Day: January 12, 2005

when you’re lying next to me

I just spent an hour sipping pure butterscotch from a jar and stalking ants with a little spray gun full of ammonia. Somehow, this may be the closest I ever have come to having a Hunter S. Thompson moment. Dangerous chemicals, weapons, and frightening mind altering drugs. Check, check, and check.

This is for my blonde Bill:

Frank woke up tired. Hot sounds today, long drawn out sighs. The remedy obvious but unavailable. He slipped off all his clothes. Face to face with a laid back reflection, the blistering water always runs out too soon. Side to side, soap in hand, this is useless, he thought. He closed his eyes and let the water run cold. Ice prickles on his skin. I am not alone, he thought. I am not this sorry man, standing alone in the shower, unhappy. I am a god. The water began to freeze on his skin, hoarfrost traveling down his bare legs and into the drain. Molecules began to slow, entropy receding outward to the rooms of his house. He opened my eyes. I’m right, he thought, and the sun stopped.

He gave me, “one day Frank woke up and the universe ended”

I’m like a damsel in distress

Today I’m listening to hip-hop and wondering what happened to my enthusiasm. Am I really so shallow as to be wiped out merely from a fruitless train trapped day? If I could speak french, I would call this ennui. I woke up this morning swathed in a grubby cloud of apathy. Yesterday I felt like looking up and pounding on the ice which was obviously keeping me trapped under the water in another world. Today is like the hang-over. Wretched bodied tiresome breathing. I think I need people. I think I need friends. I want to shoot something enough so that it can’t run faster than me when I go to claw out the carotids. There’s a city up the way with art spectacular with no-one to share it with. Somehow, it’s crippling.

I’d like to apologize for what I am about to share. Especially for the synths. For the chimes as well, though less so. I don’t know who the creators are or if they should be punished or not. There’s something compelling about this track. It’s like a hippie car crash, the post-punk destiny for the those who believe in scented coloured candles. Perhaps it’s only worth an entire listen through to those with the right sort of sharp edged humour. I don’t know. Tell me what your thoughts are.