The Hipster Brigade
Wednesday, March 19, 2003
 
Wake Up Call

do you ever get to where you only want to listen to one song or one album over and over and repeat? maybe it's just one band. or you only want to talk to one person and in The World Since 1914 you realize you are doing the sexual frustration shakeshakeshake of your leg and thinking about that person and you just missed a huge important part about how the Holocaust started and now you are fucked for the midterm and you think that for about ten more seconds than do it all over again.

i'm really bad at listening to new music lately. all i want to do is listen to ryan adams be country and emo at the same time and how he wins the heart of me every single word and than i think how stupid that i could be addicted to something so out of character. i love obsessions.

i'm having one of those moments when nothing and everything is making sense and i don't want to think about it too much becuase i'm afraid if i do i'll think it away and i don't want that to happen. i want things to work and make sense and not leave me and make me all sad again. i don't feel that comfort in sadness anymore that i used to.

parmesian (sp) is some damn good cheese but all my papers have grease stains and they don't like it and i certainly don't as well, but that cheese i will do anything. i've eaten nothing but huge amounts of salad for the last 3 days and i like it a lot. i can survive on one meal a day. i think it scares me because i don't eat like i should and i don't sleep as i should and i don't think like i should but in the end it doesn't really matter and as long as i'm not on my deathbed i do a lot of stuff that's not too good for the ole body. ole is a silly word and it should be obsolete. your store does not look any older with that 'ole up there you know. it just doesn't. take it down and get a real sign.

i think i like sad music better than any other kind. it sucks me up in the middle and carries me away into some sort of comfort. the land of denial my pretties. it cradles me with it's slow strumming guitars and the lyrics fade in and out as all i can hear is one single voice carrying me off and it's too late. I.AM.THERE. trapped amongst dead and dying foliage on the front porch of every grandmother in america and i'm sitting in that big rocking swing crying and i can't stop and i don't want to. how can someone so happy cry so much? i think the tears make me realize i'm still alive inside and not just one big puff of hot air.
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