Damn the brain...

Lately I've been getting a nudge from an old play/script I was working on -- "Cyber-Tribes." It's an updating of Aristophanes "The Birds" and I have the first half of Act I written (and I've also got it in a very poor screenplay version). Well...listening to Depeche Mode for Allen's character has me thinking it would be perfect for a rock musical if done in that vein. And now would be the perfect stage to shift it in that direction.

But I need to get POS and BC-3 done. And I keep that at the fore of my brain...while that project keeps nudging. And nudging. Along with two others. Like a pack of cats, each wanting to be brushed at the same time. I can handle two at once, but not half a dozen.

But still......this came to mind, only today. All chrome and cruel and kind and counter-revolutionary while being revolutionary and demanding and gleaming florescent light and in your face and pissed as hell and I wonder...I wonder...

Shit, I wonder if I'm just practicing my usual avoidance.

Fuck it -- slam out BC-3. It's ready to be done. POS...that'll take some time, still.

But can I write lyrics on the level of David Gahan and Martin Gore?

I gotta lay off the Acai juice; it's making me think I can do the impossible...though I guess it COULD be the fish oil supplements clearing out my clogged up brain.

UPDATE: I now have 107 solid pages on BC-3 and, after some cuts and canoodling, just under 60,000 words. It's getting close, all of a sudden.