Thursday, June 19, 2008

It's not bad when I'm laughing

There must be something to say about this need to collapse even when. Even when it gets me nowhere but the next collapse.

There must be something to say about 13 hours in bed that I thought maybe gave me something, something I needed, except that in-between period when I was planning out I don't know how many essays on childhood and privilege and abuse and desire and longing, planning them out detail by detail in bed when I was trying to sleep no stop, stop planning. Sleep.

Stop. There must be something to say about sleep. There must be something.

Maybe I'll talk about this music, the way the metal guitar blends with soft vocal static drum static melody building into fence shaking then everything at once I think it's the guitar that makes it sad. I don't generally like guitar.

No, it's all sad -- the tinny keyboard blending into some kind of wind behind the voice, the stretching blending scratching bending I used to listen to music like this all the time because it felt like what I felt like. Different kinds of things, but mostly they felt like this. Now it's different: I like music to take me out of how I'm feeling, yes give me the beat maybe I can become that.

I don't like it when I get so worn out -- all I did was cook, go out to get a haircut, go to Haight Street to look for music, come back home, listen to the music and this was the best this sadness. Somewhere on Haight Street I crashed, actually that always happens on Haight Street, even though I stopped to get fresh spring rolls the only thing on the menu that I can eat without MSG I almost ate the sauce but then I didn't.

I don't know what I'm allergic to today, the way the right side of my tongue feels raw maybe it was one of my supplements. I call Gina and wait, there was something I wanted to say, something I wanted, something -- Gina says you're laughing because it's so bad. But I like laughing, it's not bad when I'm laughing.

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