He's not sure where stories come from. Really. (Would be handy to know. Don't you think? Wouldn't somebody wanna know, just for convenience and crowds?)
But he gets nervous if he thinks anyone is reading them. "Audience." Of any number. Really, really fuckin nervous. Seriously nervous. Like paralytic. PARALYTIC. (Ya think I'm kidding??? I could tell what paralysis is like......I can describe it so well.....:o).) (Maybe THAT will be next.) Although he doesn't know why. Why he gets nervous. Doesn't want to go into it; either. Okay? Let's leave the poor bastard alone. For the time being. I think we've all had this worked out b4, and it works pretty well.
Maybe he hated people who read stuff he wrote. That he was required to write. Maybe he wanted them to fuck off and die. Casually.
Have noticed a couple of things, though:
~ Many "stories" seem to start with "that reminds me of the time" and "one time." Hee hee. Remarkable. Amazing, really. I hope that's as funny as it is to me.
It's ironic, or some literary term.
~ It's good not to leave town saying: you would finish something if you didn't have to leave town. No. Don't do that.
~ There's LOTS around here to look at; I agree with Bruce. He feels like I feel. Like maybe he's the only one to notice? No. Uh uh.
But you get the creepy-crawlies if you think about it. Why you're there. Then you start slinking away from the campfire til no one can see you, or just go away altogether. After all, to remain would require immense pretense, for some. That's how it seems. How it feels. That you wouldn't dare assess yourself in company. Duh. The whole concept is ridiculous.
Just get out.
~ Would I deny you guys anything? Just for effect? Oh sure. That'll make ya think, next time.
~ I have whole reams, encyclo-volumes, HMS Brittannica, warehouse storage floors, of stuff, not to put on here, to hold in escrow, til your twenty-first birthday, Mister.
~ heh heh. Oh heedles....
~ Who is a person going to talk to? That's the same as write to. Well, people they know, and "like." Not people they know and don't like; and most likely not to people they don't know. So they goof off wasting time telling peculiar things to people because they don't know what else to do with themselves for some period of time they happen to be near a keyboard. (THIS, is the actual basis in fact.) They get lured into it. Like tawdry, illicit, unexpected, unrefusable sex.
I imagine.
Or stimulated into it, by something else; some other story or idea.
Or maybe they are bored self-sycophants.
I think there must be a shorter way round for that concept, like narcisstic, or something.
And actually, all social behavior requires a Certain degree of it. Narcissism. Thinking ~ at all ~ does. It can be a very small portion, but that is a good description, of it. It does, imo, no good to deny this; (although shading is valid), because without it even the most effaced or extroverted "ceases." Ah. Cease. Blip. Bloop.
I remember one time.....
PS: I may be over-reacting, making a mountain, and I'm sure of it, but that's what ya get. This is it.
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