I have all these little comments that I want to spawn that slink away the moment my fingers hit the keys. I wonder if I kept a notebook, would they flee as fast? I'm roped, increasingly, to this machine that's half portable and often unwieldy. Can't resist its lure or its clicky-clacky link to the outside world. Machines provoke them though, these random impulses, they're floating up from my surface thoughts when i'm in the car, that two ton machine that somehow inspires me. Or they trickle in through the ear buds of the ipod, sneaking around their musical accompaniment.
Tomorrow? The weekend? at some time in the near distant future, after papers due and presentations given, i'm going to attempt to write fic in this weird and uncomfortable slightly tilted voice and see what comes.
