bob dylan part two

i want to write about this bob dylan thing, but i don't really know how to organize everything. so how about this? i'll go with the vignette approach. aphorisms. snapshots. call them what you will...

- i am going to michigan to write songs for awhile, and i am thinking of buying a typewriter.

- i want to be sitting at a plain wooden table, in a confortable office chair, typewriter in center of table, old notebooks on left, ash tray on right, cigarette in mouth, cup of coffee next to ash tray, caraffe of coffee behind cup. when i picture myself in this situation, i picture that i am bob dylan, however, not me... and when i am bob dylan, the cigarette hangs casually to the side, drooped just a bit, and i type vigorously, oblivious to whatever else is in the room, brilliant rhymes spilling into the page. i pause to ash my cigarette, take a sip of coffee, place the cigarette on the ashtray; and then i have another great idea.

were it me and not bob, i would take a drag and then cough, wonder why i am smoking when i have these allergies. i would tap my foot incessantly and look around the room, wondering why i drank so much coffee and isn't it a diarrhetic? and yep, apparently it is because now i have to go to the bathroom, and i haven't written a damn thing.

so this brings me, oddly, to the real issue: is the bob dylan thing a fantasy? if not, am i capable of doing anything like what he did? is that where my talent lies? should i do what i am doing now, namely, write pop songs that teenagers (and some older folks) can relate to? or at the least, tap their feet and drive around smiling?

i don't know, but i do know that i feel very fortunate to do what i am doing, even if it is nowhere near as important as what others have done before me.

still confused,
dan