My days are strange, hyperspeed and not unlike the the scenes in Baraka where they set cameras out in the desert or the oceanic vaults of someplace I doubt I will ever see with my own eyes - could be Russia, could be under a bridge in CinCin - and it takes a picture/1 frame every 4 minutes and so when played back, you see the spectrum of the whole super saturated 72mm day, all nature folly and work-of-god beautiful, in the span of three whole minutes. It goes by as if greased. I feel pedestrian in the world.
Last night, at midnight, I was remebering I have to move this week ( next door, so no need to pack I say, not really...) - I got in the car to scavenge for cardboard boxes. Instead, I found nine milk crates, behind ghetto grocery marts and wine resturaunts and I stole them all. All that I saw. The classic rock station started a three hour commercial free block, with songs selected by a DJ who sounds like he came out of the birth canal with a lit Silk Cut in his mouth already. He played Springsteen's "Thunder Road", meanwhile, I was driving through my favorite part of town, which is all just low-storied industrial buildings. Family businesses all, recycling, bottling, imports, fish, gourmet pretzels, grommets. Some places looking like Beirut, dead - ghosted windows, appliance parts and silos no one has used since 1970, the whole bit. He played "Thunder Road" and I almost cried.
The night before last, both Eddie Murphy and Conor Oberst in my dream. Conor had a thing for asian women, but also, was obssessed with me and that I wouldn't get drunk with him. Eddie Murphy was essentially, reprising his role in Coming To America. I did not cry then, either.
http://www.urbanhonking.com/cowboyz/
This is the blogging website of Julianne Shepherd, who is one of the 40-11 people who are my freinds that I am also totally and completely afawned by. I just made up that word, which is why you don't recognize it. Afawned is like, such a fawning fandom that you are a twitter, a-flutter, asunder from yrself, you are a go-go mush. Like being afawned is like you have almost OD'd from adoration. I am in love with all my friends, and Julianne is right at the top, like a Christmas Angel.
Also, when you are talking to people in England on the phone, do you wind up say "Cheers" at the end of conversations back to them? I did that all morning and felt like an ass.
from an email I wrote to somebody:
>I saw Atmosphere last night -- the man is all
> contradictions, and that's speaking/ feeling like someone who can see-thorugh his> mechanisms for engaging with teenagers who yell hell yes when he
> screams "is hip hop your life?" and points the mic at the audience. I
> really liked watching him because I really ENJOY people who enjoy
> being famous - being undergroundica, everyone acts like burdgeoning
> fame is like, the trillion-ton snail shell they drag around... I
> really love famousish people who just get in there and roll around in
> it. I felt like with our boy Slug, he goes from like real-real,
> visceral and confused as any human, to like Steve Perry with a
> crip-walk -- "Don't Stop Believing, dog!". TOTALLY COMPELLING!
>He is totally new school
> emo -- he is more Jeff from Thursday, but with the calculation of the
> careerist ( Thrsday is more "this is all an accident, man!",) --
> someone who knows real fandom and that kids just want to beleive,
> they want to fucking connect, they like it when he's rugged, they
> like it when he's sensitive. Al pointed out that last night, he
> pulled a girl out from the crowd who was getting crushed, and passed
> her to the tour manager to take care of and all that, but walked
> mostly offstage -- and was still speaking into the mic "Take care of
> her man, get her some water, let her rest" - so we all knew. PEOPLE
> CLAPPED FOR HIM.
> But, the kids, 1200 down-for-(dorm)life, ain't nothin but a g
> thang, who are kicking pooka-shell rather than dookey rope THEY KNEW
> EVERY WORD. It really meant something to them. They yelled
> on cue every time. He's Conor Oberst temprement and all of hip hop's
> big-dick macheesmo, but no guns. He's " 21 Questions" with no love to
> access. And he throws it around in this really tantalizing, tv drama
> way. Plus, all the ladies love a thug.