That’s a Björk reference in the title to this post.  And she had an album called Post, so you know, approps.  I’m getting little episodes of mania, not necessarily rising to the level of needing treatment, but they give me glimpses of a worse life.  Insights.  I think this is a good example of the way mania messes with artistic types:  I have a novel to be writing.  So far it’s gone well, I was feeling the character and the action was compelling.  But as I have time to write on it this morning, I just want to listen to wild music, daydream about being a rock star.  Or at least doing cronchy electro-goth covers of The Go-gos, Danzig, Van Halen, and Madonna, doing videos for yewchoob where I act like a freak.  That’s what I’ll do with my life, yeah…  Fucken useless.
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