Yes, it is true, I am stuck in a funk. I don't know how I fell into this funk. I am not even sure that I could describe the funk for you. If the police asked for a description I would tell them that it was a hazy shade of winter because I haven't the foggiest idea how else to put it.
This happens to Old Jack sometimes, I get taken by these funks the way aliens take farmers out of Cleveland. Sometimes they last a spell and sometimes they last less than a spell. Don't ask me how long a spell is because I can't tell you with any certainty, any more than I can describe said funk.
And if I tell you that something smells funky don't ask what it smells like because I am not sure how to describe that. It is kind of a burnt Hampshireish road type thing.
All I have to say now is bleah.
"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." — Groucho Marx
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4 comments:
When I get in that mood from time to time, I listen to Tom Waits, not that it cures it, but feeds it and takes it to its naturally conclusion. It is kind of like a cold, but it is also necessary for creative people. Enjoy it without making your loved one too miserable
I know the feeling, and I don't know how to get rid of it when I have it.
Good luck Jack!
I just need to work through it, that seems to be the one solution that works for me.
Take heart from the fact that, in describing your funk, you are also helping me deal with mine. I'm having breakfast with a friend who puts up with people in funks, and listens supportively....unloading sometimes helps.
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