Remnants 3 - ay, where's mah creativity at?

So lately I've been working on a really long mix, but beyond that I feel like I'm not having any ideas of my own.

. . . and I don't even really know where I was going with this post.

Anyway, I have no ideas; my creativity went AWOL and I am frustrated beyond comprehension. Thus I shall write about life (default subject that's always going to have some kind of story in it because guess what? stories are based on life). On that note, I might as well write about-- oh wait, that idea already got written in Assigned Blog Post 01 (stuff about how no one can create something truly original because human imagination is bounded by reality).

I feel like my mind has devolved into some lower existence. At the moment, I can no longer produce any kind of analysis on anything. I can't go into some deep-sounding, philosophical take on how my mind is structured. I can't spew some ramblings about how our universe exists as a single point within a black hole in another, greater universe (although I have heard that that may be the case, partly due to the fact that a black hole's mass is not infinite). I'm starting to feel like one of those people who write on their blogs because they want to share stories about what's happening in life. I'm starting to feel like one of those people who just looks at the surface and probably isn't even aware of what's underneath, one of those people that kinda explodes once they do realize that most of life is what happens underneath the surface. I find it very demeaning and I am frustrated beyond comprehension.

But since I'm in that kind of mode anyway, I suppose I should write on my blog because I (apparently) want to share stories about what's happening in life.

So I was having a conversation with a friend, which I started off by making fun of the fact that he needed to come up with an idea for [life goes here]. I'd like to think he got the impression that I was a total jerk, just to make me feel better about the fact that he later wanted my opinion on an idea he came up with, and then I told him that that was why I had asked earlier (aww, aren't I the bestest friend in the whole wide world, all concerned for my buddies when they need to figure out [life goes here]). I suppose part of the reason this whole incident made me feel good is that it helped me reassure myself that I'm still me, or maybe that we are still me. Still the jerk who would rather ignore the inferiority of others than fix it; still a part of the crowd, laughing at all the little things that (don't) count in life.