Thursday, February 28, 2002

she said that i have a mouth but no knowledge. but she said lots of things.

i'm listening to common's like water for chocolate right now and not really having a linear stream of thoughts to be able to write this. i keep singing lyrics amazed at how awesome an album this is, wondering why i haven't listened to it in probably about a year. wondering why you're not listening to it right now. dude, why isn't the shit blaring out of loudspeakers on every street corner? world peace is good jams blaring on every street. george clinton, i'm just starting to understand what you meant by "one nation under a groove." but, i'll see that line and raise you one - how bout one planet under a groove? a little funk to serve as the soundtrack to our day to day existence.

but then again, maybe not. someone with lame taste might be put in charge of the music selection. it could be whole days of that bad music you hear whenever you're put on hold on the phone. it could be a lifetime of bad dentist's office music. well, i guess the desire to have music playing wherever you go is why they made walkmans - maybe i need to invest in one.

today i woke up at eleven, and thought that i would take the bus down to old town. my car is no longer legally driveable - it's a major headache that i don't want to talk about, but basically i am carless, which is fine in sarasota and i guess ten million other places, but cars are an essential in northern virginia, the definiton of sprawl. road planners didn't think that there might actually be pedestrians, and so sidewalks are sporadic on major roads, and just ridiculous. but anyways, i can catch the bus about a couple blocks from my house. this working in eastern market thing may get very unbearable, taking a bus and the metro seems a little insane to get to a seven dollar an hour job. i should have taken that job at dale photo and i could have just biked to work. oh well, we'll see how bad (or how good) it actually is tomorrow when i have to go to work.

today, i don't even know what i did. it is now one o clock in the morning, and god damn, does anyone else think time is flying. for motherfucking sake, it is appearantly febuary 28, how the hell did that happen? what happened to january? i planned on reading all day, but did not read at all really.

damn, listen to this nonsense - okay first, let me explain the abrupt switch that just occured. i am grade a fucked up on caffeine and all over the map right now. i made a coffee conconction at about six tonight with four shots of espresso in it, and a bunch of charger chai, and chocolate sauce. and it was so mmm mmm good, but my nerves are seriously pulsing, and since the consumption of that drink, i have gone through probably the entire spectrum of human emotions - getting giddy, happy, depressed, sad, mad, horny, agitated, bored - you name it, i have felt it in these last six or so hours.

okay, let's get back to the nonsense that you need to listen to: so our cable was all fucked up for about two weeks and the stations were all mixed up, and we weren't getting like half the stations (most importantly, though, mtv). so, i called the cable company and had them talk me through fixing the problem with the remote and i was so excited that i could get it fixed. (oh, the cable company is one such place where you hear crappy music when you're put on hold.) this was yesterday that i fixed it, and at ten, i turned to mtv, so so excited to see the new episode of real world. but motherfucking guess what? it was a goddamn repeat - the first episode that they have already showed a million and three times. so i try turning to hbo to see if there's any good movies on, and hbo was blocked. as was cinemax, showtime, and the movie channel. what the hell? i was so mad that i had called to fix the cable, because i think we had been getting the premium channels for free for the past few months, but i don't know, i need to ask my mom about it, and see if i really did fuck up our getting free stations or if we really are supposed to have them. but this means no late night cinemax movies to serve as masturbation fodder.

coffee can serve as a laxative, in case you didn't know. also assuming that you cared about bowel movements. or as bonnie once said to my utter confusion: b-m. about an hour after drinking the... duh, drink, i kept on having to poop. and how many times a day do you poop? nora once told me i was weird for pooping everyday, and she said that she poops once every couple of days and i thought she was lying, but now i don't know. everyone else poops a few times a day, right?

between my squats on the toilet, i ran around the house cleaning, and ran up to my room to do something. i quickly became distracted listening to how loud the second hand is on my clock, and starting reading my notebook which i saw on the floor. and wrote this, real freaked out and anxious, so pardon the even badder writing:

the time is moving, that second hand is out of control, loud planes landing and taking off at national - they're moving and so are all the people inside the airport, running to their gates, being asked to take their shoes off, the people on the tv move so fast, branches outside moving because the wind is moving -- all of which, making me painfully aware of my stationary status. i'm the motherfucking stationary bike and the world is the slightly overweight middle-aged woman riding me, moving, doing things, fucking people while i sit here and do jack all shit.

being thrown into an existential crisis everytime i hear the second hand of my alarm clock tick tick tick, you would think that i would just splurge on a fucking digital alarm clock the next time i went to wal-mart. but when i go to wal-mart, it's all about happy yellow smiling faces. the prices are rolling back, not spiraling forward making me fear the progress of time, and so i am happy and not neurotic there and forget about such things that would improve my life like digital alarm clocks.


[and okay, this is where the writing goes from bad to worse, so for those of you who have made it this far down, be ready to cringe]
blood guts and glory
this is a revolution of love that we are calling for. There are of course those Fannons that will tell us that this type of revolution is one of a people that have been mystified into accepting their oppresion, but fuck that. we know. we know better. we know ourselves. we know that love is what we desire. recieving it, is radiating it. jesus tried to tell us this, but the message got diluted along the way by mark and too many others. but yeah, love. that's what its all about. life is too everything for anything other than love. but that's not to say that some people aren't deserving off a knee to the groin, nor to say that we shouldn't give it to them. all that is okay, as long as our mind is not also in a state of raised fists. we must remain aware that we are the ones. the many loving each other - loving ourselves - loving life. i mean, is there really anything else when it comes down to it?


What'd I come up here for?, I ask myself forgetting my mission somewhere along the journey. And then I remember why I came here and it is so clear and meaningful that I wonder what else I would possibly have thought I came here to do. Ah, now I remember, I exclaim, releasing all the self-doubt and feelings of mental impotence created by my inability to remember what I walked a short twenty feet to do - I came upstairs to fold my fucking clothes. Ha! What else? And the world was in perfect harmony - my ego was assuaged about its fears, and i knew what my purpose was - what i came to do.

i then folded my clothes, and continued on with my spastic behavior. my mom cam home at about nine from her business trip to florida, and i was so glad that another human was in the house with me. my mommy was home. i then took her car and sped to olsson's before they closed at ten to purchase mcsweeney's 7. so so excited about holding the new issue in my hands, so ready to rush home and read it. i rushed home and was still too hyped-up to actually read. so, i watched the grammys. andre 3000 is so the coolest guy in the world. outkast, nelly furtado, india arie, and al fucking green performed, all of whom entertained my hyped up self immensely. i then was a little bit calmer and read jt leroy's "harold's end," and it was a fun read and all, but nothing that i considered good writing. not even close. i don't understand why he is such a literary darling - all he ever does is talk about being a male prostitute. it's so gimmicky and just pure shock value - there's nothing stellar about the writing at all. grr. but i read his story first just because i knew it would be a quick read - one that i could make it through being super hyper.

and goddamn, i really meant to go jogging tonight, but it is now two o'clock, and i really hate jogging this late at night, and dude i need to fall asleep so i can wake up for bus metro work.

and common is saying to me; to you; to us that he finds "heaven in this music and god." and yeah, i think that's where i find it, too.

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