well. here i am. wasted as usual. what's the frequency? who knows, except I don't. I don't know anything except this keyboard is too hard to type on and I'm too drunk on highballs/whiskey to care. What's the point of it all? Except I'm too young for life in this world, I don't live like I'm young anymore, except I live like I'm too young. I don't like modern dance music, if that's what they even call it. Hollywood calls out to me like it calls all sad, insecure, creative, neurotic people.... Hellos, hollywood friends, I miss you and I miss my dreams, they are about the same thing these days...
There is a feeling, I can't quite tap into it, but it's there, hiding amongst the brain matter of the 20something generation, it's a real thing, it's a truth, that this thing, that sees beauty, it sees beyond the empty shell of millennial life, it knows that there are things worth loving, things worth believing, even if these things are nothing more than a flicker of quicksilver light, they are things more believable, more real than saturday night suburban bars, more true than pulsating nonsense -- I have seen the end of days and they are less populated than you would believe. Not everybody makes it to the end. If only a diner were a sacred place, we would all end up there by 4 am.
I see the eternal diner in florescent bursts, it is a marvel. I see all the books I should have read. I see the music enlightenment, but sadly nobody else hears the tune. I wish you could laugh along with me at the futility. I laugh too much. I laugh at everything and all things, I'm never serious except when I am and it's not appropriate. I don't fit in.
That's the last word, basically. I don't fit it. I've never fit in, I never will, just stop trying and all will be well. There is a hole in the world and that whole is filled with shit, and I can't remember anything but it, nothing but empty eyes, empty mouths, empty heads, silly unchallenged dumbass twits, I guess I'm a snob afterall. Ah well, what the hell, I never pretended to be anything but a bitch. Embrace it, I guess.
There are two truths I know: 1. Rock & Roll is better when it's shit and 2. Regular people are boring.
Bring on the misanthropy.