Whaddaya hear, whaddaya say...and why so noivous?

I'm not well. To my menagerie of ailments, I've recently added some new symptoms. For a week now, my hands won't stop shaking, and when I lift them up, and lay 'em out flat, they look like I'm playing an invisible piano.

-- I would say 'typing', but it's a very rhythmic course of energy, like ocean waves.

Also, the other night, while worrying about something, I noticed a funny feeling in my wrists -- worse than the one caused by the shaking -- and looked down to discover my fingers had actually turned blue.

The worst new symptom, though, is best described by asking, Have you ever grabbed hold of an electric fence?

When I was a kid, my parents had a garden, and to keep the deer out, my father ran a wire around the entire length of the garden, and hooked the wire up to a generator, or maybe a tractor battery. -- I'm sure whatever he could find!

Too short to simply step over the wire, if we wanted to go into the garden, we had to lift up the wire, and crawl underneath it.

Well, if my father was already out in the garden, working, the wire was usually turned off, but I'd shout to him, anyway, "Daddy, is the fence on?"

Sometimes he'd forget, or sometime he wasn't there, and I'd risk it. Grab hold of the wire, and 'feel' if it was on!

I got shocked several times. That awful sensation; electricity burning through your whole body, and you can't let go of the wire!

That's how I've felt lately...like I'm holding onto a weak electric fence, and I can't let go. Currents constantly pulsing through me.

Several days of this, and now I'm starting to 'tick' and move like James Cagney, in ANGELS WITH DIRTY FACES. Ol' Two Gun Rocky Sullavan, and his shot nerves! You know how Cagney kept shrugging his shoulders, moving his head, his jaw? Rocky was nervous! Haunted. By nerves suppressed so long, they've shattered; plus 'lost youth', and 'swallowed guilt'...

God, Cagney was brilliant!

I love near the end of the movie, when Father Jerry asks Rocky if he's afraid, and Rocky says:

"I think in order to be afraid, you gotta have a heart. I don't think I've got one. I had that cut out of me a long time ago."

He's right. To feel no more pain, you cut out your OWN heart, with the same bar of soap Peter Pan tried to use to re-attach his shadow. Now stash the soap where the heart used to be, so your chest doesn't cave in, and you're all set for the death-chair!

Unafraid...

'Course nervous ticks may result.

Tonight, I keep leaning forward, just an inch, then another inch, and then I lean back.

Lean forward, lean forward...lean back.

Then when I realize what I'm doing, I started shaking all over...so I'm learning to ignore it.

--- I've learned to ignore lots of things!

"Carved-out my heart, a long time ago..."

It's just when new symptoms -- and possibly new ailments completely! -- emerge, it's hard not to ignore 'em; it takes time to get used to...and makes me feel feverish, and queasy. I'm seasick! All this leaning and shaking in my desk chair.

I tried going to bed, but I couldn't sleep.

I bet if you stuck a lightbulb in my mouth right now, I'd light up the entire night! A new aurora borealis.

[Children pointing towards the sky] "Look Mom! It's Ginger Ingenue's Nervous Breakdown!"

What pretty colors.

...

Because of all this nuttiness, I missed the last night of my blogathon.

I was so disappointed.

I actually wrote a big piece Sunday afternoon (the last day of February) and planned on posting it that night.

Then right after Midnight (March 1st) I was gonna post a 'Well, that concludes my blogathon' post...and all I 'learned' from it, and how much fun I had, etc.

Anyway, I think I cried myself to sleep that night. Woke up feverish, jittery, etc. around one AM Monday morning, looked at the clock and felt heartbroken. I had tried so hard to post every day/night for one whole month, and failed. :(

Stayed away, I think to sort of punish myself.

Of course the main reason for my absence is obvious: I've been in a lot of pain, and didn't want to talk about it. Been 'sleeping it off' (not in the drunken/hungover way; but in the depressed way), and been watching lots of movies to feel somewhat 'comatose'.

And so many neat things have happened lately! Movie-wise...that piece I wrote on Sunday and didn't post, a funny story, TCM goodness.

-- Almost makes me want to declare another month of blogathoning! But I don't think I should...

Better rest. And take care of myself.

Not that I WON'T blog all all. It's a nice way to relax, and have fun. And writing always helps (huge understatement).

...

Like the new header? :)

-- It's not up just yet, but it will be, soon.

I figured it was high-time I gave this blog a proper description...warn people what they're in for!

And 'Creative Writing' sounded like a pretty good catch-all.

Besides, what else could I put?

'Morbid, Rambling Nonsense written by someone destined for a white padded cell'?

Well, I tried that, but it just wouldn't fit. ;)

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While editing, I looked up the definition of 'Creative Writing' over at Wikipedia. States some guys named Paul Witty and Lou LaBrant define Creative Writing, as:

1) The need for keeping records of significant experience.

-- Like watching movies??

2) The need for sharing experience with an interested group.

-- My blog readers! :)

And 3) The need for free individual expression which contributes to mental and physical health.

Ah-ha!!

And you thought I was nuts. ;)

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