yeahhh.
Lately I keep thinking about wanting to write a short story about having sex with this customer from work. It isn't a sex story, and I would keep it really clean. But a first-person account of meeting this strange woman and having a strange encounter with her. Actually it's less about the real person... when I was trying to explain her to my friend the other day I unintentionally embellished some details in a way which made me think. The more I interact with her the harder it is to believe that she is real. I think if I wrote a profile of her based on our interactions people would think it was some kind of parody.
Over the past however-many months I have read so much, more than I've read in years. The other day I was telling someone about novels I've read recently, and I realized I would really enjoy trying to write some short stuff. Unfortunately I think the kind of story I would write is worthless, actually worse than worthless because it would be the uninteresting, accidentally pretentious writing of a guy who doesn't actually know that much about literature, but nonetheless wants to write strange short stories that don't go anywhere. "hey, look, this guy has read Borges and only Borges." I'm sure I told you guys about my fiction class in college, where I wrote the story about the guy who turns his apartment into a maze-nest-thing. I was so proud of how creeped out my classmates were. Most of them wrote "GROSS" or "THIS PART IS DISGUSTING" on their copies. Later the professor talked about that story in class, not remembering it was mine, which was pretty strange.