Plathological

small theory

Well, in any case, lacking anything, I’m unpeeling myself - it has nothing to do with numbered skin or certain practices in certain parts of Islam. The radio’s mention of superficial organ transplants doing much to raise my brows to its paradoxical phrasing, but little by way of adding or subtracting to the dried glue of my interiority. There doesn’t seem to be an expiration date. Class- as pertaining to school, not social order- is again what it once was when I first entered it – meaning: enjoyable, enriching, exciting, and, as an addition to this round proceeding my last collapse: calming. I feel strange, weird, I said to Graeme, and he asked me what I meant, placing the usual synonyms in his inquiry. No, I feel strange – normal. Fully balanced. I haven’t felt this strange since high school – and even then . . .it’s a total novelty. As in: new. As in: novella. As in: an intermediate form, between two structures – crystallized, but expanded. I’m referring to poesie, of course. That’s the loose working metaphor for my life, and it applies, much like any adhesive, connecting vulgarity of a - gladly - more metaphysical proportion. Best Before Date? No, no. Nada. May be read retrospectively, and drawn upon. The existing, knowingly prejudice Canon of my breath moving along – the stones I now let be on the beach from light to light to too light to carry.

helvetica freezing over

Hi, sorry. I'm in this publication design course and happen to know that in 2007 a documentary film about the ubiquitous typeface, Helvetica is being released, made by Gary Hustwit, the same guy who made the documentary on Wilco. I really don't know why I'm so excited about this. Because I'm really f'king excited. The typeface turns 50 next year! Oh, and the film/font also has a myspace.

There also seems to be a deep, historical reason as to why I have always been so averse to Arial.

In other news, our front door was re-keyed this afternoon because a junkie "took advantage of a tenant" and stole her keys when "she wasn't looking." This tenant not only has to pay for the front door to be re-keyed, but also for new locks and keys for all the individual suites. Nice going, Rainbow Bright. First rule of thumb, if you don't have intentions to either 1) shoot them or 2) score drugs off them because you're a desperate junkie in the making yourself, then DON'T TALK TO THE JUNKIES. They don't want any good things for you, if you've even noticed the new addition of steel muzzles on the coke dogs, you would have known as much - it's all about them.

SOUNDTRACK

So this is the survey where you turn your life into a movie soundtrack. Firstly, I have spent way too much time thinking about this. Secondly, I don’t think I took it as seriously as I could have (though I’m fairly sure I HAVE had sex to all the songs under question 9) since this has to be one of the corniest things I’ve ever done. And I can’t even remember when it was last appropriate for me to even USE the term “corny.” Thirdly, I only put Joy Division in there ONCE, though there was space for so many more Curtis songs – so, basically, every question could have been answered with a JD song, and yet . . .it was not. Please feel free to congratulate me on this account. There are a lot of "staring" songs. Do you know how hard it is to find like 6,000 "staring" songs, all for "different kinds of staring"? Very Difficult. Anyway, here are my answers in all their lameness, subject to change without further notice (they will leave you saying, "PLAY SOME SLAYYYERRRR." And me saying, "No--apparently my life's all about the staring."):

1.The opening title

B Movie – Lali Puna

2. The scene where you’re waking up to your alarm

Rifle Eyes – cLOUDDEAD

3. The scene when you’re having a steamy shower

Libertango – Grace Jones

4. The scene when you’re walking down a busy street

Are You Trying to Fall in Love - Tindersticks

5. The scene where you’re sitting in a back of a
car staring at the street lights

At Low Frequency – Tarwater

6. The scene where you stare out of your office window miserable

Micronomic – Lali Puna

or

This is the Dream of Win & Reg - Final Fantasy

7. The scene when you feel unsure about your life

No Natural Flow – ULTRA

8. The scene when you feel obsessed with someone

After Dark – Le Tigre

Or

Is this Love? – Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

9. The sex scene

Never as Tired as When I’m Waking Up – LCD Soundsystem

Or

Hot Rod – Peaches

Or

N.W.O - Ministry

10. The scene when you’re in your room and feeling
awkward to what had happened

Teenage Lust – Jesus and the Mary Chain

Or,

What Difference Does it Make - The Smiths

11. The scene when you’re walking down the street
by yourself (ode to a solitude standing)

Futurism Vs. Passeism Part II – Blonde Redhead

12. Tragic scene where a life altering event occurs

This Night Has Opened My Eyes - Pipas

or

Christian Brothers - Elliot Smith

13. Scene where you feel like you have nothing to live for

Oh Comely – Neutral Milk Hotel

14. The scene when you’re staring out of the
window in your room at night

Green Grass of Tunnel – Múm

Or

Halflife - Hinterland

16. The scene when you found out that the world
is at war (indeed, as always)

Dinner Bells – Wolf Parade

17. The scene after you get into a fight with your significant other

Love Will Tear us Apart Again – Joy Division

Or

Modern Romance – Yeah Yeah Yeahs

18. Scene where you feel alone and no one understands you

It’s Not the Worst I’ve Looked – Lali Puna (remixed from two lone swordsmen)

19. The scene when you’re speeding in your favorite
car (or it happened to be a car chase)

House of Jealous Lovers – The Rapture

Or

Username - The Fitness

Or

Date With The Night – Yeah Yeah Yeahs

20. The scene where you have to say goodbye to
someone you love

As You Turn to Go – The 6ths.

Or

In This Home on Ice – Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

21. Scene where things in your life just fall into place for the first time

My Own Face Inside the Trees - The Clientele

22. The ending scene/credit title

Grass – Animal Collective

Very Pedestrian

After being intellectually stimulated by a movie about young New York Debutantes, I ate a lemon, which made my eye twitch with bitterness, and two cloves of garlic, which made my face flush as if it’d been slapped and gave me terrible heartburn, then I collapsed as a trailing afterthought into bed. There was an illness, you see, that was creeping up on me after two nights of drinking and slowly turning me into I-Ache-Don’t-Stand-or-Karaoke-,nor—Do-I-Dance that had to be dealt with last night. So, that was that, and the grammar, I realize, in all this, is choppy. But, the structure of the thing is presently inconsequential as I have things to get on with yet felt an update would only be polite. School’s started—all this stuff to mull over, and my special pen keeps popping up everywhere. Salute.

regulation

Is there a narrative to all this? Stood on the dusty curve of the sidelines and saw the last baby goat stampede of the season--come on babies!! (seriously. I would be lying if I said I wasn't terrified of them crashing through my locked knees). Squeezed pâté onto crackers by the sundial. A weekend of picnics, two boxes of red wine, the hard heart of pumpernickel. In the middle of the wine, wandered into a parking lot and found a new pair of these owl keds in a box that also had a few too many bras in it (uhh . . ."tee-hee cute shoes . .teeee heee"?):

Suspicious—abandonment--somewhere out there a barefoot, barechested woman roams from midnight to midnight? and yet, they’ve grown on me. That’s two posts in a row overpowered with mentions of clothes. It's like the universe wants me to have a new wardrobe--God, are you displeased with my look? Is it not made in your image? School starts tomorrow, and Gaia is taking me shopping for the season. You know what I need to do? You know what I need to do because it's this oppressive albatross on my neck that I am now more than often convinced is the dark source and wellspring from which any or all of my depression and frustration may originate from? A simple yet massive task: organize my writing. Right now it's stacked in box after box in a separate closet and that fact has been squeezing the blood from my heels for weeks now and yet I've been putting it off not only because all the heaving piles of paper are of great weight but because the task is . . .psychically disturbing. Meaning: check your ego at the door and don't be overwhelmed. Don't stop to re-read and edit, just make piles, look later. Though I think I've come to realize that not doing the deed is even worse for the psyche--so there we have it. We know what must be done so I start feeling a bit more like a breathing person again. Oh lord. This is why people have filing systems, in and out boxes, secretaries: peace of mind, more money for infrastructure.

casual deals

I think it’d be best for me to know you through the process of elimination, naming the hurricanes with the ordered letters of ethnic personas that have gentle, silver hair and a walking stick before they ever reach land with all that diminished force--that one never hit as they thought it would. Last night so exacting with my gin—I’ve one way of pouring it and it’s not because I’m a creature of habit. No choice but to take the half off discount on a gray wool-silk jacket—I was stuck in its jammed double zipper, no choice but to walk out with new outerwear. I’ve already helped a guy today with the same zipper problem, the sales girl said. I can’t help you. Are you trying to enforce the fact that you aren’t a lesbian and are therefore declining to fumble around with the zipper of my soon to be new jacket that you will give me at half price, or are you trying to illuminate me on the fine line between lazy-useless and useless-couture? Because it’s still kind of blurred. And, as you may not know, the large black button of the Dior jacket I tried on earlier came right off in my hand. Since I barely touched it before it crumbled off, I didn’t feel the need to say anything, and slipped it into the pocket of the green leather raincoat that also hung in the same change room. It should still be there if you want to reattach the clasping device. Or, you can give me the Dior at half off, too. Fucking. Cuntwhore. To my glee, we got all dad-like and took pliers to the double zipper, three hours later, and my new gray jacket can now live a charmed life on my body--coming on and off at my will. If you need me, I'll be right here, in the strange land of Grateful and Gloating.