this bitch is mine

The cymbals look a bit gay now that I come to think of it, but other than that, I have a lot of work cut out for myself.


fuck info

"When you have all these micro music genres popping up out of nowhere, it seems like the only way to expand or retain any sort of relevance is to exhaust every possible variation until it implodes like this supernova leaving a residue of hundreds of shit MP3s." - Alan Palomo (aka Neon Indian).

This guy is actually really well-spoken, which is weird.


inferno astral

I want to live inside a shell. I want to look at the silence and listen to the quiet nothing. I want to live inside my own ear. I want to really feel nothing at all again, because emotions of any kind tend to backfire into the eyeball, untrustworthy whores that they are. And this gray limbo land is kind of nice anyway, because here I'm always prepared to take shit and expect nothing from all the endless cowards.

puppies get carsick: episode 1

So I'm a genius, that's to fool proof the agenda of the unnerving neverstopping mind.

Next topic: sincerity

Next topic: decency

Next topic: how to find the multiple levels of depth in one shallow glass-like thing, or person

Next topic: finding oneself bored in a maze of long fringes

Next topic: why I find the old-school comforts so valueable and terrific. Fucking dictionaries are a well of free wisening wisdom. They define everything and everyone. They assigne words and meanings to things, and over time we forget to revisit this true meaning. When I was in high school I had this philosophy teacher, and we all used to think she was a little bit insane. Well, she was. But in any case, yes, she used to make us circle words in our Socrates biography photocopied texts, words we didn't know, and we would spend most of the class breaking down words and finding out whether they came from Latin or Greek or what. And why certain words have the same roots and why we assign these labels to things and what we're really trying to get at when we say them. And I, being the nerdy kid that I was, used to find all this mildly amusing, while the rest of the class snored. To be honest, I didn't fully get her until this year, when I started (very weird) reading the dictionary and looking up random words. Getting to the bottom of definition.

She used to also rave about The Outsider, a book by Albert Camus which she thought defined "the nausea of being a human being." Back then I was lazy and had too much chemistry homework to do so I never got  around to it. I was curious though and wondered what the hell she meant by the nausea of being a human being. She always talked about the nausea of being a human being and I used to imagine this central character just roaming around the beach feeling really really sick like he was about to vomit - the extent of his non-fitting in society. I think I now know what she meant by it though. She used to describe the book as though it was almost like a frightening truth to read it. Like it would shock you and you could never be the same again. I have begged and begged my friend Josh and I now currently stand reading this much coveted... thing. I haven't finished it yet, but I can see how fitting it is to regard this book as a turning point in thought.


i know something you know

And if you could just for a second look at me and just make your lip more calm, it would really make a difference in that instance because I would try to make my face uncrease in tension. And I would smile with more balm and respirate all of this lush I feel for you, and instead of touching I would be communicating with my slow breathing. And if you would just let go for a second you could probably allow yourself to take in a breath-full of my tried and very verified intoxication, and I would venture to say something out of the ordinary as I do usually, and we wouldn't even have to touch at the least if I could at least inhale back the same face, which you would try awkwardly, but you would try it for me.