forced entry

im having trouble finding things to post about, even though there are a million things that are on my mind. when i think about it, i should have no problem just banging out whatever is in my head at any given time, seeing as thats basically what i do anyway. but recently the publish button seems out of reach. everything seems trifling and insignificant.

ive started a few different post, but they dont go anywhere. whats wierd is that im not usually determined to actually "say" something on this site, and have tended to post whatever the fuck at any given time. i mean, i clearly state in the sub header that "i cant find my argument," yet recently, the empty prose im accustomed to has been unsatisfying and sometimes, downright bad. take this recent saved draft:

he doesnt remember the 70's much. just flashes of discovery. he remembers living with his grandmother in new jersey and seeing fireflys for the first time one humid, summer evening. then he remembers leaving there. he remembers living with his mother in a san francisco apartment and dancing to rick james on a bright, pacific afternoon. he remembers going to the corner store and buying her cigarettes and that they only cost $0.85.* he remembers falling asleep while she watched saturday night live on a tiny black and white tv.

the 80's are much clearer. from there its easier to measure the distance between here and now. it was breakdancing and foster homes. michael jackson and graffiti. tagging on walls and snatching purses. getting in fights and getting beat up. it was tardy passes and having crushes. feeling hungry and finding food. living on hip hop and not even knowing it. finding the sex in r&b. these were years in thrift store clothes before thrift store clothes were cool. the years most taken for granted. he remembers these years, but he doesnt think of them much.

*this was the 70's. i wasnt even five and i could buy cigarettes for my mother.

see, where was that even going? well, logically it seems to be heading towards the present and maybe even the future [though ive covered that ground already], but for what? i think the only reason i saved it was because i liked the fact it had a footnote. other than that it is a meaningless series of syllables, a simple exercise in meter. a waste of my time and yours.

its not funny or inspired. its not incredibly insightful or profound, nor is it very trashy and shallow. its more just a forced entry, an eventually forgotten post. a dead link on a website that no one has noticed yet.

i guess im just trying to appear "not boring" when actually sometimes i am. whatevs. im boring at times. so fucking sue me.

oh yeah, i forget what that poem in the image above says. if anyone can read french, please email or post a comment of the translation.