I wish my life was like that song "Greetings to the New Brunette" by Billy Bragg, but really it's like i'm Igby Slocumb but minus the whole bourgeoise upbringing. That is to say, disillusioned and sophmoric in my angst. Fast-paced urban lifestyles are too intoxicating for the already confused, I'm afraid that everyone falling in and out of my company is noticing my growing sense of misanthropy. I don't know if i'm becoming more "modern" or if it's a regression into myself, but it feels like i'm watching my own life play out in front of me, rather than being in control of it. So I've been finding comfort in the written word again. Dipping my toes into the philosophy of Objectivism. An area which I've been skeptical of treading untill now, on account of its justification of laissez-faire economics and digression from existentialism, where i've been philosophically centered. Even if Ayn Rand is a fucking capitalist bigot, she understands this growing sense of objective reality, no matter how disillusioned i've become with it.
I'm seeing Ted Leo tonight. Now, as exited as I am about it, It's not where I thought i'd be 2 months ago. There was a time when TL was the voice of everything positive in my life, he personified my idealism and made me want to dance. But on account of the growing sense of disattachment I mentioned earlier Im not jumping out of my seat. Ted Leo, since I first heard "Timorous Me" 3 or 4 years ago, has been on my list of musicians I HAVE to see. I have a feeling that once i'm there, up in the front row and he breaks out "Hearts Of Oak" I'll be caught up in it, pumping my fist and dancing like it was this time last year again. La Sala Rossa is the absolute perfect venue for this to go down in, I'm hoping it will be a night to be remembered.
The skeleton of the second installment of my zine had been written, finally. It's about two lovers who come across a dead body one morning, and upon realizing that this death has no influence on their lives and the universe is orchestrated randomly, they are able to have sex that afternoon without guilt. There is also this whole thing about grapes and the catholic church and girls having their periods. I promise lots of sex, blood and reflective conciousness.