You bet, I started worrying about swelling head.
I had to flush out the crap from my head just to be safe than sorry. However, I needed an outlet; it would be socially wrong if I disposed of my crap improperly. I needed something... like a blog! Of course, I already had one to abuse. But at that time, I was also contemplating on a major renewal. So, hastily putting up a new template, this is what you got, a new blog and a four-part short story, The Secret Agent, which I hope will win a Pulitzer Prize.
I have no idea how I got the inspirations. Part of them were simply random crap, part of them came up during a discussion with a friend. It was sort of a "diarrhea of ideas".
Look up on that expression in A Contemporary Dicksionary of Newly-Coined Terms, under the entry "diarrhea":
-IdiomsRest assured, it had nothing to do with cactus dildo, even though KOJA keeps pestering me about it.
2. diarrhea of ideas, a state where one gets an uncontrollable gush of inspiration.
But that was three weeks ago. Right now, my fount of inspiration is running dry. The Secret Agent will probably be my magnum opus, and my future works will forever live in its shadows. Because I'm now suffering from a "constipation of ideas". Nothing is coming out. If this persists, I might have to pay a visit to the pharmacy to get a prescription for laxative.
Or maybe it's simply because I ran out of crap after the recent diarrhea. But I do hope that's not the case - I still have many Pulitzer Prizes to win.