by it. They say you always want what you can't have, and maybe that's what this is a case of. Or maybe I realize that my time could be spent better--you know like maybe producing some shit of my own. You know, like the kind of shit that will change the world and shit. Yeah maybe that's what it is.

***

I find I play basketball best when I think of Clipse's song "Trill." For some reason when I'm playing that song in my head, basketball just seems to make sense. It also allowed for me to hear Minxie's panting on the court tonight, as he was coming from behind for a steal. That's right Clipse saved my life tonight(or at least saved me the shame of having been neutralized on the break by that fucker).

Also, I talked to Archibald's dad last night. If you were wondering why you haven't seen anything from him up here lately, there's a reason. Apparently Betsy broke poor Archibald's heart just hours after his last post, and he fled the rehabilitation clinic. Neither we here at Bring Back the Hindenburg or Archibald's family have heard of him, but in the hopes that he or someone who knows where he is reads this, please let us know, so that we can stop him before he falls back into his old life in Chesapeake Bay. There few things that boy needs less that his mother. Well maybe reruns of The King of Queens but I think that goes for all of us, not just Archibald. That's right fuck you Kevin James. Fuck you.