The American Caliban (substitute) wrote,
The American Caliban

The standing waves of an underground sea

Nostalgia is acutely painful to me. I am not sure why. When I think about people I miss, or places I've been and not likely to return, it hurts quite a bit. Why I would want to see the woman i was in love with in 1986, or a place I lived in for a short time, or an object I lost 15 years ago, is beyond me. Why does my brain do this?

I seem to be developing a shoe fetish. I never was interested in clothes at all before, but now I always want a new pair of shoes. Could I be turning female?

I can remember very clearly the record that made me realize that I was going to be an underground music fan for life; I picked up a copy of Pere Ubu's "30 Seconds Over Tokyo" in high school because Andrea 'Enthal played it on the radio on KPFK and it blew my mind.

Short paragraphs like this feed the beast. It's MTV forever now; people have short attention spans and eat up life in tiny bits like peanut butter cups. No more Proust; it's all Douglas Coupland now. Or me; I'm cheaper!

I have successfully simplified the martini to: gin from the freezer + olive.

I need love; I need a woman. But with sufficient amounts of macaroni & cheese I can survive without connubial bliss.

30 seconds and a one-way ride
30 seconds and no place to hide
30 seconds over tokyo
30 seconds over tokyo
30 seconds over tokyo
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