December 10th, 2005

abstract butterfly

the rococo paragraph, with needless brass filigree

What better way to spend a morning of insomnia after a trip than with a LiveJournal post?

Lately, I overcome my generic distaste for those posts which are widely called 'memes', that is, the post on a theme which everyone is posting. This does not mean, quite, that I plan to soon post quiz results in which I determine whether I am more attuned to faerie than an assortment of existentialist authors, or that I plan to start a community devoted to discussion of icons based on the television program "My Little Pony".

Instead, I'd like to take on a writing exercise. I always think that the first step in writing is in reading others' writings. If my thought is true, then I have taken that first step nobly and with aplomb,because I read so many of you so very assiduously.

I thought it might be fun to stretch a bit by writing to each of you who wishes to be so written about a personalized paragraph in the comments. This is a variation of the "I'll tell you why you're cool" or "I'll make you feel good" approach, except that I don't plan to say one thing just to give you a thrill--I'm much less fun than a carousel. It's not that I begrudge you a thrill--but I'd like us to have a different kind of exchange.

Thus, if you wish, I'm going to wax wordy about you in a paragraph in the comments. As with all my wordy segments, I may be entirely on the mark or off the mark. I may focus on any number of things, or any one thing, or I may descend into non-sequitur. I may even burst into my regrettable verse. I often will, frankly, gush, because, to be entirely honest, I have rather gushy feelings for a gushy lot of you. I'm really far too boring for you to take much disheart from the prospect of being gushed at in public, because this is not some exercise in passing out secret valentines or anything. I just thought it would be fun to write creatively in the form of a comment to any volunteers. I'll make each comment personalized, true, and alive. I can't promise not to bore you, not to make you blush, and I certainly can't promise to have my own view of you coincide with your own view of yourself. I may prove to be an unreliable narrator, but I'm the one who runs this journal, and my heart is, oddly enough, rather pure. So I offer to write it up, like a dry cleaning list, only more flowery.

Shall we play? Yes? Then type the word "Gush".