Rambling, gambling man

I'm in the mood for writing nonsense (cue depreciating humour) tonight. The need to ramble on and on, probably the result of a desperate need to connect. I just want to do everything. I want to talk to anyone...I want to be alone. I want to be with a special someone and bask in the glory of love and affection - it's not too much to desire, is it? Maybe it is. I feel like dancing, but I can't dance...like that's ever stopped me before...well, yes, it has, but that's when I'm on the outside. Inside? I sway and do jerky movements that, if you squint one eye a little and close the other eye, look like awesome dance moves. Yeah, I'm hip like that!

Music! Lately I've been craving it more than usual. I had a moment today... one of those moments of inexplicable joy, where the I don't know hits you with a force that's all its own. It's that subtle something in music. I call it my mental orgasm...this one was one of the most powerful feelings of it, though. I like music, and music likes me. Hand in hand together, it leads me and I feed it. When I die, music will still be here, but, hopefully, it will sing me a sweet lullaby. I heart music and music hearts me.

What am I typing? I don't know man; it's the same ol' goodnews. The gospel, man! "Don't sweat the small stuff." Was that a King character? Only the final part.

I thought of an aphorism the other day, but I've forgotten how it goes. I've fallen for aphorisms, especially the vague ones that may be deep, but there's no real telling whether it is, or whether it ain't. Think Nietzsche, think Heraclitus. Yes, I can spell Nietzsche off the top of my head - you don't have to be German to not bastardise his name; ain't I great? Send a cookie. I have a hate-love relationship with the man - then again, would he have it any other way? Strangely though, I don't mind the three German H's: that would be Habermas, Hegel and Husserl. That could just be because I don't know any of them that well.

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