This is the fourth attempt to write something today. I’ve gone through several topics and erased them all. There was the Media Blackout one where I was describing my movie watching last night in order to avoid all the continuous Bin Laden coverage. Then there was my weird love letter to Bill Murray about how cool I think he is and how awesome it must be to be him. Which then led me to write about the value of the self and how we shouldn’t be envious of others and be satisfied with what we have. But that sounded too preachy so I erased that.
So now I’m on the fourth draft of something without any substance. This will be my 121st piece of writing and I hope I’m not starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel. All that seems to be down there is monkey poop. I am of course referencing a “Barrel of Monkeys” toy. Not that I keep actual monkeys in a barrel in some dark warehouse. Barrel monkey warehouse; another band name?
Whenever I used to get stuck writing something I would always hear the phrase “peanut butter and jelly”, in my head. It seems to repeat in my mind and I can’t get past it. It stifles me for some reason. Maybe it’s the whole idea of the peanut butter getting stuck on the roof of your mouth and then not being able to talk. I think I may have written about the subject before. It’s no fun to sit here and struggle to string a few words together into a cohesive thought which clearly conveys each distinct emotion or moment.
But yet, I persist. Be warned however, watch out for the monkey poop.
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