I used to be strictly a metalhead. All about pounding drums and searing guitars. I remember when Saladbar in 10th grade gushed about the cure and I mocked her for it (admittedly we’d disliked each other since, uh, 6th grade or so). Or when Eden first played Kraftwerk for me and I was practically physically ill and demanded he remove that sound from the fucking air. I think I did the same thing with My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult, although we were on our way to the Kitchen Club (back in Teh Day) with Nelly and this was during my deepest darkest depression and anxiety attacks, when I’d quit smoking and my friendship with ‘mo ended. I’d quit smoking a while by then, but was still getting horrible anxiety attacks and acid reflux. This was when prilosec was still prescription before they made a low-dose OTC and I was taking that and it was just Not Helping Very Much. Anyway, my point is, MLWTKK came on the radio (how I’ll never fucking know, a pirate station, I imagine, cos who the fuck would play that on broadcast radio is beyond me. Kudos if it was, their shit must fucking spark together when they walk down the street.) and it was just grating, annoying nonsense. I couldn’t even recognize it as music. I don’t know if that makes any sense. It’s like when you’re looking at a picture or something and you can’t see what it is of, but you can see that it has a shape, it’s just…you can’t make the connection. It took Bert and Lis playing Orbital’s “The Box” for me in the car, smoked up and on the way to Subrageous or Taco Bell or something. God, has it really been 10 years? The creaking door sound when it turns dark ambient is still fucking awesome.
So here’s to music I’ve hated but now insist that is fucking JAWSOME
so eden calls me up. “your favorite person is back in miami.” “would you be friends again…it was a long time ago, he’s a different person, blahblhablhablhablah”
i don’t care anymore. i mean, it would be cool if i could trust people again. it would be nice to be able to make friends without pulling fucking teeth. but nothing’s going to undo that, so why bother? to pretend he wasn’t a bad person? to act like I’m and he’s OK and everything’s cool? I might as well call the bee up and say lets play pool or whatever. which again, pa’ que? i dunno. Eden’s acting like he throws me into a rage, but it’s really kind of worse because i feel nothing. He didn’t care then, so why fake it now? I dont’ get it. Indifference, which man…fuck I tried with that guy man. Afterwards, I mean. I tried the hardest and he just fucking threw it in my fucking face. So karma can take of that, I guess.
also, sun’s mad at me now and i don’t know why. but i guess i’m enough of an asshole that asking for a specific reason is kind of silly. putting me off for weeks with ‘don’t want to talk’ which i know what it’s like but then hangs with tai or mei? girl things, i don’t know. and I don’t even know if it’s me or not. asking just makes it worse without explaining anything.
oh and laurachicken gets brain surgery soonish.
and i find out the sex this weekkkkkkkkkkkkk
finally three days later my leg stopped hurting although last night more stabbing pains. i think about vic, you know. i mean, he was fine that week. put in a full day and we said later and i left him working on some windows shit with W and poof he’s gone. i gotta set things up for in case i shuffle off this mortal coil. I think of Dee and her bloodclot in her leg.
Reading pratchett, he does go on about humanism and what humanity means. One of my favorite things he’s ever said (or written) is about how all sin boils down to treating people as things. Rape, murder, theft — they all boil down to “you’re not a person, you’re just another thing I can use to get what I want”.
Another year coming around. I find myself re-evaluating all the shit, good and bad, come my way. I’m doing OK, I guess. There are some causes for sadness, but overall, I can’t complain too hard, really. I enjoy my new job, and despite the death of Vic (or maybe because of?) I am learning more and doing different things, which is something I wanted when I left the old joint. Had Indian for lunch earlier with the dudes from Ye Olde Jobbe and they are in misery full-force. Which sucks. That whole environment is like a kid trying too hard; they want to be a business/enterprise instead of educational/medical — or maybe they think they should be? — and they’re just stressing the wrong things. Be a hardass about what you expect, don’t be a hardass about vanity or chain of command or other bullshit pipe dreams about how to show that the proverbial dick is bigger than the other dudes’. On the bright side, in about 5 to 10 years time, it’s going to be SUCH a premier environment (reputation-wise, for their care and tech etc…workwise, meh…too soon to say and things are too fast-moving to be able to pin down.) Relationship stuff’s worked out, really. Interpersonal drama-llama visits have been avoided. Old friends come back, Eden’s back and I will hopefully soonish find myself making some music with Bunny. I find myself thinking of Cass, wondering if she’s doing OK. My phone calls and emails to her are infrequent and I think awkward for her. I’m hoping this is why she doesn’t reply to emails. I switched back to winamp for playing music (itunes for the ipod still, but winamp is still awesomer) and the queen cover comes up at the oddest fucking moments. Still, she was awesome and that was aside from having the most amazing tits ever. Skeeter’s still pissed at me, but since she won’t answer or pick up, I just leave “wishing you the best” messages every 6 months or so. Mils is here today and gone tomorrow, back with the ex she always will have a spot for, which is kinda good, really. Sun’s comin’ from the tx, and i will be going to tx come august and maybe san fran or canada in the winter? I dunno. The old man’s gonna have multiple surgeries done at once but is putting it off until my sister gives birth, I guess in case he dies. I try not to think about it. Maybe let the vacousness of television numb it down; dr who greys anatomy dexter futurama cooking shows. Some days it’s just so much and some days you just relish in jumping into the fray, you know?
in which Sterling provides an apt summary: “I consider it my personal Vietnam. If I had gone in and struck hard and fast and all in one go, none of that shit would have gone down. But because I didn’t, because I took it slow, I sabotaged myself. And I think it was because [removed].” “…So you consider it all your fault?” “Yes.” “And none of it would have happened and [removed] would still be friends with [removed].” “That’s what I’m saying.” “Wow, that’s a lot of guilt.”
in which Laura considers the possibility that there may be a better way to handle situations Laura: so, he is right. we do need more time. though i think he went about it totally wrong. but, i do realize he doesnt have the emotional capability/tact that i hhave (erm, maybe i dont always hav tact) David: like when you laughed at [laura's ex-boyfriend]‘s naked erection? Laura: yes David: some people might say that was …. less than fully tactful
in which Little Trouble Girl summarizes her complex love life: “So I’m going to see my husband in the hospital, but I stopped by to have lunch with my boyfriend — that I’m not having sex with because he’s married — to tell him about how I didn’t get laid last night with my coworker/crush because he couldn’t get it hard despite a long blowjob and to complain about how my fuckbuddy just left for [unnamed country] which is good because we might be developing feelings for each other. Which would be bad.”
in which i make an ass of myself at a party: “dude i was in college when you were still sucking your momma’s dick!” “you know my mom’s dead, right?”
The buddhist idea that desire is suffering always made sense to me, but I don’t know if I believe that the way to nirvana is by getting rid of desire. Might be my inner catholic, but reining desire in and putting it towards constructive use makes more sense than subjugating it or denying it or what-have-you.
I mean, hummingbirds don’t know that they burn through calories and need high amounts of sugar to keep their inner reactors going. They just know that the sweet stuff in plants is mmmmm mmmmm good. Draw your own parallels with sex, drugs, rock and roll, whatever gets you off. That they get pollen on ‘em and fulfill their raison d’etre is well beyond what they know. This bullshit self-awareness and torture makes us special, different.
Then again, the idea is not to kill desire, but to move beyond it, accept things the way they are. Nam myoho renge kyo.
So are you a slave to your desires? Does your happiness control you? Are you a slave to yourself?
