laughing at tragedies and crying at comedies
No one should really read this, it's debatable in a dull way. This Cat Power and Neutral Milk Hotel stuff affect me in ways I'm not sure I care to be sharing, but I haven't got anything to say and I'm going to just be silent for all eternity if I don't ramble about nonsense for 20 minutes now. It's devastating.
Moved in, melting down into cushions. Should be a good time. I've been sort of slack, letting things happen. Also, I've been accused of being Post modern.
"It's the combination of narcissism and nihilism that really defines postmodernism," Al Gore
Etc.
Oh, I have to fill out this job application to "Eileen's at The Chimneys" which is this bakery slash coffee bar slash place that sells pretentious sandwiches. Tyler and Savannah both work there and have told the manager impressive things about me that I probably won't be able to live up to so I'm taking my time filling it out. So that I have time to convince myself it's not really necessary to do it at all, and I can spill some things on it and scratch stuff out so that it isn't presentable anyway. Except I'll like it there. Problem is they want someone who'll enjoy interacting with customers. I'm practically a Marilyn Monroe. Meaning I offer special services to politicians and playwrights, I think.
Steven said he saw Little Miss Sunshine and that I ought to see it. I told him I wouldn't just cause he was telling me to. Only now I want to and probably will. That'll get him.
Kayla told me I had to date her best friend Nick who I met last year. Apparently he told her a lot of positive things about me. Then he ran off to Paris for the semester.
She also says that Marie and I are dating despite the existence of Paul. She's not to be trusted.
At some point since I've been back here I've gotten engaged to at least two more people, but luckily not the 6'6" basketball players who spouted some pretty impressive tripe to me and Kayla for a good 15 minutes. They were very goal oriented.
I still haven't heard the Jesus and Mary Chain, which John told me to listen to last year when we got into our Pixies obsessed conversation. They're responsible for that song Head On. Or irresponsible.
And he went New Zealand for the semester.
Ned called me 5 times yesterday, for drinks with him and his girlfriend. My phone was off, so there were a lot of messages. I think he wanted me there to keep Tyler from pissing everyone else off slash depressing them as much as he already did me. That pansy boy got himself a motorcycle to help him get over the cocaine addict that dumped him for the third time in August.
Ridiculous. Just make him go away.
I've been at Paul and Marie's apartment all weekend drinking tea and helping Trevor plan his meals. We went out to one of the stupid parties that Paul likes. Tried to avoid associating with the egotistical loudmouth asshats. Impossible. Was alright anyway. Played a card game Kayla invented when she was trying to distract a room of people from her boyfriend. Each of us had a designated face card, I was queen of course said Marie. Then someone would ask a "Who's most likely to..?" question. I'm most likely to die of overdose (None of the others are quite as stupid as me). There were other questions that were better I just can't think of them right now because I'm in a frustratingly discontented state that amounts to a lot of mush.
Nick Drake died at 26, cause he was eccentric. Screw dying at 27 like Jimi, Jim, Janis, and Kurt.
Nothing serious, I just can't break the cycle. I'll appreciate it more when I'm older, and everything is still the same.
I could be reading about modernity and urbanization, but then I'd feel obligated to take off these headphones and they are way too comfortable.
On a lighter note, I'm on fire, but not a piece of paper. This explains so much.
Moved in, melting down into cushions. Should be a good time. I've been sort of slack, letting things happen. Also, I've been accused of being Post modern.
"It's the combination of narcissism and nihilism that really defines postmodernism," Al Gore
Etc.
Oh, I have to fill out this job application to "Eileen's at The Chimneys" which is this bakery slash coffee bar slash place that sells pretentious sandwiches. Tyler and Savannah both work there and have told the manager impressive things about me that I probably won't be able to live up to so I'm taking my time filling it out. So that I have time to convince myself it's not really necessary to do it at all, and I can spill some things on it and scratch stuff out so that it isn't presentable anyway. Except I'll like it there. Problem is they want someone who'll enjoy interacting with customers. I'm practically a Marilyn Monroe. Meaning I offer special services to politicians and playwrights, I think.
Steven said he saw Little Miss Sunshine and that I ought to see it. I told him I wouldn't just cause he was telling me to. Only now I want to and probably will. That'll get him.
Kayla told me I had to date her best friend Nick who I met last year. Apparently he told her a lot of positive things about me. Then he ran off to Paris for the semester.
She also says that Marie and I are dating despite the existence of Paul. She's not to be trusted.
At some point since I've been back here I've gotten engaged to at least two more people, but luckily not the 6'6" basketball players who spouted some pretty impressive tripe to me and Kayla for a good 15 minutes. They were very goal oriented.
I still haven't heard the Jesus and Mary Chain, which John told me to listen to last year when we got into our Pixies obsessed conversation. They're responsible for that song Head On. Or irresponsible.
And he went New Zealand for the semester.
Ned called me 5 times yesterday, for drinks with him and his girlfriend. My phone was off, so there were a lot of messages. I think he wanted me there to keep Tyler from pissing everyone else off slash depressing them as much as he already did me. That pansy boy got himself a motorcycle to help him get over the cocaine addict that dumped him for the third time in August.
Ridiculous. Just make him go away.
I've been at Paul and Marie's apartment all weekend drinking tea and helping Trevor plan his meals. We went out to one of the stupid parties that Paul likes. Tried to avoid associating with the egotistical loudmouth asshats. Impossible. Was alright anyway. Played a card game Kayla invented when she was trying to distract a room of people from her boyfriend. Each of us had a designated face card, I was queen of course said Marie. Then someone would ask a "Who's most likely to..?" question. I'm most likely to die of overdose (None of the others are quite as stupid as me). There were other questions that were better I just can't think of them right now because I'm in a frustratingly discontented state that amounts to a lot of mush.
Nick Drake died at 26, cause he was eccentric. Screw dying at 27 like Jimi, Jim, Janis, and Kurt.
Nothing serious, I just can't break the cycle. I'll appreciate it more when I'm older, and everything is still the same.
I could be reading about modernity and urbanization, but then I'd feel obligated to take off these headphones and they are way too comfortable.
On a lighter note, I'm on fire, but not a piece of paper. This explains so much.