orange you glad
i'm no expert, but i think mingus is a cat.
it's taken me a long time, but now i know and can move on to bigger and brighter endeavors. cast the experiments aside. and voyage on.
There's something not quite adding up about living in california. something not as wonderful as my fantasies told it. I figured out that the certain something missing is lots and lots of money. it's a fun killer sometimes.
Kevin and i walk around exploring like venture capitalists with no capital saying, "this store is neat, this restaurant has character, this neighborhood is cool" and then come home and stare at the wall.
we think, "if only we weren't so small!" like the child thinks.
it's enough to make me want to curl back up in academia and sleep for a couple of years.
hipster is an overused term here.
i think i'll have to take a waitressing job even though i really really really don't want to. only i have $13.86 left in my account. i don't want a job at all, actually. In the words of Dan Reeder "i got all the fuckin work i need".
i'm glad the qwerty key system put the '!' before the '$', it shows we had our priorities straight at one time, but i think it's a stretch to put the '#' before the '$' and prophetic to put the '@' on the 2 before the '$' and the '#'.
i had mused about becoming a life drawing model, but apparently it takes yogic powers of concentration. it is one thing to walk with grace, it is another thing entirely to live with it. i don't want to be a model of any sort anymore.
models don't eat anything, and yet they live. how scary.
truthfully i've been kind of depressed ever since my friend Steve told me that he worked for a time making corpses for the X files and get this, he said it wasn't even fun, that it was only a tiny step up from working in a kitchen. making pizza.
how am i supposed to handle that kind of news? the night i learned this, the darkness held its head in its hands as i drifted off to fitful sleep.
anything can be true. like art, it has no standards.
and i have no female friends, which is a familiar state of affairs, but all the more depressing for its familiarity. it's hard to make them when you're fucking gorgeous (well, YOU know). i want a girlfriend, one who shimmers like something to be won in conquest, but also glints like something with its own secrets.
its all so dangerous. meeting new people and trying new things can destroy the sweet illusion that the world is run and business done by those more competent than you are.
i think i'll emerge smelling like urine and camphor; life and dreams.
i watched other people play video games for an hour. what's wrong with me that i want to watch other people battle to the death the arm wrestling champions of the netherworld????
teetering, that's what we are. there's a discernible something in the air, though, like the smallest drop of blood in your mouth, and just as preoccupying.
football is for some people as nature is for poets, you can't understand life without its metaphors. but none of those people live in san francisco. thank christ.
but i need a job. i'd say i'm gathering it more everyday...gathering it into a bouquet of understanding, you might say.
ramen and defiance are natural bedfellows.
the opposite of love is stepping in shit. twice. in one day. the opposite of love is too much unsolicited attention from god.
i kind of miss drama, terrible and engaging.
my network is not so wide that any of it gets caught.
although i have listened to a friend's girl problems, which was distastefully enjoyable. she's full of love so terrible we hesitate to call it love, lest it drag the whole enterprise asunder.
i'm going to take indian dance here still...starting next month. so i'll be broke but maybe not fat too.
my interest in flamenco has waxed and waned, ...but you know i've BEEN to india, i've only dreamed of spain.
and i've been drinking. yes sir yes sir three bags full.
i think i ought to stop.
i'm starting to reek of olives.
But i still thank christ i'm not in philadelphia.
gotta go, i think kevin's getting arrested.
it's taken me a long time, but now i know and can move on to bigger and brighter endeavors. cast the experiments aside. and voyage on.
There's something not quite adding up about living in california. something not as wonderful as my fantasies told it. I figured out that the certain something missing is lots and lots of money. it's a fun killer sometimes.
Kevin and i walk around exploring like venture capitalists with no capital saying, "this store is neat, this restaurant has character, this neighborhood is cool" and then come home and stare at the wall.
we think, "if only we weren't so small!" like the child thinks.
it's enough to make me want to curl back up in academia and sleep for a couple of years.
hipster is an overused term here.
i think i'll have to take a waitressing job even though i really really really don't want to. only i have $13.86 left in my account. i don't want a job at all, actually. In the words of Dan Reeder "i got all the fuckin work i need".
i'm glad the qwerty key system put the '!' before the '$', it shows we had our priorities straight at one time, but i think it's a stretch to put the '#' before the '$' and prophetic to put the '@' on the 2 before the '$' and the '#'.
i had mused about becoming a life drawing model, but apparently it takes yogic powers of concentration. it is one thing to walk with grace, it is another thing entirely to live with it. i don't want to be a model of any sort anymore.
models don't eat anything, and yet they live. how scary.
truthfully i've been kind of depressed ever since my friend Steve told me that he worked for a time making corpses for the X files and get this, he said it wasn't even fun, that it was only a tiny step up from working in a kitchen. making pizza.
how am i supposed to handle that kind of news? the night i learned this, the darkness held its head in its hands as i drifted off to fitful sleep.
anything can be true. like art, it has no standards.
and i have no female friends, which is a familiar state of affairs, but all the more depressing for its familiarity. it's hard to make them when you're fucking gorgeous (well, YOU know). i want a girlfriend, one who shimmers like something to be won in conquest, but also glints like something with its own secrets.
its all so dangerous. meeting new people and trying new things can destroy the sweet illusion that the world is run and business done by those more competent than you are.
i think i'll emerge smelling like urine and camphor; life and dreams.
i watched other people play video games for an hour. what's wrong with me that i want to watch other people battle to the death the arm wrestling champions of the netherworld????
teetering, that's what we are. there's a discernible something in the air, though, like the smallest drop of blood in your mouth, and just as preoccupying.
football is for some people as nature is for poets, you can't understand life without its metaphors. but none of those people live in san francisco. thank christ.
but i need a job. i'd say i'm gathering it more everyday...gathering it into a bouquet of understanding, you might say.
ramen and defiance are natural bedfellows.
the opposite of love is stepping in shit. twice. in one day. the opposite of love is too much unsolicited attention from god.
i kind of miss drama, terrible and engaging.
my network is not so wide that any of it gets caught.
although i have listened to a friend's girl problems, which was distastefully enjoyable. she's full of love so terrible we hesitate to call it love, lest it drag the whole enterprise asunder.
i'm going to take indian dance here still...starting next month. so i'll be broke but maybe not fat too.
my interest in flamenco has waxed and waned, ...but you know i've BEEN to india, i've only dreamed of spain.
and i've been drinking. yes sir yes sir three bags full.
i think i ought to stop.
i'm starting to reek of olives.
But i still thank christ i'm not in philadelphia.
gotta go, i think kevin's getting arrested.
posted by Arcade Coalminerson at 1:33 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home