I just watched a movie that activated my brain on many levels. The problem with this is that I want to do something with it. I do not know what. And so, I begin my internal monologues. The worst part of it- well it’s not the worst part, I’ll tell you the worst part later- is that I am always in my car, alone, not even with a little recorder, or a parrot with perfect recall. My thoughts come rapidly and flow seamlessly into one another, covering topics in rapid succession. And from time to time I step outside, part of me does, and I am somewhat interested by what I hear. Isn’t that a good sign? I suppose I’d be pretty bummed if I bored myself.
And so we are back to me now, hypermental and searching for an outlet. Since I have no recorder, I’ll try to remember my thoughts and write them down when I get home. And I get home. I am home now. My significant other saw the movie with me and is also motivated by some great force of media. He asks me, “Do you want to play City of Heroes?” The first thing that comes to my mind is that playing a video game would be the biggest waste of creative energy that I can conceive. “No I don’t.” “What do you want to do?” I have no idea. I am without focus, only energy. I am a force without distance, so work does not result. And so I say, “I don’t know.” He gives me that look of how-can-you-not-want-to-do-something. “Tell me if you want to do something.” I say, “I’m hyper. I think I’m going to type.” And he gives me that look of I-don’t-get-you-at-all-why-do-I-bother. I feel put out and my energy wanes. And then it becomes a gender issue… again. “I don’t get women. When a guy is hyper, he wants to do something. When a woman is hyper, she just wants to talk about it. If you’re hyper, we should do something. It’s like if you’re inspired, you should write.” And I say, “But that’s what I’m going to do.” He gets quite exasperated and I wonder what cryptic thing I’ve done now that is causing him distress.
And so- I like starting phrases with that- my bullet train of thought came to a stop and is under construction while I dwell on my behavior and his response. But can’t you see? If I were inspired to write, it would ok. But since I’m just typing my thoughts, I’m elusive. And so I ask, “What do you want to do?” I have to at least show him that ambiguity is not solely my problem. “I don’t know. Fight crime, I suppose.” “Exactly,” I say.
And so I am typing, ever so much like an indecisive and unproductive member of the incomprehensible female persuasion, and he is combating digital monsters. I am not trying to be angry. Instead, I am using my cranial verbosity as a channel. I no longer remember most of what I wanted to write here while driving home from the cinema, but at least I won’t be pissed off when I’m done.
Batman Begins is a good movie. Just make sure you have lots of activities planned for afterwards or you might get into a fight with your date because there aren’t any bad guys around on whom to take it out. I’d suggest we duke it out, but he’s had a lot more martial arts training than me. And I don’t think we’d mean it.