Friday, July 04, 2003
I finally finished Stone Junction, and now am in the middle of reading Middlemarch, and I want someone to be my Holden Caufield or Daniel Pearse or Andy Warhol or maybe even just someone who is good so I can play Edie Sedgwick or Annabelle Lee or erm, his mother. That's not in proper order. Or, not in respective order. Or, not respectively. But that sounded odd. I also want a soft tabby cat to stroke until I set his fur on fire with friction and next week to come so I can go lounge around in bikinis and make my mother take vanity shots.Oh, also, I liked Stone Junction. It was good. For some reason I became very aroused when the passages about vanishing and bombs came up, and generally anytime Daniel was doing anything "masterful", and I'm not sure what that means.
I've taken to carrying my extracted bottom-left wisdom tooth around the house and I could attribute it to my fascination with the dark arts and the goth culture if I was, but I'm not and this is one of the few actions for which I honestly cannot fathom a possible motivation.
I used to have so many things to say and now I don't anymore, and I'm not sure if that's due to my observational skills being enervated or my values having been changed.
I spend too much time daydreaming, and I want to be someone with her head up in the clouds but feet firmly on the ground. If I become a stick and tree-like, then perhaps I can.
Stone Junction has got me too corny-spiritual. I need to go read something concrete to balance myself.
I think this past year I've just entirely lost the ability to be, you know, normal or social or whatever and my thoughts fly from one thing to the next and they fascinate me but my thought processes are usually too weird or random for other people and I keep coming up with such weird analogies that only make sense to me, and I also discovered a new liking for run-on sentences. Like, I keep wondering if it would be possible to stick my wisdom tooth back into its slot in my gums, next to my fourth molar, and what that would feel like, and imagining it, and I don't know if most people are grossed out by that, which I think they are judging from my mother's and friends' reactions, and I keep talking about things that no one understands, and I spend so much time thinking about *nothing* that I have actually considered the possibility that I've become a master at meditating and emptying my mind without meaning to, but I don't know exactly what I'm doing.
Again, I take my readings to heart.
Also, I write bad poetry.
posted by styrene at 8:14 AM-comment?
