Thursday, January 17, 2002

"here is no why"

just now, i decided to hunt for my dookie album, but while hunting came across the mellon collie album, and let out a big sigh so excited to encounter some friend from high school at the grocery store. wow, i haven't seen you in so long! how are things going? cool, i like the hair.

i whipped out disc one and fucked the computer with it, sliding billy's big cock into the moist, wet, waiting lips of the cd drive. and the computer moaned and as soon as i heard those opening piano chords, so did i. moaning, fuck yeah, whoo!! billy it has been far too long. the album is so so gorgeous, so much more so than i even think i realized in early high school.

billy corgan was one of my first boy crushes. now, he's seems a little too weird, the bald thing has lost its charm and now he just sort of looks like an old frumpy man. but mellon collie is still heavenly. lately i've been thinking about rock stars, and which ones i still have crushes on. many of them are holdovers from high school: 5. anthony kiedis 4. david bowie 3. tommy lee 2. bret michaels 1. dave navarro

i feel like i am not developing emotionally / intelletually / spiritually at all as of late. probably the last couple of months, i have felt this way. that i am perhaps i fear that i am ordinary, just like everyone in a process of devolution. before i thought that it was just stagnancy, but now i am pretty sure that stagnancy is death. constant movement and reaction seems like what life "is". perhaps that is too capitalist/industrialist an idea, that there needs to be constant progress and growth -- that good workers are constantly working. but, i guess i'm a bourgeois pig because i totally agree with that - that there constantly needs to be some dynamic energy. but there is none. i am idling in park, not moving in any direction. even moving in some wrong direction, like getting all excited about neo-nazism or something would be a better state to be in than my current one. like a creek can have sewage running through it and still be fine, but that's only if the creek is flowing, y'know? if the creek is not, if some fallen tree dams it up, than the creek is no longer a creek, it becomes a cesspool. just a big, stinky, stagnant pool of water that smells like shit. and that's me i guess, maybe. the spark is gone. i used to be so easily excitable, almost to the point of being a pollyanna, but lately i sleep until three, watch really crappy tv, play around online, and act so burdened when i have to read a book for my isp.

my mom came home from work tonight and asked me what i did today. i said nothing. you didn't leave the house all day? nope. are you going out tonight? nope. and that's when it hit me: what the fuck am i doing? i did not leave the house once today. i sat inside all day in various positons of repose on various pieces of furniture throughout the house. rebecca asked me if i wanted to go visit maggie ray at work. i said no. sarah called me about five times today, but thanks to caller id, i was able to be super lazy and avoid having to talk to her for hours, and invariably hang out with her. well after my mom alerted me to laziness, i was sort of regretting not doing anything with sarah or rebecca, but not even that much. i am zombie city.

when i was reading ulysses today, i came across an annotation in gifford's book that gave me pause:
9.233 (190.28). Socrates - (469-399 B.C.), the Greek teacher and philospher whose image dominates the dialogues of his student and disciple Plato. He insisted that virtue derives from knowledge and that knowledge was to be pursued through dialectic, in the tensions of dialogue among men.

so, my stagnancy can be attibuted to my lack of social interaction - my failure to engage "in the tensions of dialogue among men." but that, too, has its source - i have no desire, no motivation. to talk to people, or in the more broader sense - just no desire. and i'm remebering another billy, billie joe armstrong saying, "i've got no motivation / where is my motivation..." when i don't even feel like looking for a pair of shoes to check the mail, there is a problem. and i don't know what exactly the problem is, or how to correct it.

and for some non-sixteen-year-old-style-what's-wrong-with-me-thoughts: rebecca has decided that she is not going to go to ny. michael moore was a commentator on cnbc today and that made me happy. i saw blair witch 2 which was pretty goddamn horrible. i still have not found a place to live in ny. i am on page 255 of ulysses. tomorrow is for real going to be a marathon reading day. i masturbated on the bathroom floor this afternoon - for some reason finding comfort in sitting on the cold, one inch by one inch tiles. i drank two dr. peppers and am sort of starting to really like the taste. next thing you know, i'm going to be liking the taste of moutain dew. ish, yeah right, that will never happen. and i could say something about the weather, grounding my experiences within an environmental context, like a good writer, but i honestly have no idea what the weather was like today.

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