Drunk as an effin' skunk.

Cafe Society
1

… okay so drunkeness is scarcely a café attribute (go back to your lattes, mochaccinos and other words too fancy for the simple word “coffee”!)

I am so tipsy I can barely spell (woohoo that I cannot edit this when done~!)

It is true that you drink to forget.

How do you inspire yourself? Tell me.
Is there no way to retain one’s happy moods of coherence?
I am only drinking tonight, becuse the knowledge that it will soon pass (from experience) hurts so.
Otherwise I very rarely drink.

For me, I am a newbie relatively, and I’m quite frankly dumb enough to think that rambling has value on a forum to which I am relatively new. At least I have it here in the cafe, rather than the general, unlike my first thread attempt, shot down as if this flaming marshmellow were a Balrog - I.M. very drunken O.

Today, it is about mental states. I found myself in a rare state of coherence, which I am seeking to drown, because to have coherence at the whim of one’s moods, is painful in the extreme.

WHY oh WHY sweeeeet lord can I not retain my fiery moods of creative-ness when they come upon me at inscrutable times?
Why can I not write coherently when I want to?
I love this forum precisely for my inability to edit afterwards.
(I would only add more spelling mistakes, even if I could edit.)

Y’all must have had it, confess - where you liked the mood you were in, so much, that you wished it would never change.

Aye well, and if this sinks without a trace, have a Happy New one none the less.
And people who write rude comments in reply, for the sake of brevity and wit, in the words of Eric Cartman, “Scwew yew~!”
That is the only good thing of having one’s good sense suspended - the lack of being self censored.
What a bloody shame I can’t be as brave when I’m sober.

2

Your thread will be allowed to remain, even though it hangs perilously by its fingernails, as I am reminded of the hysterically amusing Chris Miller short story “Pipe Dream” (first published in the June, 1972, issue of National Lampoon (vol. I, no. 27), which dealt with a strange extraterrestrial dope that appeared in NYC’s East Village; once smoked, it hyper-accelerated the creative powers of the user, leading to a contemporary Renaissance.

3

Thankyou Ukelele :slight_smile:
It is a rarity for me to be this way - once, twice a year at most, and I am fortunate in that.
(would you believe that I was recently nominated to be a moderator myself, on a “serious” forum on account of my sensibility? :))

I am truly sad that I should be like this, just from the simple frustration of my inability to be as coherent (read- “speak my mind”) as I’d like to be, whenever I choose.
(hence, my rare act of insobriety :wink: )

I am not a stupid person - I hope - yet I sure can act like one most of the time, in attempting, (for the sake of keeping the peace in my “real world”), as a very neutral emotionless soul.
I’m not sure that it’s worth it, right now.
Such moments make me feel like a tiny tiny fish in a very big pool of a universe.

Thankyou for your tolerance.

4

Chris Miller! Yeah!!

I dare you to read… uh… Another Chris Miller story, the title of which escapes me, in which the protagonist, one Bernie “Boom-boom” Something-or-other, gets his wee-wee stuck in a vacuum cleaner hose while masturbating, and has to figure out how to get to the disco on time.

Twisted man.

Hell, I feel drunk now. I should sleep.

5

Ike, was that the bit with the giant sculpture in the middle of the park, that turned out to be a spaceship/doorway to another dimension, where the wonder weed was coming from?

[sub]Or have I been partaking myself?[/sub]

Tblue: If I’m reading you aright, I may have a potential solution. Carry with you at all times a small notebook and a pen. The inspiration can strike (as you seem to be well aware) at the most unlikely moments. For this reason, carrying a small pocket recorder is also not an unwise practice to cultivate.
(Y’know, it being rather difficult to jot down notes whilst driving at high speed in heavy traffic. With the recorder it’s a push of one button.)

Write everything that enters your head, and seems to you to have some worth. Hell, even if it doesn’t, write it down anyway. Sometimes you’ll go back through your notebook and find something you barely remember writing, and realize that it’s either pretty damn good after all, or would be with a little polishing.

The trick isn’t to “write coherently when I want to?” but to write coherently whenever you can. Eventually, after some practice at this, you may find it easier to recall or reattain that creative state of mind, when you’ve got more time or inclination to write.

A theoretical example:
You’re grocery shopping, and the subliminal commercials hidden in the store’s Muzak (just go with me here for a minute) trips some creative circuit in your brain. Doesn’t matter the details, you’re in the middle of a “hot run” in your head. Go for that notebook, and ignore the curious stares of your fellow shoppers. Write stream of consciouness, don’t bother much with spelling or punctuation if it’s slowing you down, just get the ideas on paper.

(Of course, if the “normals” are disturbing you, abandon your unpurchased foodstuffs, and leg it for the parking lot, posthaste. Strike while the iron’s hot, so to speak, and go back to the hunting and gathering when you’re done writing.)

You may well find, upon re-reading the material (and for the luvva Pete, don’t skim over it, read it as if you never saw it before) that you can recapture the mood of the moment, now that you’re at home, and can devote your attention to the piece at hand, without setting off any silent alarms for the guys with the butterfly nets.

Two things, though.

  1. Ink. Make sure the bloody pen isn’t gonna give out half a page into a creative frenzy. Sticking yourself and writing with your own blood in a public place is not conducive to your being undisturbed at a later time, to polish up that wonderful bit of prose.
  2. Batteries. If you go the pocket recorder route, carry blank tapes and fresh batteries for the thing. I once dictated half an hour of stunningly inspiring material* into a dead tape recorder, and upon realizing I’d got not one single word on tape, I wasted another half hour or forty minutes of Pitworthy ranting on the stupid thing. I could recall the best bits of neither, by the time I got home.**

[sub]* It was something or other about a flatline ribbon of asphalt… but the good bits vanished from my head, leaving me only the cliched opening.

** Something to do with a blistering condemnation of three generations of the families of the workers who produced the batteries, recorder, tape and wandered into territory bordering on homicidal assaults involving magnetic tape and the iron in thier bodies… but again, the funny parts that I could have recycled for a decent pit rant, if nothing else, still elude my memory.[/sub]

6

P.S. - just did a search for that Chis Miller story, in the hopes that it might be contained in the labyrinth of the net - no joy tonight though.
:slight_smile: I was curious to know what it read like.

If you do feel you should delete this thread for whatever reason, by the way, I don’t mind now. :slight_smile:
Sometimes even the most repressed folks (i.e. me!) have to cut loose a little. My training wheels are still affixed for stability, although I think I can wheel this particular tricycle of a post mercifully to bed.
(I’m now just a bit sleepy as opposed to legless, and prefer to stop while I’ve a head.)

It’s awful to waste a good session of franticallly firing neurons, but I’m now seeing the funny side. :slight_smile:

If you’re okay with leaving the thread running for those in the world who are more neuronically enlightened, to respond (like, about how they manage to be “themselves” 24/7, and actively inspired - without harshness to others!), to respond, that would be cool.
Exquisite goodnights to all.
:slight_smile:

7

Larry, I will.

Skeezix, thanks :slight_smile:
I normally carry some form of book and pen - my sketchbooks are more filled with writing than sketches though!
You’ve reminded me to pay more attention to them, as they’ve been lonely of late. And the dictaphone is a seriously good idea.
Here’s to good attitudes that last, hey? :slight_smile:

8

Go have some black coffee, will you?

[sub]Christ, I’m regrettin’ this already.[/sub]

9

Don’t regret it.
I’m going to get me some good ol’ fashioned sleep now.
I promise!
:slight_smile: It was worth it, for the reminder about always carrying a sketch/notebook.

10

I’ll be curious to see what he’s got when the hangover wears off.

“And yea, in the darkest hours of the night, across my sweaty fevered brow did wander a thought of grand magnitude and wondrous insight. And I did record this thought for the enlightenment of future generations, and, my duty done, I surrendered to Morpheus’ flow, down the river of slumber and forgetfullness. And in the morning, I did indeed recall this mighty thought not, though memory of its passing did linger in my brain. And I did track down my foolscap, upon which the wisdom of the ages had been transcribed, and when I did rescue it from a puddle of brackish liquid on the kitchen floor, I did read and marvel upon my insight…”

[sub]“My feet itch. I think I need to wash these socks more often. Wonder if there’s any pretzels left?”[/sub]

11

Sorry to disappoint you Tblue, but you seem to spell better than the vast majority of our sober dopers.

12

Jehovah68, I was being vewy vewy careful - I may have felt incoherent, but my inner spellcheck is impervious it seems…
And when I talk in that state, I speak “carefully” (in a well pronounced English manner) too, it seems :wink:

Skeezix, I am back in the land of the living, and nary a hangover to show for it, although during the night I had a scary moment where I thought my stomach was going to make a burst for freedom - imminent riot was quelled with chips and milk. Don’t know how that worked, but hey!

Might I quote your post about notebooks in its entirety on another forum? (Some of my friends are writers/aspiring writers) and I found what you said, to be so true.

My fire and brimstone mode has subsided, leaving me near the edge of self editing rigormortis once more. (although I seem to be holding it at bay thus far!)
I will say a quick thankyou again, and post this before I think it is too much garbage on my behalf!

13

Feel free. If you don’t mind (and assuming it’s not a private orginization), actually, shoot me the URL or mailing list address, or whatever it is. I’ve been meaning to kickstart my own writing for a while now, and, aside from trying to keep up with Dopers in general, I haven’t written bupkiss for myself in a spell, now.

[sub]Suppose I could get off my butt and submit something to Teemings, too. I just don’t see much of what I’ve got here as worthwhile, though./[sub]

14

Does anyone remember… this is all I have. I don’t know where I read it. Short piece, took place on Fire Island, during the Great Dope Shortage of… er. 70s or 80s. May have been either fiction or nonfiction.

15

Skeezix, funnily enough it’s not a writing forum, but a “pub” area on a sword forum! (Sword Forum International)
Having said that though, I think it might be good to post it on the writing forum that I do drop in at - sffworld.com
They’re pretty good folks there.

16

But the rist of the time, you speak pure NewZild!

Just kiddin’ mate. Welcome to the SDMB, fellow Downunderer. :slight_smile:

17

Maaaate!
Does that mean we have to talk Rugby and Creekit though?
sigh
Just when I thought I’d escaped… :wink:

(- oima Fellessa Downunderer … :wink: )