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30.1.03

ok so weirdest thing _ever_ is to find that people are reading your blog because they've done a web search for _YOUR NAME_. especially when it's a sorta weird one like mine....you have to figure at least a couple of them are doing it because they're looking _FOR YOU_. then you get EMAILS from them. THEN it's weird because you feel like you're being stalked... it's a bit disturbing & makes you want to erase yourself from the ether in a way that would cause you to fall off the grid.

then again, i suppose we could just consider me another casualty in the privacy war. *sigh*


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have you ever found yourself curious about dumpster diving? though i agree with the premise that americans are intensely wasteful, i'm not sure i'm comfortable with the idea as it does tend to classify one as, well, nothing more than a dumpster-diver i guess. still. amazing the things you come across on your daily perusal of informative little updates.

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29.1.03
the state of the union address last night was so disheartening & stupid that i can't even begin to want to talk about it.

not to mention the fact that there isn't all that much to talk _about_.

*sigh*

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28.1.03
it's always nice to see stuff like the below - articles that recognize & appreciate the importance of authorial positioning, while dealing directly with issues that affect everyday life rather than nebulous & etherial theory....

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A LIBERAL 'HOAX' TURNS OUT TO BE TRUE. Trick Question
by Michael Fumento

Many conservative writers, myself included, have criticized the growing tendency to pathologize every undesirable behavior--especially where children are concerned. But, when it comes to ADHD, this skepticism is misplaced. As even a cursory examination of the existing literature or, for that matter, simply talking to the parents and teachers of children with ADHD reveals, the condition is real, and it is treatable. And, if you don't believe me, you can ask conservatives who've come face to face with it themselves.


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i love gossip.

BRITNEY Spears , movie critic? The belly-baring pop tart caused a stir during a Sundance Festival screening of Robert Downey Jr..?s "The Singing Detective" when she and her large entourage walked out 45 minutes into the flick. Spears later told a PAGE SIX spy, "The official line is we had our schedules mixed up, so we had to leave, but I didn?t like the movie . . . Sundance is weird. The movies are weird - you actually have to think about them when you watch them."


for other beautiful bits courtesy of the new york post...because there's something to be said for meaningless information about "stupid" famous people...

read today a co-workers' top-ten list. it's so good it makes me want to vomit. not because the list is anything spectacular, but because it makes sense. he makes intelligent choices based on his ENTIRE year. he's smart & uses that intelligence not to justify, but to explain & humourously debunk the whole notion of "top-ten."

it makes me happy to work with people who use words like "sociopathy," "fetishization," and have fun calling THE HOURS as the "worst" film of the year - for good reason. as soon as this man & his silly friends have their website up, i'm linking. ooh baby, am i linking.


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24.1.03
another week come & gone. trying desperately [well, not really] to figure out if i should just go back to LA. feeling unfortunate & as if that would count as "giving up," or "failing." or if it just makes an honest woman of me to actually _make_ some money for a change....

a guy i work with just told me that The Hours is actually funny & "[he] laughed through the entire thing." i think that's why i like working here, even though i do so for free. or, at least, why i'm still here in spite of that.

am definitely going to LA in april to see They Might Be Giants vs. McSweeney's at UCLA - that should be an interesting show, if not a good time... but i'll have to see. it's strange / depressing / frustrating that i really have been in fucking STASIS for going on six months now.

i know a lot of that is perhaps "my fault" - yet i'm constantly stuck between wanting to take personal responsibility for everything & being told that it's _not_ "my fault"....oye vey. if i were a post-structuralist i'd be paralysed by my own personal dilemmas. mwahahahahahahahah.


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testing.....wrote a post this week that hasn't shown up yet. will this one?


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21.1.03
well. back in new york, drinkin' like a fish, not doing much of anything else. goodness. i haven't even been back a week, & already i feel more tired than i was during the entirety of my sabbatical in la-la land... it's strange to be back here again, looking at the city from somewhat fresh eyes, b/c in so many ways it is as if i never left. of course....still strange though. i feel a bit surreal & nauseous just thinking about it all.

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14.1.03
every once in a while, one is reminded of the fact that there are some things which will never be eclipsed by technology in their efficacy. like the foghorn sounding outside my window, followed by the sweep of the lighthouse beam as it covers the waters in front of the marina. *sigh*

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i love self-referential new yorkers

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saw russian ark the other day, & it reminded me of the flaneur. i think that's the only reason i really liked it...

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it felt incredibly apropos that this afternoon, driving home in a fog [literally] from a meeting with a record exec, that i proceeded to listen to luna's newest album in its entirety playing on kxlu. i could have sworn that sort of thing is illegal, but couldn't really care less - after listening to this guy talk about how now is the worst possible time to be vaguely considering working in the record business, well, yeah.

also perfect that on my last afternoon in los angeles, after an altogether too-extended stay, i found myself wiping cobwebs from my brain in preparation for my return to new york - while driving through them in the vehicle.

it's been an interesting trip. in a certain way, i feel as though i've made some peace with myself - listening to everyone go on & on about why film is evil in an enthusiastic tone of voice has been a bit overwhelming, to say the least - but also a bit expected & welcomed. we all know that having made the decision to work in an industry populated almost entirely by power- & money-hungry mysogenists [both male & female], life will verge on unpleasant & generally weird. but i've rarely felt so much excitement from people upon mentioning my aspirations... rather than scoffing, these fuckers are enthused - enthused to talk about what they've done & what they do, enthused to hear that i'm interested, & enthused to help me out. & that's the best part... it's like being welcomed into a huge, dysfunctional, abusive family - with one arm open & fingers crossed behind their backs, they open the triple-bolted door, all of us knowing full well the chaos that lives within.


enough metaphorical bullshit - i find la to have a weird chemical in the air that leads one to think in terms of psychics, futures & fortunes, metaphysical metaphors & "finding" meaning in all the wrong places - i dunno if it's the fact that yesterday on my way to ICM i walked past not one but three psychics, willing to read your palm your cards your ass for all i know to tell you your "future" - but this place is steeped in what strikes me as the wrong kind of mysticism. rather than find it around you in the strangest places, it's served on platters to people too bored with their own existence to bother looking for, well, anything that isn't already there.

again i'm making generalisations, which i sorta resolved to do less. but perhaps we can call them observations instead?



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11.1.03

turns out invisible radio s'not completely dead after all....some of them are joining a new venture.

they also are giving some nice linkies in the meantime, including my favorite california radio station, kcrw, and specifically their programs morning becomes ecclectic & brave new world.

radio is the thing that keeps southern california alive during the intermniable time you spend in your vehicle. being that everything is 20 minutes from everything else [by car], you need to either have a killer sound system & a shitload of cds _or_ some good radio, or both.

KCRW is the kind of public, listener supported radio station that makes being in california not necessarily worthwhile, as you can listen to it online, but tolerable. to the invisible radio selections of morning becomes ecclectic & brave new world, i would add weekend becomes ecclectic as well - the host of that show _used_ to host morning becomes ecclectic, until he left to work for dreamworks...one would hope that the reason he's back is that he's left his dreamworks job, but somehow i doubt it - i think he just missed the idea of giving great music to the masses via a public, listener supported radio station in the largest radio market in the nation.

in addition to KCRW, there's KXLU - loyola marymount college radio. there's something about good college radio - it's just, well, risky & interesting in a way that the bullshit mainstream radio. listen to itlive monday-friday.

anyway. i like that there's good radio out there. it reminds me of how, last summer during the fires in colorado, the radio became the most important method of local communication for evacuations, progress of the fires, &c &c &c - while the tv news based in Denver was no help at all [despite the fact that i was interviewed as a "local" for one channel, they didn't use me. i don't think i was very photogenic].

radio as a medium...helpful for a reminder of the importance of minimal-stimulation media for conveying information. also good for listening to baseball games. who wants to watch baseball on tv? it's boring. radio baseball...wow. nothing better on a summer night than sitting outside on your roof in as little clothing as possible, drinking beer & listening to a baseball game.



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from david, who doesn't like my blog any more: an article written by the head of invisible radio, seeing as it's now been destroyed & dead & gone. like many of my linkie-poos, i'm going to have to remove it now. hopefully, as with arts & letters daily, i'll be able to put it back b/c it becomes independently funded or brilliantly brought back from the dead....or something.


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search of the day on yahoo.com: Rappers and their glamourous cars

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in that vein - anyone who gives me a hard time about being depressed, click here!

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Too Much Coffee Man, as he once saved the universe, now Apologises for america. well, not exactly. this time instead of it being TMCM himself, it's Shannon Wheeler, the artists. but check back frequently for updates anyway, because it's still funny.

god bless america & coffee.





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because the american government wants _you_ to prevent hackers.
also for fun try replacing the number of the poster with any digit between 1-13.

my personal favorites:

http://www.andrews.af.mil/89cg/89cs/scbsi/images/poster11.jpg

http://www.andrews.af.mil/89cg/89cs/scbsi/images/poster9.jpg

http://www.andrews.af.mil/89cg/89cs/scbsi/images/poster7.jpg

http://www.andrews.af.mil/89cg/89cs/scbsi/images/poster2.jpg

if they dissapear, [seems to be happening a lot w/ .mil websites] you can find at least one of these archived on declan mccullagh's politechbot website.



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4.1.03
a not completely depressed perspective on american civil liberties found on Declan McCullagh's Politechbot mailing list.

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there was a brownout / blackout last night from my house all the way to the beach [blown transformer]. my mom was ready to go to sleep at 7pm, but i found the whole thing to be kinda nice - there's something about cooking in the dark & eating dinner by candlelight that is just lovely.


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got this email today from paul d. miller [aka dj spooky] via nettime, a mailing list of international culture, politics, & generally smart people talking about intelligent things. figured y'all might enjoy it...

To: "nettime-l@bbs.thing.net"
Subject: FUCK HIP HOP: A Eulogy to Hip Hop

if you're as bored with conventional hip-hop as a whole bunch of us are these days, well... read on. Criticcs+A&R types+Mags...

the whole deal=MAD BORING.


Saul Williams forwarded this to me, and yeah, I gotta admit, the bro has some points... just another salvo in the culture wars... Boredom in the face of a totalitarian state... you couldn't think of a weirder situation. But hey... it's the 21st century. Between clones, cults, twisted propaganda from the Bush clan, the general sense of myopia in the media, and the basic numbness of the populace of the good Old U.S. of A... who would ever think, like Michael Moore points out - that fear and mass delusion create - pathological boredom... "Bowling for Columbine" - my pick of the SOUND of the year... bullets from K-Mart in the television skies of the collective mass delusion... 21st century schizoid man in the urban jungle... fiber optic cables, re-routes exit codes of a planet put in parantheses by satellites in the sky. Can critics get more boring? Can art shows based on hip-hop be evn duller? Can the U.S. become even more totalitarian? This, folks, is just the beginning... Dada for the masses becomes net-culture dispersion. Check the zone...

peace,
Paul



FUCK HIP HOP
A Eulogy to Hip Hop
by Pierre Bennu
Dissident Voice
December 18, 2002


I know you've been thinking it. And if you haven't, you probably haven't been paying attention. The art we once called hip hop has been dead for some time now. But because its rotting carcass has been draped in platinum and propped against a Gucci print car, many of us have missed its demise.

I think the time has come to bid a farewell to the last black arts movement. It's had a good run but it no longer serves the community that spawned it. Innovation has been replaced with mediocrity and originality replaced with recycled nostalgia for the ghost of hip hop past, leaving nothing to look forward to. Honestly when was the last time you heard something (mainstream) that made you want to run around in circles and write down every word. When was the last time you didn't feel guilty nodding your head to a song that had a 'hot beat' after realizing the lyrical content made you cringe.

When I heard Jam Master Jay had been murdered, it was the icing on the cake. A friend and I spoke for hours after he'd turned on the radio looking for solace and instead heard a member of the label Murder, Inc. about to give testimony about the slain DJ's legacy. My friend found the irony too great to even hear what the rapper had to say.

After we got off the phone, I dug through my crates and played the single"Self Destruction." The needle fell on the lyrics:

"They call us animals
I don't agree with them
Let's prove em wrong
But right is what were proving em"

The only thing that kept me from crying was my anger trying to imagine today's top hip hop artists getting together to do a song that urged disarmament in African American communities, or promoted literacy, or involved anything bigger than themselves for that matter. I couldn't picture it.

All I could picture were the myriad of hip hop conferences where the moguls and figureheads go through the motions and say the things that people want to hear but at the end of the day nothing changes. No new innovative artists are hired to balance out a roster of the pornographic genocide MC's.

In their place, we're presented with yet more examples of arrested development - the portrayal of grown men and women acting and dressing like 15 year olds. Balding insecure men in their mid 30's making entire songs about their sexual prowess and what shiny toys they have and you don't. The only hate I see is self-hate. The only love I see is self-love

All one needs to do is watch cribs and notice none of these people showing off their heated indoor pools or the PlayStation Two consoles installed in all twelve of their luxury cars have a library in their home. Or display a bookshelf, for that matter. No rapper on cribs has ever been quoted saying: "Yeah, this is the room where I do all my reading, nahmean?"

To quote Puffy in Vogue magazine Nov, 2002: "Diamonds are a great investment. They're not only a girl's best friend, they are my best friend. I like the way diamonds make me feel. I can't really explain it, its like: that's a rock, something sent to me from nature, from God, it makes me feel good. It's almost like my security cape."

If rappers read, they might know about the decades of near-slavery endured by South African diamond miners. Or the rebels in Sierra Leone whose bloody diamond-fueled anti-voting rampages leave thousands of innocent men, women and children with amputated limbs.

Often, hip hop's blatant excess is rationalized with, "We came from nothing." That statement rings hollow given even a little bit of context. African Americans have been "coming from nothing" for 400 years. That didn't stop previous generations of artists, activists, and ancestors from working toward a better situation for the whole, not just themselves. It's grotesque to see such selfish materialism celebrated by a generation who are literally the children of apartheid.

The time has come to re-define the street and what it means to come from the street. Yes, criminals & violence come from the streets, but so do men and women who live their lives with kindness, and within the realm of the law. The problem with making 'street' or 'realness' synonymous with criminality is that poor black children are demonized. You never see the image of middle class white children killing each other promoted as entertainment.

I respect the ability of an artist to explore the darker side or extremities of their personality but when that's all there is, there is no balance. In previous years, NWA existed simultaneously with Native Tongues, Cypress Hill and Digable Planets, Gangstar and 2 Live Crew.

There's room for thugz, playaz, gangstas, and what have you. My issue (aside from the fact that rappers spell everything phonetically) is that they have no heart. Rappers reflect what has become a new image of success where money is its own validation and caring is soft unless you're dropping a single about your dead homie.

Question: Why haven't these so-called "ballers" gotten together and bought a farm, a prison, a super market chain, or chartered a school? But they all have clothing lines. Smells like a sucker to me. The lack of social responsibility from people who claim to 'rep the streets' is stunning.

Yet we still have had the hearts and minds of most of the world. We negate this power if we don't step up to the plate. Our perspective needs to change; our whole idea of power needs to globalize. Gangsta shouldn't be shooting someone you grew up with in the face. "Gangsta" is calling the United States to task for not attending the World Summit on Racism in South Africa. "Balling" shouldn't be renting a mansion; it should be owning your own distribution company or starting a union. Bill Cosby's bid to buy NBC was more threatening than any screwface jewelry clad MC in a video could ever be.

As a DJ, it's hard: I pick up the instrumental version of records that people nod their head to -- and mix it with the a cappella version of artists with something to say. It is expensive and frustrating. But I feel like the alternative is the musical equivalent to selling crack: spinning hits because it's easy, ignoring the fact that it's got us dancing to genocide.

There are plenty of alternatives today but you'd never know it through the mass media. Hip hop has become Steven Seagal in a do-rag. Meanwhile, media radar rarely registers artists like Cannibal Ox, Madlib and the whole Stones Throw crew, Bless, Saul Williams, Bus Driver, Del, Gorillaz, anything from Def Jux, Freestyle Fellowship, Anti Pop Consortium, Kool Keith, Prince Paul, shit Public Enemy -- the list goes on for ever. I get some solace from knowing and supporting these artists, and from the fact that around the world from Germany to Cuba to Brazil to South Africa, hip hop's accessibility and capacity for genius is still vital, thriving, and relevant.

And yes even amongst the bleak landscape in this country, wonderful things do happen. Like Camp Cool J and various artists donating money to research AIDS and even lend their faces to voting campaigns. Russell Simmons, among other socially conscious endeavors, led a rally to stop NYC's mayor from cutting the school budget and donates part of the proceeds from his sneaker sales to the reparations movement. The lack of coverage of efforts like this is as much to blame as any wack MC with a platinum record.

I'm not dissing the innovators of the art form, or those of us who got it where it is today. I will always play and support what I feel is good work. I guess this rant came more out of what Chuck D said at the end of Self Destruction: "We've got to keep ourselves in check," and no one has checked hip hop for some time.

I've entertained the idea that I might just be getting old. But if it's a function of my age that I remember hip hop as the people's champ, so be it. I was raised on a vital art form that has now become a computer-generated character doing the cabbage patch in a commercial, or a comedian 'raising the roof.' That's not influence to me, that's mockery.

Hip hop my friend, it's been a great 30 years filled with great memories, and it's been fun to watch you grow. We've got dozens of broke innovators and plenty of mediocre millionaires out of the deal, but I really need my space now and we've got to go our separate ways. I will always love you, but it's time for me to move on.

Yo, what happened to peace?

Peace.


Pierre Bennu is an award-winning filmmaker, poet, artist and performer. He is, along with wife Jamyla, a founder of exittheapple, a creativity collective focusing on film and digital media, visual arts, literature, dance, and music. He is the author of Bullshit or Fertilizer?: Tough Love for Artists on the Fence.



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"None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free...."
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe


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3.1.03
Arms and the men and hobbits - Salman Rushdie for the Guardian Unlimited [UK]


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i'm constantly struggling to remember whether it's = it is or its = it is. isn't it that its = it is & it's = possessive? or is it the other way around? aaaaaah. well, if i've screwed it up below, just remember - i'm not a grammar teacher & although i once swore to myself that i'd never forget which was which, it appears i may have.

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i've spent the last 12 days in l.a. & i feel like my head is melting. i've done nothing but sit on my ass, eat, & see movies [gangs of new york, lord of the rings, catch me if you can, drumline, star trek: nemesis]. & i haven't even seen that many - but really what i've been doing is surviving - & in a very different way than i do in new york.

having been bi-coastal most of my life [i went to boarding school & college on the eastern seaboard, spent summers at music camps in Vermont & working in DC, while my parents lived in l.a.] i have always been struck by the marked contrast b/t the two coasts. my first moment of reflection regarding this fairly obvious disparity was in the school van to the airport my first thanksgiving at boarding school - all of a sudden i realized i was going to have to fundamentally shift my conversational tone, my way of dress, my perspective in order to function in these drastically different environs. this may strike the casual observer as a bit drastic & unnecessary, but its just not. i've attempted to avoid it before, with dramatically icky consequences, especially with my family.

so after years of fundamentally adjusting my persona for brief [& not-so-brief] periods of time, i've come to realize that i just don't like it all that much out here. its not that the universal things that make people human simply don't exist here, although one could make that argument - more itís just the general foregrounding of bullshit sentimentality & superficiality which drive me fucking nuts.

so here i am, 24 now & soon to return to new york, my "home." & all of a sudden i'm thinking about re-engaging in the hubbub of the city, taking a deep breath & plunging back in to the icy waters between the hudson & east rivers - & its not that i'm reticent, or unexcited - i'm simply wary. please excuse the word-play, but i'm weary of the job-hunt, of the drinking & the carbohydrate-heavy diet of the single cook. i'm not necessarily looking forward to being back in the same place i was roughly two weeks ago.

part of this, i think, is a phenomenon i noticed back in college. leaving the rush & press of constant activity for the relative sanctity of the home meant a time to collect my thoughts & engage in rapid psychic development, to such an extent that i got pretty used to having different friends every semester, because i'd come back to my regular environs a moderately different person than i was when i left - different enough that it just didn't feel right to stay in the psychological & physical space which had been so comfortable only a few weeks before.

but that would also [at least for right now] be giving myself a bit too much credit. i think that honestly, i'm just not looking forward to being broke & lonely in the big city. as difficult as it is to be at home with my family, i'm also spending time sitting out on the porch in the 60 degree weather. i'm physically feeling more rested because iím sleeping more, eating healthier, & generally drinking less, not to mention avoiding la vida blanca, boys who are unhealthy & interested in one thing only, & a job where i'm not getting paid.

so all of this thinking comes because today i interviewed for a perspective job here in la la land.

what a weird thought, to not only move "home" [literally into my parents' house], but to work for as an agents' assistant in beverly hills. talk about joining the borg collective. yet there's something appealingly easy about it. just think of all the wonderful opportunities to complain about the idiocy of the Hollywood machine! to criticize the way people dress, & bleach their hair, & get boob jobs & wear anything as long as its expensive - the desire to drive big stupid cars because they're bigger than anyone else's - the opportunity to be psychicly exhausted not because i'm creating some drama, but because my family this, or my boyfriend that, or my boss is such a psycho bitch, or the traffic or the outfits or the fucking whatever.

the challenge then would be to "be happy" in this context. yikes. what a daunting task. then again, the challenge is always to "be happy," in whatever context. & though i'm not sure its ever easy to be truly happy, the important part is to be in an environment [or context, if you will] that doesn't leave you cold & angry - that in its little ways forces you to take pause & just notice the little things that are _good_. i'm not sure what it is about l.a. that obfuscates the _good_ for me, while in the dark cold weird world of new york i feel more in touch with what i like about the world. i suppose it could be something about the raw power running through everything there, the energy & excitement which pervades even my darkest moments. there is something magical about the city, something this bizarre urban sprawl can't even begin to touch.

when i didn't move to new york after college, i was glad because i wasn't ready. i wasn't ready to hold my own, to swim instead of sink in the undertow. on a certain level, i'm more ill-prepared to be there now, with my very foundations shaken by the city, than i ever was as a naive ivy-league graduate who believed the world existed for my taking. but there is something about the new year, the inherent "starting over" i always experience when i return to the east coast, which excites me about this going back. yes, i am discouraged. yes, i am disheartened & afraid of what the next few months will bring. but the hunger hasn't gone anywhere. & when the dust settles, as it always does, i will stand naked before the world with nothing to fear but my own bullshit. & that's why it works for me out there. because there is no other distraction from the harsh reality of my _self_ than the veils i throw before my own eyes. there are no false promises except for those i make to myself. & that hard, cold, steel context is exactly what i need, want, & thrive on when i force myself to see only what lies before. not beneath, behind, or inside myself or anybody else.

so i guess i've made my decision about staying home. which is not to say i won't go to the interview or pursue them next week if the opportunity arises - i'd be an asshole to turn down anything at this point - but i think i know where i belong, at least for now - there is no place i'd rather be waking up to question myself than in a city that couldn't care less one way or the other.


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