where was I?

I’ve been having difficulty thinking of things to write about lately. Actually, I can think of things, but they’re all kind of depressing. I start formulating my thoughts, then get gloomy and quit.
For example, the presidential election. I ought to have something to say about that–everybody else on the planet does. But thinking about it provokes an automatic gag response, and trying to write about it brings on migraines. Actually, there seems to be some sort of spell over everyone; the moment anyone tries to talk about our esteemed candidates, all that comes out is incoherent ravings. Like so:
“Bush’s latest campaign advertisement promises—acchh–gargh–that– (bleeping)–manipulative, lying—bblllrrgghh –just hate him–so much —aarrr–the yawning void–the stinking chasm–”
“Kerry claims to be a war hero. But, in this book, a group of—bllrrgg—eechch– creepy, lying–big pansy–rrrggh–the original, the eternal, the undying–”
So I’ve tried to lay off the political commentators recently. If I wanted to hear crazed ramblings I’d start listening when I talk to myself.

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