Saturday, June 2, 2007
Update....
....out of writing angst™. It seems like every time I'm three-fourths of the way through with writing something on a topic I have a definite stance on, I'm suddenly hit with all kinds of detractions. Reasons that make my original point seem unfounded. Holes wide enough for Divine to fall through. I need to have this written as soon as possible, and now I'm going to have to start over. Bitch, bitch, bitch. I should delete that.All writing issues aside, this is the week that rocked the casbah. I don't know how it happened. I've been overly busy/stressed/short on time, but that was balanced with getting out and doing a lot of things. Fun things. Overly lame fun things that are USDA grade-A certified r0x0r. W00T! I think it has to do with the feeling of actually getting stuff done for a change. I tend to be the flesh equivalent of a slime mold. I should be motivated more often. Chelsey dragged me over to Max's apartment because she had to give him something. I finally saw a bit of his artwork which, of course, was as amazing as everything else about him and he has now succeeded in making me feel entirely inadequate in three categories. He said we should come over more often. I want to eat him alive. Nate said I just need to get laid.(A great week so far. Now all I have to do is make it through Saturday without Infatuated-Guy trying to contact me. You and you know what I'm talking about. HA HA HA! Ha. The story hath developed new chapters. New chapters that are uglier than cEvin Key.)The more I read over this entry the less I enjoy it. Tastee cakes. DAMN IT. THERE IT GOES AGAIN.What really amuses me are über-anarchist "Smash the corporate machine! Rip the system!" webpages with advertising banner ads.
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4 comments:
The last part made me nearly pee meh pants.Not that there's anything wrong with that...many ppl my age pee their pants, it's da COOLEST!
This Max fellow sounds interesting, considering all you've said about him. No comment on the needing to get laid business. Don't start comparing your talents to those of others: that be the road to madness. I'm not one to talk, 'cuz I do it all the time ("Rimbaud had burned almost all of his stuff by the time he was nineteen and I'm still turning this shit out?"), but still...Think about it this way: Narx and I (and pretty much everyone else who sees it) love your stuff, yes? You don't think that Max feels the same type of frustration and self-criticism that you do? He's probably written just as many self-depricating entries in his own journal as you, if not more: he's older, right? We lose all objective critical faculties when looking at our own work; that's why I like to give stuff a one-year or so cooling off period so that I can look at it with a more unprejudiced eye later on.Hope you're still living in a boring guy-free zone. Tell him you're gay. Or not. That might backfire.I like the $6 "Anarchy" patches that they sold at the head shop in thee old hometown.Oh yeah: I'll be terribly hurt and shan't ever talk to you again if I don't have an email in my box by the end of the day. Narf. ;)
I didn't even realize it was directed by Peter Christopherson. Nifty. But now that you mention it, I think I remember hearing that a long time ago. Too many things to keep track of. Hmm. It might be an explanation, but is it an excuse? :)
Why, thank you! Heh. I'll take your word for it.
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