still on (msnvwls) wrote,
still on

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you're an idiot, babe

”If you see her, say hello/She might be living in Tangier/She left here last early Spring/Is livin’ there, I hear”

Atlanta has its ups and downs, its pros and cons, its good things and its bad. I’ve been telling people that all things considered, I couldn’t be happier, but I don’t know if that’s true, really – I mean, I always add the “all things considered” modifier to make sure everyone knows that I’m not really happy here. I wonder how much of it is me, how much of it is this place, and how much of it is everything that’s happened recently. Not a lot’s happened recently, or at least not a lot worth writing about. Physically, I haven’t been up to much, my heart and mind have been active enough for everybody lately. Not moving a whole lot in other areas, either.

”And though our separation/It pierced me to the heart/She still lives inside of me/We’ve never been apart”

Finished V for Vendetta, bought and started Thomas Pynchon’s V. Joseph Esteban’s recommendation as well as the main character from Vendetta’s sealed the deal. I hope to finish it before The Life and Opinion of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman arrives from Barnes and Noble, but don’t know if that’s possible. I think I’m looking forward to reading that book more than I’ve ever looked forward to reading in a book, or if that’s not true, I’m the most excited about a book before reading it than I have been in a while.

Musically, I finally started listening to white music again – doom metal and death metal and psychedelic and Blood on the Tracks (obviously) and other things of that nature (though that’s a very indefinable nature, I suppose). Went on a 2 day Nirvana binge after being spurred by Dave but didn’t go off the deep end. I have been listening to some colored folks - Ini Kamoze in particular – but not a ton. I’ve been searching for great basslines, and if you guys know of many that weren’t mentioned here, here, or here, please, I’d love to hear ‘em. I’m seeing a mix or possibly countdown sometime in the future, if I can get enough truly great ones. The question is, how much Bootsy and Watt is too much Bootsy and Watt?

There’s more to report on the movie front than there has been in a long time. Saw The Squid and the Whale, Cache, Capote, and Good Night and Good Luck (I saw the 2nd and 4th with Julia, it was nice hanging out with her again). In terms of being good, I would put them in that order, but I think all 4 might have a place on my top 10 of 2005 list (and while I liked all 4, I don’t think I could say anything that would be a bigger diss upon the quality of movies in ’05). I’ve also watched Los Olvidados twice since checking it out from the school library and plan one more for today before I return it on Monday. It’s every bit as good as I remembered, and I like savoring these opportunities to watch it again and again, since it is nearly impossible to find. Oh, and I’ve been watching about 20 minutes of Once Upon a Time in America every night before I fall asleep; at this rate, I will be done in two years.

”Oh, whatever makes her happy/I won’t stand in the way/Though the bitter taste still lingers on/From the night I tried to make her stay”

I’ve been writing a lot. I’m afraid to show it to all of you or to anybody, because I don’t know how it’ll be received. Somewhere inside of me I believe it’s all genius and somewhere else I believe it’s all tripe. I presented the idea of posting snippets of writings here to Basil and Uncle Voggy, and both of them thought it was a good idea, so don’t be surprised if this journal becomes a highly conceptual exercise in self-gratification in the near future. The two of them also expressed interest in making a film together, which I think might be a nice idea. It’d be nice to be behind the camera again.

”Either I’m too sensitive/Or else I’m gettin’ soft”

I drive around here a lot, and go on long walks to nowhere in particular, Faust’s first album usually blasting in my ears. I decided that “Why Don’t You Eat Carrots?” was the perfect walking song sometime when I was in Toronto, and nothing that’s happened since then has led me to believe otherwise. I think about things I probably shouldn’t. I wonder where He grew up. I wonder if He took these same walks, if I’m on the same path He used to travel, on bike or on foot or on whatever His privileged life afforded him to travel on. I think about my friends’ constant praising of Him, and wonder if they understand the cynicism lurking behind everything I say. I’m bitter, and I’ve got no problem admitting it. I’m mad, but I’m clearheaded. I’ve been thinking a lot about the government, and about politics in general, and how disconnected I feel from the rest of the world. I sit beside the creek out back and dream that it’s a mighty river, and wonder if I got a boat and sailed down that river to its end, if the world would be any different. I question experience, I question friendships, I worry and I brood. I sit alone at home when I should be out having fun and I don’t feel the least bit disappointed in the decisions I’ve made since I’ve been here. I sometimes wish I had given Statesboro a better or second chance, but then I remember how perfect my geographic location is. I don’t ever want to move, I just want to make friends, and I want to fall in love again, and I want to sit on my back in the park up the street and stare at the clouds and listen to Ohio Express until I just can’t stand it anymore.

But for now, confusion is the flavor du jour, and if nothing else, at least it feels right.

”If she’s passin’ back this way/I’m not that hard to find/Tell her she can look me up/If she’s got the time”
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