OK, it's slowly coming to me like molasses pouring out of a squeeze bottle. A germ of an idea. No, it's gone. The harder I try to conjure up a brilliant thought in my brain, the more it's screaming "uncle, uncle". Some days it's just like that. Why can't the mind be a blank slate those nights I have trouble sleeping? Right now I'd love a gaggle of elephants to pass through my living room so I can say that something really phenomenal just happened. Sipping an alcoholic beverage for the last hour hasn't loosened me up much. Maybe I need to move onto some harder stuff. No, this vice isn't the answer most experts would say.
That is the beauty my beloved vintage and retro world. I can escape and pay homage to the past at the same time. I can believe in only the goodness of decades past and romanticize them the way I want. Wow, I found a relevant angle. I've always found that not trying is the best way to get words to screen. What will I write about tomorrow? Good question!
"...After all, tomorrow is another day" Scarlett said. So true, so true.