Am smelling hamburgers now. But the whirligigs of time allow me no more than a bulgogi's serving of beef, which might come to a third of a burger, and no fries at all. Sic transit etc. Am a little sad about that. The By the Way burger was what I ate the evening of Sept 11, as a means of asserting to myself that fundamental things in my universe were still the same. However. What we left them, trains inherit/ Trains go on and we grow old.
31_days' August prompts are about Wanderlust. I should be able to write something about those, given that my putative main fandom is four guys in a jeep and my most recent one is a mushishi who keeps moving around.
Just, I feel distanced from my fandoms these days, and from writing in general. I no longer tell myself stories at night going to sleep, and in the morning when I wake up I'm awake and up, which has never happened before. I'd blame hormones and the lack of them, except I used to tell me stories in childhood long before the hormones kicked in. (Of course the hormones were an incredible incentive to tell myself more, and more detailed, stories about Somewhere Where It Was Better.) So I get up and study kanji; and think that if I'd been like this all my life maybe I'd have accomplished more. Without that seductive dream world and its fascinating puppets, one might as well work, because what else is there to do? I never understood before how people managed Ph.ds and careers; and now I see it's because they don't have stories to tell themselves.
(Lj tags are still screwed. Click on the drop-down and it erases the tag you've selected before. Assumption being you only want one tag per entry.)