a change is gonna come. is a change gonna come?
maybe it's post-anti-climatic-gig syndrome.
maybe my receding hairline is catching up with me.
writing this here is pathetic.
shanghai still pending approval.
i am genuinely afraid of getting roasted there as an utterly incompetent prick.
i am creatively and motivationally drained and fuck-dry.
optimism is a practice that takes a lot of effort.
the only positivity i can take seems to come from the 60s.
the unification spectacle achieves is nothing more than a universal language of separation.
im prioritising things to be important because that seems to be the way it should be.
i just need that bloody something and i have no idea what.
i have no idea what im blabbering about.
the cinema must be destroyed.
for some reason, getting a tattoo seems to be the answer to solve everything.
there is a strong urge nowadays to have to validate my childhood.
it's like puking internally and you have no way to get all the puke out.
i feel like wearing a different toy mask everyday to school.
there no longer seems to be anyone or anything to look up to.
no minority revolts, no inspirational struggles,
no honest music that doesnt dwell in excesses nor requires the need to be "genre-nised",
no semblance of a way to live life that isnt just for the sake of living life.
no martin luther king, no sense of wonder,
no particle of life that isnt tainted by trends, morals and the damning judgment of taste.
and even where that might exist, ill need a plane and a truckload of guts.
it's not nearly as fun anymore.
i need that extra token.
shit man. shit.