Non Sequel/Sequitur

Sequels tend to ordinarily not equal their forebear/ progenitors whatever those big words mean. I never was going to get away with sitting through vocabulary development in college ( I would have been easily identifiable as a ringer ) .

I keep thinking of a follow up to What Not To Submit To A Legitimate Website. So here is an effort at producing something of equal if not greater value than the aforementioned.

A teenage lyricist destined to pursue something else might try paraphrasing an existing hit, while keeping its essential melody. Exhibit A:

Downtown narrow side streets

bad part of town...

Ain't no police station in your sight

everybody looks you up and down.

Sound familiar? Think say the late J. Croce and do as they say the musical math. Not up to the late entertainer's Turnaround Tucker by any stretch.

Keep in mind that good old Daniel Hill managed a smash top forty tune, if not an album. All that needs to be said is there is no accounting for taste; actually his sappiness grew on me after a time; sort of like say lichen.

This brings to mind old Mr. Dave Mason and Do You Want To Make Love? Again this will never be my favorite stuff, yet you try to appreciate even the likes of say Christopher Cross, Phil Cross RCA and all the others. Who can forget Life Is A Rock But The Radio Rolled Me if you were of a certain generation?

The previous couple sentences brings to mind an acquaintance of mine and his taste/knowledge of music. This guy made a comment about a younger siblings affinity for Play That Funky Music White, Boy that theoretically should no longer resonate with me after four decades, She was memorable, more so than her sibling in a certain sense. She aimed a kick to his shin; he being a few years her senior, caught her ankle and made her dance after which she raced in to their mother in tears. This made her almost seem a sympathetic character as younger seemingly powerless/momentarily helpless siblings do oftentimes. Of course the situation would be viewed in an entirely different light had she been male. The thrills of childhood and the agony of its torturous aspects.

Write to sleep.

I wished I could have fallen in love as easily.

Work however has a way of curing insomnia.

Envisioned waves,

water falling sleepily

pull me along, through the night.

The above could perhaps be a decent beginning to some sort of nocturnally oriented verse. That is to say, a young high school age student might find this of interest. More likely than not this would develop into a same sex description of a brief flirtation at most and could never expect to morph into a song lyric.

Completely off topic or at least straying away as my ADF tends to make me do or Now For Something Completely Different. I was in my youth somewhat transfixed on occasion by torture inflicted upon people by their brothers/sisters and what not. Mostly it seemed to be a guy thing. There seems to be however a genre of the adult ( so called ) film industry devoted to fictional siblings of the opposite gender. In teal life I have not encountered much to substantiate the ludicrous stuff I once in a while view regarding this. It is definitely something of a taboo topic, probably due to the unhealthy aspects of actual incestuous behaviors. I always cop out and discuss excess boredom and the ways this leads at times to evil decadent activities.

I believe that word roots lead to knowledge, meaning and stuff if you work at it. Insect is related in my mind to incest somehow. In breeding is what insects are about and people who engage in this resemble their behaviorisms. Maybe there is a certain negative excitement attached to children mating as potential pro creators even with their closest ancestral relatives. I myself lately find almost everything but writing and its attendant myriad problems to be dull if not lifeless. There ought to be someway to get your kicks separate from route sixty six. Are there no limits to the nonsense I will type out as I close out my six hundred words here?