Sometimes when things are too much, I listen to Glenn Gould. I don’t listen to the piano as much as the sounds he makes when he plays – his humming, his feet tapping, the creaking of his bench, or just an oddly placed echo. It’s strangely comforting to me, especially after a night of interrupted sleep as my morning is filled with high-pitched whine of a belt sander.
I’m beginning to feel as though there is no way out of living some sort of hellish suburban dad lifestyle for the rest of my days (or at least for the next ~25ish years – I don’t have high expectations). I’m with someone that I trust, but that I increasingly can no longer stand – I don’t think that’s going to change, I don’t see myself going anywhere. I can’t leave her alone to her craziness like that – and although life will probably never be thrilling or truly exciting, at least things won’t be awful, and I can check off some items on the list – school, career, family – that’s something, I think.
As substances begin to retreat from the picture as I age, I imagine that pharmacotherapy should hopefully fill that gap. So, as I make plans to spend the rest of my life aspiring to mediocrity in this asshole of a midwest college town, I can be sure that my eroding sanity won’t be protected by the comfort of anything besides scotch – so I guess things aren’t that bad in the imbibing regard. I don’t know why I do this or why I’m here anymore, but I can’t seem to find a compelling reason not to do it, which seems to be good enough for now. That thought is pr
At this point, she came in and we argued heatedly for a while. I’m beginning to lose hope. At least my parents bought plane tickets to stay with us and see our happy family soon. I really hate my life sometimes.
(via g-anjagoddess)
parisiansunrisemoroccanmoonlight:
Jean-Michel Basquiat 1986 shot by Ricky Powell
Had a very interesting conversation about Basquiat today with a Tattoo artist… He recognized the Basquiat painting i have on my arm
He knows people who knew him, he just kept saying how his heart was just so big and how much love he had in him.. Fame was the worst thing that could have happened to him.
Made me love him even more
True master of the arts
Found these cards.
Frowned.
Fixed them.
Smiled.
Geekery prevails!
i want to frame these and put them on the wall.
I’ve forgotten magic. I was lying in the sunlight briefly this morning. I was reading an article about an old man who recorded the weather for almost three times the duration that I have expended CO2, and he wrote a book about his experience – Wind on the Fish’s Tail. Something about that title – even though it was so antiquated sounding and probably simply alluding to either a weathervane or a turn of phrase about a location – made me suddenly miss the feeling of magic in my life. The feelings of excitement you get when something unexplainable happens and you have no desire to determine its source. I’ve forgotten that. My life is a little more boringly urbane, less mysterious, and not really what I expected. I’m not sure how to fix that. I need to think up some magic in my life.
I want to tear my skin off. I don’t understand anything. All I have in my life seems to be a lot of allergies and conflict.