I just started Dave Eggers' memoir. I am still in the acknowledgements section, and I am already jealous.
Mine will be called "Ennui". No it won't.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Insert Idiot-stamp here
I could have sworn it was Jules et Jim. I was thinking of the statue. But apparently it was Hiroshima Mon Amour. FUCK.
There it goes. The one time I think I actually know enough to post. FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
There it goes. The one time I think I actually know enough to post. FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
Happy...Dying, but happy.
I need to write some positive things today. I am too tired of being angry. I've been overwhelmed lately. I guess I was in a situation that was too deep for my vodka-saturated brain. Squid brains. I am happy to feel somewhat relieved today, as I go back to my normal routine and a familiar mindset. I am happy to feel lonely, sweaty, even brave. I don't like bouncing back and forth between caring and indifference. I realize that I am very comfortable with one or the other and there may be no way to combine the two.
Every sentance in that paragraph starts with "I". Maybe that is my problem.
I don't see myself as self-involved (of course). I don't have many concerns, really. I don't fret about friends or lovers. It's not that I only think of myself...or, wait. Is that it?
I spend a lot of time thinking about death. My sister said that she thinks it's because I'm depressed. I guess that is supposed to be a way to tell if you are depressed. How often do you think about death? What's the measure? A couple times a day=depressed? A lot=suicidal? I can say that death is pretty much all I ever think about. Sex & death. Mostly death. But I am not depressed. It's just on my mind, that's all. And pretty much every conversation I have will lead back to it. But that doesn't mean a thing. Pretty much every conversation ANYONE has will lead to it, when you think about it. Right?
So I guess that train of thought is what inspires (in me) a lack of motivation. And I'd like to say that most of the time those thoughts make it easier for me to have a carefree attitude. But it's hard to find people to hang out with who don't mind the constant memento mori. And lovers don't like to be reminded that nothing lasts forever.
So here I am. It's August 12th (Happy Birthday Marla!!!!), and I don't have a tan. I don't have any money. And I woke up with John Denver's "Leavin' on a jet plane" stuck in my head.
I guess I am just bored.
Anyone watching Mad Men?
It's great.
Every sentance in that paragraph starts with "I". Maybe that is my problem.
I don't see myself as self-involved (of course). I don't have many concerns, really. I don't fret about friends or lovers. It's not that I only think of myself...or, wait. Is that it?
I spend a lot of time thinking about death. My sister said that she thinks it's because I'm depressed. I guess that is supposed to be a way to tell if you are depressed. How often do you think about death? What's the measure? A couple times a day=depressed? A lot=suicidal? I can say that death is pretty much all I ever think about. Sex & death. Mostly death. But I am not depressed. It's just on my mind, that's all. And pretty much every conversation I have will lead back to it. But that doesn't mean a thing. Pretty much every conversation ANYONE has will lead to it, when you think about it. Right?
So I guess that train of thought is what inspires (in me) a lack of motivation. And I'd like to say that most of the time those thoughts make it easier for me to have a carefree attitude. But it's hard to find people to hang out with who don't mind the constant memento mori. And lovers don't like to be reminded that nothing lasts forever.
So here I am. It's August 12th (Happy Birthday Marla!!!!), and I don't have a tan. I don't have any money. And I woke up with John Denver's "Leavin' on a jet plane" stuck in my head.
I guess I am just bored.
Anyone watching Mad Men?
It's great.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Popless Week 31
Noel Murray finally hit Pavement. And of course, something "stuck out".
The destructive impulse in some musicians can be exciting in and of itself, and it's easy to understand why a lot of critics and music buffs gravitate towards acts that like to knock their own block towers down. But after a while, the knocking-down stops looking like creative courage and starts to look more like sadism, spiked with an unhealthy dose of adolescent petulance. There needs to be some element of contrast to make willful sloppiness work. In a movie, a long static take has more impact if it's not surrounded by a dozen more long static takes; in music, noise and aggression are often more effective if it's clear that a band is capable—and willing—to do something else.
Of course, musical preoccupations can go the other way, too. Some critics—myself, for one—get exhausted by extremity and start to overpraise music that is florid and pretty, seeing crystalline beauty as the supreme value. But that's a neurosis for another day.
The destructive impulse in some musicians can be exciting in and of itself, and it's easy to understand why a lot of critics and music buffs gravitate towards acts that like to knock their own block towers down. But after a while, the knocking-down stops looking like creative courage and starts to look more like sadism, spiked with an unhealthy dose of adolescent petulance. There needs to be some element of contrast to make willful sloppiness work. In a movie, a long static take has more impact if it's not surrounded by a dozen more long static takes; in music, noise and aggression are often more effective if it's clear that a band is capable—and willing—to do something else.
Of course, musical preoccupations can go the other way, too. Some critics—myself, for one—get exhausted by extremity and start to overpraise music that is florid and pretty, seeing crystalline beauty as the supreme value. But that's a neurosis for another day.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Everything in it's right place
Yesterday I woke up suckin' a lemon.
I wish I could put in to words how much I really don't care.
I'm sure this party is going to be lame. The same six people sitting in a room staring at each other. While I bounce up and down making drinks and picking music and being uncomfortable. They don't like it when I play Coheed. Or Tool. So I put on Justin Timberlake. Nobody dances. That reminds me. We should pick up more salsa.
I need to pay some bills.
I'll buy the booze first.
I'll happily sacrifice my credit if it means I will have a nice fat frozen bottle of Ketel One in my freezer. I'm sure Target & Chase Card Services will understand. They already know I don't care.
It doesn't matter that YOU feel bad. YOU make other people feel bad all the fucking time. SHE doesn't pay attention. Neither do YOU.
I did.
It's the devil's way now
There is no way out
You can scream & you
can shout
It is too late now
Because
You have not been
paying attention
I wish I could put in to words how much I really don't care.
I'm sure this party is going to be lame. The same six people sitting in a room staring at each other. While I bounce up and down making drinks and picking music and being uncomfortable. They don't like it when I play Coheed. Or Tool. So I put on Justin Timberlake. Nobody dances. That reminds me. We should pick up more salsa.
I need to pay some bills.
I'll buy the booze first.
I'll happily sacrifice my credit if it means I will have a nice fat frozen bottle of Ketel One in my freezer. I'm sure Target & Chase Card Services will understand. They already know I don't care.
It doesn't matter that YOU feel bad. YOU make other people feel bad all the fucking time. SHE doesn't pay attention. Neither do YOU.
I did.
It's the devil's way now
There is no way out
You can scream & you
can shout
It is too late now
Because
You have not been
paying attention
The first of the children
Apparently, I tend to be indifferent. Apathetic. Detached.
Yeah. I am.
And the thing is, I think that makes me smarter than the rest. Seriously.
I would feel bad about that. But, you know.
Yeah. I am.
And the thing is, I think that makes me smarter than the rest. Seriously.
I would feel bad about that. But, you know.
Ice age comin'
I used to carry a load of guilt with me everywhere I went. I put it down.
Why would you blame me?? Fuck. I didn't do a fuckin' thing. I AM NOT WRONG.
Why would you blame me?? Fuck. I didn't do a fuckin' thing. I AM NOT WRONG.
I'd really like to help you, man.
I realize that it doesn't take much for me to get to this point anymore, but I have arrived just the same. It is easy for me to walk away from something I don't like. I don't need the headache. I can cut you off just like that.
And, trust me, I don't look back.
And, trust me, I don't look back.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)