yesterday i downloaded some pinback, chicks on speed and some peaches. after one listen i deleted the chicks on speed song. i think it was a really good song- it featured some languid-sounding woman repeatedly intoning the phrase "end of the century, have a nice party" backed by some wild drum loops. it was good, it was just too crazy for me. i think i'm at a point where my day-to-day shit is so mundane that anything that doesn't parallel that mundanity is merely disruptive. i guess that makes me old. yeah, right....i'm a wizened old 22. i don't know; do you get what i mean?
in this vein, i find myself liking the photographs on my walls more than ever. they're just some snapshots of friends ive taken over the last few years and blown up to epic proportions. they're all similar in that every subject in them is blankly staring at the camera, many with mouth slightly agape. it's kind of trendy or whatever, but i honestly like them. there's sort of a sense of continuation outside of the photograph, like what you're seeing is a legitimate reaction to something that's not terribly interesting. the open-endedness of the expression...it seems to imply possibility but not expectation, if that makes any sense. oh jesus christ, i sound like a fucking critic. that settles it- all back issues of *wallpaper are being burned tonight. oh, but i wanted to buy the new 'spruce'...
the deer head is still there, in the parking lot next to the dumpster. tonight there are tornado warnings that will last for twelve hours. will the deer head still be there tomorrow? i hope not. i hope a tornado picks up the deer head and carries it, spinning, over the city, and lets it fall into a lake. i hope it sinks, still spinning, all the way down to the very bottom of the lake. i hope it spins its way like an awl through the bottom of the lake into the crust of the earth, through the crust to the mantle, through the mantle to the core. i hope it is incinerated unceremoniously by red fire.
come on, tornado- i'm depending on you-