Hunter,
Last night I heard the line, summarized, "It's not your life to live" or something like that. Despite the record lows outside, I went for a nice walk and felt great. For once, or perhaps something like techno magic, which is not an extended coke jam version of Yeah Yeah Yeahs Y Control Brooklyn Fire Retouch, although that is awesome. Techno magic in the sense of walking down an empty street with a beer in your pocket, then in your mouth, then on the ground and your IPod on random playing several appropriate and forgotten songs.
First, next, last. Bed
It has been a strange week. Truly. Too much intake, still waiting on results. I think in terms of half remembered poems, from institution to discovery. "Oh god, real life".
Masochism and getting what you want, or what you think you want because there was distance and now close up you realize you just want to be wanted. And then you get bored. And then what happens?
Oh yeah, in regards to what Veronica said about pointing out things when people are upset, when you ask people preemptively why they are anything, dont be surprised when they get pissed when you ask, why are you mad. Also, growing up is phase, and the one you are going through but you dont have to justify your actions to anyone but yourself. And I am not being nice or being supportive.
Also, my thanatic drive killed my libido. Now it just about remembering.
On a lighter note
1 comment:
It has been a strange week...too much of some things and far too little of others...you claim an aversion to routine, but I think you miss it, if only slightly.
Deep breaths and mulled wine, a la Amelie...bisous.
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