Home Time... Good Girls Win

01/07/2005

Just started listening to the new Handsome Boy Modeling School joint-- pretty good shit.
The thing is that nobody knows themselves. Every day we go through, we're all just guessing. We live every movie we've ever seen, and the world has gone crazy. Like some kind of surreal Crayola crayon box.

I look at who my president is; I look at what purports to be Democracy; I think to myself that these things can't be real. When M says... "It's all going to be privatized; schools, prisons, everything owned by a corporation; it'd be just like all the futuristic movies..." and I'm sure that it will and everything they say is simultaneously true and false like a wacky truth or dare escapade...

These are the days I live in. And this is the history of the moment. Sometimes I wonder if I ever have a child (but this is a vague and extremely distant vision) if that child will look back at my eras the way I look to my mothers: the fifties, where ambiguous memories are best; the sixties, where everything changed rapidly and with/out reason; the seventies, where she found her truths and followed through; the eighties, where everything lifelike rioted again; the nineties, dealing with the four to ten of us... the 00's, building houses...

I got no time to get to where I don't need to be... Oh, please, just let me just break down.. I need this, oh dream, to break down...let me please break down...

M says it's good for Jack Johnson to break out of the mainstream. So far on the first listen through I'm all for good ole Handsome Boy Modeling School.

I should probably go. I'm clacking away on a friend's computer. We moved; we live below M & L now. Our best friends are our neighbors. We all have keys. It's actually a pretty good deal; so far.

Maybe one of these days I'll post something in regards to fiction that I write... whatever. I'm being asked what I'm doing. That's never a good sign.


Peace out...