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Jul. 18th, 2010 06:08 amGoing through pictures of places I never saw. It's funny how easy it is to convince yourself that you belong.
Chicago today. Seattle tomorrow. Philly in two weeks. Can't wait.
--
I should go to sleep. Too worked up after Rocky Horror and getting into a shouting argument with some racist asshole on my ride home. This place is too good to me. Friends, fun, good food, and... what else starts with a F? No, none of that. Get your mind out of the gutter. Funyuns? Freaks? Flatulence? Eh, whatever.
I've been having weird dreams recently. I hope they don't mean anything. If they do, I'm fucked. Like too many songs going through my head, all jumbled up like lyrics tripping over each other. I haven't reached the point where I start getting my mind confused with my reality. That's always rough. More just the feeling of fantasy being on the tip of my tongue. I can't complain, really. Who needs drugs when you have an overactive subconscious?
On my way up to Rocky I was singing Violent Femmes and World Inferno. The way home was Big Black, Flock of Seagulls, and some Israeli kid songs. Also Neutral Milk Hotel, cause I'm hip enough to like weird Christian music. Maybe the douchebag who I was arguing with was on to something when he called me a hipster. Truth.
Parting thought: I need more debauchery in my life. Tried to make it happen and it didn't work. Nuts to you, life. I'll win yet, you just wait.
Chicago today. Seattle tomorrow. Philly in two weeks. Can't wait.
--
I should go to sleep. Too worked up after Rocky Horror and getting into a shouting argument with some racist asshole on my ride home. This place is too good to me. Friends, fun, good food, and... what else starts with a F? No, none of that. Get your mind out of the gutter. Funyuns? Freaks? Flatulence? Eh, whatever.
I've been having weird dreams recently. I hope they don't mean anything. If they do, I'm fucked. Like too many songs going through my head, all jumbled up like lyrics tripping over each other. I haven't reached the point where I start getting my mind confused with my reality. That's always rough. More just the feeling of fantasy being on the tip of my tongue. I can't complain, really. Who needs drugs when you have an overactive subconscious?
On my way up to Rocky I was singing Violent Femmes and World Inferno. The way home was Big Black, Flock of Seagulls, and some Israeli kid songs. Also Neutral Milk Hotel, cause I'm hip enough to like weird Christian music. Maybe the douchebag who I was arguing with was on to something when he called me a hipster. Truth.
Parting thought: I need more debauchery in my life. Tried to make it happen and it didn't work. Nuts to you, life. I'll win yet, you just wait.
