Sunday, May 14

Aviso: This is a work of fiction

...which just happens to be mostly true. I feel the need to say this from time to time in my life because otherwise some people seem to think I mean everything I say, I really have done everything I've written about, or I'm speaking from experience in every poem I compose. (What's it about?)

I'm pretty much a hermit who just writes what comes into my brainspace, and most of the time it's fairly pleasant up there so there's not too much to write about. From time to time however dark clouds gather or some horrifying thought or another creeps in, and then I have to run to the keyboard and punch it in so I can get it out. This behavior tends to keep me on the nicer side of that fine line.

But like with any art form, there is a mixture of sincerity, sarcasm, intentional misdirection, metalanguage, knowing winks, simple irony, and deliberate obfuscation. I like to play with words and sounds and the way things look look on the screen. I also like to scare children.

In other words, it would be a mistake to think this was a journal of my life as such. I could update it at a certain time each day and tell you where I ate lunch, compose a searching review of the movie I saw afterward, and muse about my relationships. But that's not what this is about. The art is itself part of the art, if you will.

Ok, I'm done talking.

2 comments:

Sphinx said...

Nice blog you have here.

Metamatician said...

Thank you, Sphinx. I like your taste in books and philosophies. Seems like we see things a bit similarly. Thanks for stopping by and I'm going to add your blog to my 'rounds'. Always nice to meet a fellow existentialist.

Well...sort of :-S

Archived Posts

Search The Meta-Plane