half remembered nightmare quote

someone recently told me that selfishness in the quest for improved esteem was okay. well i have a hard time with that. so here goes. i feel that wanting to know everybody's weird terrible idiosyncrasies is unrealistic, because the whole idea is that once people already like you, any bomb you drop will be safe. the mutually assured distraction, or discussion. i have no problem with the lasting relationships i have with people. jeffrey eugendies said it is a bad idea to sleep with your fantasy. i agree. i am weird. i like seeing books i gave people, or nicknames that have stuck or this shared experience communication exchange. i dont have ambition, i just want a drinking buddy wherever i am. not in the sense of drinking per se, but in the sense of someone who finds me funny, where the conversation is never as heavy as the food and the jokes are inappropriate. this will change one day and i fear i will be more lost than i have ever been. i dont know if i will ever get back. i am learning to be okay with this. i wish i could tell people i love them before it is too late. i wish i didnt react in a way that attempted to cut people out, because sometimes people take those cues and beat me to the punch. i would like to be a glorious mess or just a mediocre failure but the way people see me will never be the way i see myself.

what a long week. i dont know what the hell is going on anymore. i dont know what the point is of anything anymore and finding things to fill the void just makes the hole deeper. i cant put things into words anymore. ayyyyyyyyyyyy, like a chonga losing an earring as she is going to see the padre of her babinos. an earring hector gave her.

home

be it a bread line or a punch line, i'll cross it with you.

as the beer grows warm and the friends grow older

continental drift applied to personality. or just social networks. nobody likes to confronted with mortality, least of all their own. we all escape into ourselves and sometimes because of ourselves. the expanse is vast and the words so shallow. if ever a time to forge a binary, the one of experience vs. material rages silently. one could argue the experience is material, but to deny experience, well you my acquaintance are mistaken. people love to hurt from experience, whether it be good or bad hurt. to feel anything, in large and seeping quantity, that is the crux of adverts and life itself. commerce of ideas, commerce of stuff all comes from this place of craving permanence, as if a fruitfly wanted a tattoo. we feel it, but cant hold it, just have to think it and hope it follows us, transmuting as our moods and bodies grow weary and large, before we blink out. reverse the verse and kick it to the hearse, i stand corrected with the beat perfected. i dont have much but a varying vocabulary and the love of a good story. my trinkets and thoughts are just as easily traded as produce before metal, gods before computers. but i am here, myself, this breathing meme factory and here to interact and advance those seeking same.

I have seen this movie several times, missed this part completely.

You don't appreciate the chaos and absurdity of life on this planet. You don't understand irony, or ethnicity, or eccentricity, or poetry, or the simple joy of being a regular at the diner on your block. I love that. You don't drink coffee or alcohol. You don't over eat. You don't cry when you're alone. You don't understand sarcasm. You plod through life in a neat, colorless, caffeine free, dairy free, conflict free way. I'm bold and angry and tortured and tremendous and I notice when someone has changed their hair part, or when someone is wearing two very distinctly different shades of black or when someone changes the natural temperment of their voice on the phone. I don't give out empty praise. I'm not complacent or well-adjusted. I can't spend fifteen minutes breathing and stretching and getting in touch with myself. I can't spend three minutes finishing an article. I check my answering machine nine times every day and I can't sleep at night because I feel that there is so much to do and fix and change in the world, and I wonder every day if I am making a difference and if I will ever express the greatness within me, or if I will remain forever paralyzed by muddled madness inside my head. I've wept on every birthday I've ever had because life is huge and fleeting and I hate certain people and certain shoes and I feel that life is terribly unfair and sometimes beautiful and wonderful and extraordinary but also numbing and horrifying and insurmountable and I hate myself a lot of the time. The rest of the time I adore myself and I adore my life in this city and in this world we live in. This huge and wondrous, bewildering, brilliant, horrible world.

mixtape

thao nguyen - swimming pools
beatles - here there and everywhere
candylion - candylion
patsy cline - walking after midnight
rufus wainwright - grey gardens
modest mouse - 3rd planet
cat power - he war
belle and sebastian - get me away from here, im dying
phoenix - if i ever feel better
feist - brandy alexander
beck - girl
radiohead - talkshow host
rilo kiley - rise up with fists!!
elliott smith - son of sam
otis redding - sitting on a dock on a bay
bjork - all is full of love
sufjan stevens - jacksonville
rufus wainwright - sanssouci

sorry about last night, i just needed to talk to someone. not that you are someone, but i know that you were tired. a painkiller and sad films are not good for an ever darkening tunnelvision mindset.

thanks for being a friend, like you are.

aim above morality

i wish i could do this on the daily. a(muse) accidental about the ebb and flow, the variations on the same theme that is in and out, in and out. waves, heartbeats, stylized shots of travel in a movie, fast and slow, talking and action. so today we have garlic basil tater tots with a Rotel glaze and chocolate butterscotch pancakes. a good way to lose a Saturday and some inches on your wastedline, for sure. Steel Magnolias and Southern Fried Beverages for the PM, as the dusk becomes what could have been, and the thought of tomorrow comes too soon. We sit and look up at the moon, object of intense contemplation and hours of non speak. Thanks for the memories, ocean filled and dark. Glowing orb giving off more than a spark. These are the days that make rust in the mind, indicative of hours of a good time.

your friend,

Errant One, Bullshit walks and money talks Tuzuner