introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- American Dream going on three - monday,monday, march 12, 2001 I guess thats it for Spring Break 2001. I officially get back to the grind at 6pm, when I return to work to call MS patients at home and poke and prod at their brains, a torture that must be on par with the intramuscular application of medication. Paying them 35 American Dollars for a half hour of their vertigo time doesn't seem quite ethical to me. Talk about a depressing evening...and knowing its coming doesn't make the beautiful day as free as it might be. Regardless, last night was rad: we drank, I reunited with my beloved box of wires and circuitboards, I enjoyed the electronic company of a boy in Tennessee (tennessee? tennessee.) and went to bed at 3. A perfect ending to a rather pleasing break. I am refreshed. So someone reminded me that I am a Janis Ian fan and I can't take it out of my player. I've been carrying the discs around in my cd book for some time, but I always get sidetracked by Adam Duritz' reassuring empathy or the Tori mix tape that Dana made for me. I am forever being sidetracked. So, on this gorgeous day that smells a lot like spring, I'm gonna pull on my hikers and take the dog to the Grove for a little game of fetch and attack of the pretty girls. Verbil rules. I guess I am gonna do a bit of freestylin' here before I go out to greet the crocus and watch the snow melt. Brian M and Senor Baked Ziti: thank you for the best night out in some time. SPRING BREAK TWO THOUSAND ONE, TAKING IT TO THE CEREBRAL CORTEX. Everyone, enjoy your respective breaks; everyone, be well. You're south of the mason dixon line, with a mind I'd like to pick to pieces, a head I don't mind exploring, with common grounds that go beyond not being morning people. I wanna thank you for reminding me not to let him get me down; I wanna thank you for flipping a switch in my head from somewhere south of the mason dixon line. I wanna explain it all, but its hardly worth the story. You've got your music, You've got your cinema, You dig Spike Lee and Dixie Chicks and I can't figure out why this feels so easy. And Janis Ian and Willy Nelson are singing about Memphis and I've never been.... but maybe I ought to think about it. Tennessee breeds boys that watch Felicity; Tennesee breeds boys that are unreal. And there's still that nagging in the back of my head, the nagging voice of solitude, the solitude I've become so aquainted with, the solitude I have learned to enjoy. But even Solitude won't be still when Janis starts singing politics and Leave a Light On. You're south of the mason dixon line, with a mind I'd like to pick to pieces, a head I don't mind exploring, with common grounds that go beyond not being morning people. I want to hike through your head, I want to map out your memories, I want to pick you to pieces til I find out what makes you tick. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
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