"my god, get away, you smell like fishheads"

i think i've said this before, but i wish i could remember what Beth Orton cds remind me of, though remind isn't quite the right word. they put me almost in a certain frame of mind, where i think if i could figure out what i'm more kindly inclined towards while in that frame of mind, i'd figure something out, or manage to get all the way into the aforementioned frame of mind. it's not quite the right soundtrack for ripping my own heart out, i've got some stuff that's considerably more than appropriate if i want to play that game, but...it's something about the years from 94-98, but not only the bad parts, which might be what's confusing me, since i don't pay a lot of attention to the good parts, 'cause i assume they were all a joke at my expense, and just because i don't know the punchline doesn't mean that somewhere, someone isn't laughing. maybe that's what's going on, i'm just still too selfconscious about being that messy. and i know i was nowhere near as messy as i could have been, but i'm almost tempted to go through my old poetry and see if i can find some sort of cipher, just to figure out if i knew what i wanted then, but i realize that way madness and other unpleasantnesses lie. but i keep finding little pieces, or getting them given to me offhandedly, and maybe i'll puzzle this out. or maybe i won't, maybe i'll just find something to make it easier to close the book for a couple more years, and reopen it again when i'm still calmer. 'cause, hell, i didn't drink this time, and i didn't drink when i found out about my teeth, and i didn't drink about my work angst, and i'm finally at a point where i can attribute light's slips of the tongue to just that, rather than some secret longing on his part for his life to have worked out different. i get better, it's just not as drastic as it once was, 'cause i've hit a shallower part of the curve.
--

"my god, get away, you smell like fishheads"

i think i've said this before, but i wish i could remember what Beth Orton cds remind me of, though remind isn't quite the right word. they put me almost in a certain frame of mind, where i think if i could figure out what i'm more kindly inclined towards while in that frame of mind, i'd figure something out, or manage to get all the way into the aforementioned frame of mind. it's not quite the right soundtrack for ripping my own heart out, i've got some stuff that's considerably more than appropriate if i want to play that game, but...it's something about the years from 94-98, but not only the bad parts, which might be what's confusing me, since i don't pay a lot of attention to the good parts, 'cause i assume they were all a joke at my expense, and just because i don't know the punchline doesn't mean that somewhere, someone isn't laughing. maybe that's what's going on, i'm just still too selfconscious about being that messy. and i know i was nowhere near as messy as i could have been, but i'm almost tempted to go through my old poetry and see if i can find some sort of cipher, just to figure out if i knew what i wanted then, but i realize that way madness and other unpleasantnesses lie. but i keep finding little pieces, or getting them given to me offhandedly, and maybe i'll puzzle this out. or maybe i won't, maybe i'll just find something to make it easier to close the book for a couple more years, and reopen it again when i'm still calmer. 'cause, hell, i didn't drink this time, and i didn't drink when i found out about my teeth, and i didn't drink about my work angst, and i'm finally at a point where i can attribute light's slips of the tongue to just that, rather than some secret longing on his part for his life to have worked out different. i get better, it's just not as drastic as it once was, 'cause i've hit a shallower part of the curve.
--

(no subject)

there is a strong chance light and i (and lyric) will be venturing to the decordova on saturday.
make me feel loved and clamor for my attention if/when i'm on the eastern end of the state.
or, if you live somewhere else, make me feel loved and say you'd totally want to see me if i was there. (which isn't so much a plea for attention from everyone, as it is me feeling exclusionary by saying only eastern mass people can clamor. not that attention wouldn't be nice.)

(no subject)

there is a strong chance light and i (and lyric) will be venturing to the decordova on saturday.
make me feel loved and clamor for my attention if/when i'm on the eastern end of the state.
or, if you live somewhere else, make me feel loved and say you'd totally want to see me if i was there. (which isn't so much a plea for attention from everyone, as it is me feeling exclusionary by saying only eastern mass people can clamor. not that attention wouldn't be nice.)