I’m stuck in Buffalo with this girl who “just really, like, thinks my shoes are, like, totally chill” and could “totally smoke some, like, marijuana” before boarding. Get me the fuck out of New York and back into Michigan. Please.
Light listening and visual stimulation to completely focus on writing my last couple of papers.
Intro - The XX
Necessary tuneage for pilgrimages on and off trains and across bridges and back again. Alcohol and cigarettes. It’s all a scene. Existentialist crises are normal; there are soothsayers to help you out here.
Derek - Animal Collective
Just wait for this shit to kick in, then try to say you don’t like this song.
There will be hesitation on that fucking train. We’ll see. Reinterpretations are necessary. Eye exams are necessary. Shit like that is rolling around in my head.
Fifteen pages tonight. Cocaine sprinkled and shit (just kidding? I’ll tell you the story later, remind me) between the lines of dialogue.
I want to confront the ability of the human mind through art. I want to interpret the museum as a whole body experience. You should sit in the dirt and figure out when exactly Picasso decided that sketches of the female form was archaic and cubism was the future. We’re predicting the future here. This museum is a place, a tribal temple of spirit, with Mondrian nailed to trees. Pollack is placed on the forest bed, looking through the canopy of the trees. Duchamp is everywhere.An excerpt from my final essay for class/I’m losing my mind with sentence fragments and abstractions.
I have my fits but feeling is good.
I’m just so sick of pedants and conceited little tearer-downers I could scream.Franny & Zooey
