Last night sucked big time. Too much time spent with too many people. To form a stereotype around someone based on the sandwich they get is not only pathetic, but scary.
Got the hell out of there and went for a run. Needed it. Monday should be interesting. At least I'll be driving all day. And night. No more bros. No more faux-punkers. No more fucking college girls. No more indy kids. After the 26th all I'll have to deal with are people looking to get their kitchens and bathrooms on. Hoo-fuck-ray for that. Take your sandals and Ping hat somewhere else, bra.
- Much Later -
Talked with Christy for a while. It's good to hear her voice, but I still miss her like crazy. I've been feeling really weird these last few days. The workouts keep my mind focused, but only at that time. I couldn't even get to sleep at 4:30 this morning. I was woken up and I was wide awake - twitchy even. Kept thinking about somebody playing punk rock bass. At least I wasn't seeing things like I used to. I feel disciplined in a certain respect. Hopefully that will find its way into my creative process. I need to get on the ball, as it were. Get fucking hostile about achieving. Constant like a Mission of Burma song. Boom, boom. Bang. Scree.
Maybe I should stop reading this Rollins book. I seem to be angrier these days. Can I blame him for this? No. I may just be a miserable bastard. Nope. Not a conclusion. I am in love. I have a future. I pity those who can't see the love, the future, or the music in life. I would have felt much sorrier for those dumb bastards the other day if my self control wasn't almost Catholic. Along Mulberry, there were about three or five sorry looking mother fuckers displaying signs for all the new students and parents to see. Two are fresh in my mind: "She'll Call Me Daddy Tonight!" and "Freshman Girls Drop-Off Here!" I almost pulled over and ruined these guys' day. As Lenny Bruce just said, 'It's a drag, man.' Fuck those stupid cunts. They'll wind up hollow and miserable in their lives. Success isn't an easy target. Aesthetic=pathetic.
Goddammit, I'm rhyming again. I'm gonna rape this day.
1 comment:
Hey, I'm one of those indie kids, asshole. Mission of Burma kicks so much ass. I just got into Husker Du's Zen Arcade recently as well. Good shizzle. Anyway... yeah those bro's can be huge dickheads. I will dearly keep the image of you getting out of your car with your JJ's uniform and kicking their asses on the clock, even if it remains an imaginary event.
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