Folded Napkin Observations of less remarkable days. Pt. 3: The Balalaikas are Pas Mal
When you only have one napkin and sensing pt. 3 is coming to a close you may very well have a trilogy on your hands. Or a Triad. Or Triplets. Triangles. Puffins. Looking back, I feel really very silly. I hope someone else feels silly for reading it.
La Rochefoucauld has not seen what I've seen and he certainly doesn't know me very well. I rub oil all over his already sun-burned body and still he wants more.
I'm not sure if I'm going to cross my fingers on this one. I'd like to, but I'm half-pretending I don't care one way or another.
Do it right now. Right now. We're thinking about it, so let's be men. It's not much better to live a life in secret, but it's still better.
Blogs are so gay. I've offered a disclaimer so I automatically nullify myself. It's not so bad getting a little validation every once in a while.
Folded Napkin Observations of less remarkable days. Pt. 2: The Likely Hoods
I call that band name, by the way, I refuse to see if it is taken. If I haven't heard of your band, chances are, you're not bothering me enough. Let us laugh about this watching some mind numbing performance art and wearing kimonos, but you're having a time wearing those chopines,
I certainly should tell you a few things about the past few days.
By you I mean no one. Good thing no one answers to you. Hey, you!
Yes, so, I am not a liar. Not one of them. I could never associate with anyone who associated with a liar. And by associate I mean kill. And by liar I mean recovery. Or myself. I might mean myself.
SO. I am placing my hands in my lap and then pushing hair behind my ears and then looking at no one's forehead and then looking at no one's eyes all the while saying what it is that I am trying so hard to tell no one now, again, apparently.
No one should listen because I told no one in Octobruary, which is actually now, and no one can get themselves a beverage when I'm done.
Ah. I see familiar marks on it everywhere. I think my skin was stolen. It might be. I haven't seen my skin in days. It should not be stealing skin as it has enough qualities to win a coveted prize.
People with skin seem to just want more skin if it is indeed a person, which, just the other day, I've come to find out it is just that. I breathed a sigh of relief and then sucked back in the relief and the trees must have been less than gleefully aware as I took some of the air that I meant to trade them for oxygen and they made me feel alone. In return.
So seven days is a week. And thirteen days is a baker's week? No, thirteen days is a long time. 13 = long. And the truth is that soon is not soon enough from now on. But thirteen days has made me a petrified slat. And 13 more days? We'll see. I can't imagine it will be that long. It will seem long, but 13 years from now I will see nothing as I will have not a speck of neuronic movement. I am going to overdose on iced tea, yes sir.
I don't KNOW. But I am pretty sure. Maybe in two days I will change my mind. But you can't change fact. And people seem to be spitting fact all over the place. I know this and I know that. Written in stone. If somebody convinced me of something and I believed them and applied it to my daily life for some time and then they told me in some amount of time later that said "fact" was no longer true and wasn't true then but was coaxed out by causes undetermined would I be able to substitute it as fact in future present? I don't know. And that's a fact. It will always be a fact. I don't ever want to meet someone who believes otherwise. They might as well be Christian. Heavy heavy Christian. Notice I said might. I don't fucking know is why. I obviously can't do anything about personal lack of satiation. Or space for that matter. Well, I can.
Kevin Shields remixed a song I wrote...before I wrote it.
This isn't really a blog, per se, but I'd still like to emit sound over the Marie Antoinette soundrack---which proceeds as follows:
DISC 1 01. "Hong Kong Garden" - Siouxsie & The Banshees 02. "Aphrodisiac" - Bow Wow Wow 03. "What Ever Happened" - The Strokes 04. "Pulling Our Weight" - The Radio Dept. 05. "Ceremony" - New Order 06. "Natural's Not In It" - Gang of Four 07. "I Want Candy (Kevin Shields Remix)" - Bow Wow Wow 08. "Kings Of The Wild Frontier" - Adam & The Ants 09. "Concerto in G" * - Antonio Vivaldi / Reitzell 10. "The Melody Of A Fallen Tree" - Windsor For The Derby 11. "I Don't Like It Like This" - The Radio Dept. 12. "Plainsong" - The Cure
DISC 2 01. "Intro Versailles"* - Reitzell / Beggs 02. "Jynweythek Ylow" - Aphex Twin 03. "Opus 17" - Dustin O'Halloran 04. "Il Secondo Giorno (Instrumental)" - Air 05. "Keen On Boys" - The Radio Dept. 06. "Opus 23" *- Dustin O'Halloran 07. "Les Baricades Misterieuses"* - Francois Couperin / Reitzell 08. "Fools Rush In (Kevin Shields Remix)" - Bow Wow Wow 09. "Avril 14th" - Aphex Twin 10. "K. 213" * - Domenico Scarlatti / Reitzell 11. "Tommib Help Buss" - Squarepusher 12. "Tristes Apprets.." - Jean Philippe Rameau / W. Christie 13. "Opus 36"*- Dustin O'Halloran 14. "All Cat's Are Grey" - The Cure
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