What a Disaster I Am

Super heroes

The depressed make the best super heroes
Let's send the suicidal out to fight crime
What bad could happen; they die?
Best case scenario: they catch bad guys
And realize there's a reason
To put on their capes in the morning

They will remain humble
Dressed in their spandex color
Contrasting crazily with hidden emotions
Apathy wins the day

Blazing red, bright blue, garish green
Tights hug close to fat juggling thighs
Able to leap tall curbs with a single bound

Poem:
I thought of the first line while going about my normal day to day stuff, and the rest progressed from there. It turns out I do have much more success writing creatively in the morning, so that's good to know. While I do have some rather crazy ideas come into my head under sleep deprived conditions, waiting until the morning rather than forcing something late at night might be a good idea in general.

Observation:
I made a recent observation at work. It occurred in the likeliest of places for epiphanies: the bathroom. Specifically, the handicapped stall. (It's more spacious, and I'm like 99% sure there are no handicapped people in my building.) So I finish the task I went in there to do, and reach for the toilet paper. Now, I have grown accustomed to shoddy toilet paper. You know, the paper-thin stuff you have to reel off by the yard in order to fold over enough times to feel confident you won't wind up with a terrible situation on your hands (haha, joke). But much to my surprise, there were two types of toilet paper available. There was the normal, tracing paper-style stuff, and next to it, practically glowing in all its glory, was a roll of some variety of quilted toilet paper. It was luxurious. Which gave me a great idea. What if, instead of spending money on television advertisements, a major toilet paper company just went around to all the portable toilets, cheap office buildings, and schools and such, and put a roll of toilet paper next to the crappy stuff (the jokes are just writing themselves today). They could put a label over it or something to make people notice not only the superior option they have available, but also the brand which is so far above what they are used to. I know if I had known what kind was in the stall the other day, I at least would have remembered it. And let's be honest: who goes into a stall and doesn't look around for something to distract their attention? Talk about a captive audience! There's no way someone would leave without at least being aware of the product, and the whole point of a commercial is to make sure that the next time the consumer is at the store, a particular brand comes to mind. Mission accomplished.

Exercise:"The Squid, the Lampshade, and the Smell of Burning Tortillas"
Write something that incorporates a squid, a lampshade and the smell of burning tortillas.

The paper lampshades in the tapas bar were losing color. The afternoon sun had bleached them all from their vibrant red to a blushing of pink, and Carlos was sure it wouldn't be long until they joined the rest of the town in fading from attention. It was rare that anyone new showed up. The locals all knew things were on the decline. They extended their siestas into late afternoon, returning to work for an hour before calling it quitting time. And the few regulars to the tapas bar didn't notice when the things they never ordered began to disappear from the menu. If it hadn't been for Pedro, calamari wouldn't even be an option these days. Nobody else liked eating it, and the preparation was a pain. Not to mention the hassle of acquiring (semi) fresh squid. But Pedro was willing to pay for it, and still willing after the price went up with an explanation from Carlos of "supply and demand, brother. You're the only demand, and the supplying it sucks." It got so bad that one of his cooks returned from siesta, only to resume while at the stove. How a man could fall asleep in front of a gas range, Carlos couldn't figure out, but when the smell of burning tortillas meandered its way out the door, it was all to evident that the town was running out of spirit in general.

Me:
I am already starting to feel a bit like I'm in limbo, and school hasn't even ended yet. This doesn't bode well for the next year of my life. I hope I can set a schedule and keep to it, but I'm afraid it just isn't possible to schedule all the things I want to do. I keep telling myself I'll have time to do such and such once school gets out. I'll have time to pick up programming, I'll have time to build computers, I'll have time to ride my bike, time to play handball, time to write, time to submit to law publications, time to study for the LSAT, time to play some frisbee, time to submit fiction, nonfiction, and poetry, time to work a bit, and time for relaxing. Obviously these are not all compatible. The worst part is, to commit to any of these would be a nearly full-time thing. I guess I could probably do the LSAT, law publications, and handball all while working, but biking is supposed to be four hours a day, handball is usually two or three hours, it takes three hours to go from parts to a fully tested computer, and that's only a few of the things I have in mind. What a disaster.
I haven't been feeling very poetic recently. I'm sure it has shown in my poetry, so I'm sorry for that. I listened to Ben Percy give a reading in the library today, and it seems like every time I interact with that guy I am motivated to go out and write. And then as soon as I leave the motivation fades in light of all the other things I have to do. And now I am unable to find it again. He says his goal is to write two pages a day, or 14 a week. I know I could do that. I know I'm good enough at putting words together, bringing stories to life, and keeping things straight. I'm just not good enough at getting it done. I'm beginning to think that's all that separates writers from non-writers. It's not hard to come up with words. The hard part is doing it every day, and to have the passion to go back to it even when your cat dies, your legs hurt, you fail a test, you get rejected, or you realize one of your characters needs to be cut and a re-write is needed. And it's that I'm afraid I'll never acquire. I'm too flighty. Maybe that will change. Maybe I could change it right now if I really wanted to, but I'm too interested in everything. Or not interested enough in one thing. Either way, I'm backing myself into a corner where options start eliminating themselves because I'm too indecisive. Hence, the title of this post.