I'd like to say I woke up on fire, burning to write. Rather I grabbed my mug and fired up the PC and got to a stream of tweets on my Twitter channel that had me stewing in depression immediately so I unfollowed the guy. I'm sure he's very bright and all, and I'm sure I should be educated about the terrible things going down in our economy right now, but it was more than I could stomach before a full cup of joe, man.
I know that it's shitty out there - banks crashing, fires burning, wars being waged, and I care, I care a lot*.
However there is only so much I can take before I start to spiral down into grey areas. In my psyche there is just no room for monochrome emotions, and I try to avoid the black pits just as often as I can manage. In fact my favorite flavor of therapy is denial. In fact that's probably why I love my escapist entertainments. I'm an artist, man, I need beauty.
So in a quest for beauty I think I'll trip over to my favorite collaborative fiction site and and write about zombies ripping people up. Oh yeah… biker zombies!
(Speaking of music, who the hell stole my CD of the soundtrack from Grosse Point Blank? Give it back)