written in the body

I think that the problem is that, while I sometimes am able to get outside myself and write about things other than memememe, sometimes I just can't. (And even when I can, I'm always inevitably present in my own writing, of course. There's just greater and lesser extents of memememe syndrome.) And this is a definite memememe week, but I don't want to just write about myself so I'm stuck.

The word "self-centered" is interesting, isn't it? Shouldn't that be a good thing? I want to be centered in my self. But when I am, at least in the corporeal sense, it's so easy to feel irritable and distracted as my body steals the show.

Because it's just been such a body week. For me, there are times when the ways I deal with the world are so strongly dictated by the whims of the flesh that everything else comes second. I can't stop thinking about food, or sex, or I'm hungry all the time but nothing appeals, or I can't sleep, or something. This week I'm full of sore muscles and pleasantly distracted mind and waaaaaaay too much Mahler and in between thinking about all of the other pieces I should already know. Which is all fine, but not inspiring me to lift myself out of my body.

Oh well. Maybe soon.