The Creative Struggle: Tits, Hockey, and Death

I have the unfortunate habit of preoccupying my mind with a plethora of ideas, trying to find their place in whatever I may be working on, and just ending up in inaction. For instance, today I read Sky Doll( a fantastic read), captivated with its ability to go from snarky satire on the nature of mass media and the downright sadness that comes with the perversion of spirituality and, subsequently, humanity. The floodgates open, my mind doesn't know where to settle so it drifts to other things; botany, hockey, the no-thingness of death,so it remains unsettled. It bummed me out for a good while, then I realized... perhaps this is just the typical day in my life. The perceived inanity and frivolity that one's life predominantly is the only place to find the stories. So, I guess I can rest easy tonight.