Lately I’ve endulged my inner teenager & let her listen to Depeche Mode at full blast in the car. Black Celebration, Music For the Masses, Violator. Why? What good could possibly come of such a ridiculous endeavor? I’ve grown up in my musical tastes, developed a penchant for bowel splittng rock, thoughtful hip hop with blistering beats, & moody half classical anthems to deviant sexuality.
So what rotted corpse of ancient high schoolish flesh has risen as a zombie of taste in my addled mind?
Since when did I start writing really, flamingly stupid similes?!
Eh hem. My life is profoundly complicated right now. Like, it’s ridiculous. It’s all leading to good things, but I am juggling chain saws, & some of them I have to juggle so stealthily, NO ONE NOTICES. Explain to me how the fuck I am doing this again?
I’m keeping a lot of secrets. Everything will be revealed relatively soon in the scheme of things, before the next equinox at the latest, but I am keeping some doozies. Some are for other people. Many are mine. I am unused to living so unopenly. And yet…
I think the swirl of intrigue (which, really, is not all that intriguing) is exhausting my rational mind & making me listen to Depeche Mode. I need to get over this somehow.
Plans within plans. Wait till my brother comes, Baron.
Anybody remember when I used to put my mum’s black slip on my sister’s head & make her be Ilia? And how much it freaked out Adam? That was AWESOME.
Yeah. So the random “updates” (such a joke in this medium) are going to continue to come. Only in retrospect will they make sense. Actually, most things only makes sense in retrospect. So don’t blame me. I’m just the gatekeeper.
Had to pop in a little Ghostbusters love for my Uberflaminggeeks out there. Dorks.
Now that fricken song is stuck in my head.
Lemme tell ya somethin’. Bustin’ makes me feel good!