Wait a second it's gonna take awhile

Sometimes I get here I think, just write the entry you want to write, except I don't really know what that means, or rather what it would look like, only what it would maybe feel like. This only happens when I haven't been writing so habitually here, which is somewhat rare in the 6 years I've possessed this online journal.

I sitting in the semi-dark listening to Mahler's Symphony No. 5 and reading about "the Alma Problem". I adore that it has its own separate wikipedia entry, it's not just a tab under the larger Mahler entry (which I initially read which linked me to The Alma Problem. Should I be so lucky to have such problems as people rewriting my complete letters and biography in an effort to advance my posthumous career. Except not really, it makes for good historical accounts after the fact but its less fun when its your actual life. Though, I guess he was dead when most of it happened. His legacy? I suppose his legacy and honor and all that intangible blah blah is ruined, for whatever that is worth to an individual. This doesn't trouble me so much, though it is sort of ridiculously arrogant to rename artistic pieces after yourself. Even the CD I have sitting here says something about "this is Mahler's declaration of love for Alma Schindler" and I cannot help but wonder if this is factoid.

I read Suskind's Perfume -- it took me only about 3 or 4 days, I suppose, though I can't remember exactly what day I picked it up, though I read the majority of it on Friday between the covers. It was good, it was a book I loved as a reader and thought was 'pretty good' as a writer. I found it reminiscent of Chaim Potok's My Name is Asher Lev in these roundabout ways, because plot-wise they couldn't really be further apart, and the main character of Perfume is an anti-hero, but they are both good at drawing you into their created worlds, and the majority of the world is filtered through one primary sense (as in, sight, smell) and both main characters are misunderstood childlike otherworldly characters.

I imagine now that the movie of Perfume blows. I haven't even read anything about it, but all of what's best about the novel could never be conveyed on the screen, whether it's the description and reaction of scents, or the huge town-sized orgy at the end.

Now I am reading essays by Charles Johnson and he's making me feel confident about going in and out of imaginary worlds, something I have trained myself to resist, to be a 'normal' person operating in the world, but that in order to do what I want, to make the creative parts happen, and to maybe also be happy and not so anxious all the time, as a by-product, I need to let myself slip away sometimes, more often, to not be afraid. It's strange, I constantly circle around creativity, but I rarely allow myself to go into it, only chipping away around the edges. I don't know, we'll see. I'll probably read this next week, or hell, tomorrow and not know what the hell I'm talking about. I blame the cranberry-blueberry juice I'm drinking, as I don't think blueberries make for good juice drinks. They are too fragrant and meaty and should remain more solid.

I want someone (who has something to say about it) to talk to me about "Naima's Love Song." I can't stop listening to it.