Imagination

My brain has been firing crazy sparks lately, thought tendrils that take off into these intricate little spirals of weirdness. I love it. I love that sense of organic growth, as my mind feeds on bits of new ideas, processes them, and regurgitates them out into a fertile soil that feeds my imagination. Happy brain is a weird brain. I keep forgetting that, getting caught up in the fascinating but ultimately shallow physical realities of day to day life.

For instance, I've come up with a plot to a series of 3 romance novels. Ridiculous, searing indictments of how romance novels fuck with the brains of women everywhere, convincing them that lust is only ok with your one true love, that men are weak, that women are weak, that sex is only good with one man, that marriage is the be all end all, that unreasoning authority is hot (I know this makes me a hypocrite, cause I kinda like being told what to do in bed...), that love changes everything... lots of bullshit, and I could totally write these in such a way to highlight the bullshit and still be an awesome story. Now, I'm most likely too lazy to actually do it, but I could :D.

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