Hows it going? Its been a while since i’ve emailed… I love that graphic of you & cid on the couch. I think i’ll buy a t-shirt of it. Not yet, but on the next visa cycle. It will by my first raymi article of clothing purchase. As of yet I have only purchased marketable depression. That was 1.5 years ago, except I gave it to another friend right after I read it, cause she suffers from anxiety attacks and things like that so I thought it might be of interest. I think she was kind of insulted. We’re not friends any more, thanks for ruining our friendship. Just kidding, I didn’t like her much anyways. No sense of Humour. .
I don’t know how you blog the way you do, the minute i write sometihng down i am embarassed by it. Like I’ve already changed this email 3 times because I felt i was misrepresenting myself. I have kept a journal for the last 12 years (10 years old to 22 years old!) and when i read the old entries its crazy because what i write makes a lot of sense and seems really insightful, but when i’m in the process of writing it always seems like meaningles jabbering. You’d think maybe that would give me some kind of confidence about my writing but it does not. Rant Over.
You should do an art show here, i’d love to buy one of your paintings. What about that thing with the hour, is it panning out?
*Laura*
the hour is calling me today apparently
sorry about your friend you should ask for your book back
and that graphic is wicked i want a shirt too
i guess maybe i get embarrassed by some of my blogging but i put it out of my head and turn off the computer so i cant go look at it again or read comments, you know, sleep on it then move on to the next pile of shit to write the next day and then whatever i previously wrote it’s like small potatoes, who cares. people read my blog for a reason right, whatever that reason is, it might have something to do with how i write so it never occurs to me that this is shit i am a failure bla bla etc i go into it thinking i am hysterical and right all the time.
people like self-negaters sometimes though mostly they are all about people who with huge egos, i dunno, be like that, even if you’re faking it, make it look good.
Alex: I know you probably won’t answer but what do you do on an average day? I’ve been reading your blog and it highlights certain events out of your day funny events but they’re so foregrounded that there is like 0.5% of the day written about in great detail and no idea at all about the rest I’m not criticizing your writing I’m curious
me: well i expose a lot and i keep a lot private i reserve the right to do that
Alex: yeah thats cool I dig that I was just curious do you work? like boring drone style employment or. ….?
me: i work from home i write
Alex: ah cool I thought that might be the case do you write anything other than blogs and myspace?
me: i dont write on myspace i paint i sell art when im not blogging im reading having a bath sleeping watching tv hanging with fil or drinking or doing research i am working on two other books right now
Alex: cool so you’re a professional artist then
me: one could say that
Alex: cool actually I shouldn’t use that word I’m punctuating sentences with it I think there is an interesting tension between what you say and don’t say on your blog you go to sometimes disgusting detail about little things ie. the wet fart in the dream and then the next entry is like days later although that was not a specific example just then my bad anyway I gotta go to work
me: that wet fart was a dream someone had about me and my bf i did not write that
Alex: really? it read like something you would write
me: yeah not me sorry
Alex: ok so it was a bad example but do you know what I mean anyway? or am I just dribbling shit?
me: i think i do
Alex: I think maybe thats the appeal
me: u mean the silences are more than silences? whats the appeal
Alex: well
me: because there seem to be quite a few who think my blog is not appealing at all or are they lying to themselves
Alex: lol well ok let me rephrase that I find it appealing and this is why the little moments (angry, happy, annoying, whatever) are massively foregrounded the fucked up toe and chilli peppers for example things I (cos I can’t speak generally any more) can relate to you don’t really have personal specific information although it reads like thats all it is I dunno I think I’m trying to express something my brain is not capable of doing
me: so it’s personal and yet not at all at the same time you mean
Alex: yeah
me: and thats a draw?
Alex: well it means that when I’m reading it I feel like I’m getting to know you but then I think about it and using the previous example
me: right
Alex: a) everyone likes or dislikes certain bands and gets emotional about it b) everyone (at some point) gets a fucked toe and gets emotional about it I guess its your style of writing that makes it seem more personal question : if no-one likes your blog
me: it’s tricky manipulation thats actually not at all tricky, it’s concise
Alex: how do you make any money?
me: well tons of people love it im just focusing on the ones who claim not to cos im pessimistic
Alex: ah have you noticed that your old blogs the ones I read ages ago had much more of the outside world in them?
me: how so
Alex: well ok this is gonna sound vague cos it was 5 years ago but
me: you mean ive become more withdrawn
Alex: like I remember a hardware store? well I don’t want to use words like withdrawn cos for all I know
me: yeah i worked in one from the age of 15 off and on for 5 years
Alex: the 99.5% you don’t write about you’re running around mental
me: well i am more withdrawn now i try and picture myself out working with other people and it’s hard, ive become neurotic i spend a lot of time in my head
Alex: you have always been neurotic I can tell well from the blog anyway
me: yes well moreso now i guess but more of a laidback i think ive become more shy
Alex: yeah I can tell that too you’re very wary of the world its like you’re looking out a window unsure of whats going on
me: ive lost some self esteem along the way also
Alex: all of a sudden this is like dr phil
me: people are very mean and critical of me, when theyre nice theyre quite nice when theyre nasty it’s like what the hell i dont judge you no im sure of whats going on maybe too sure im always analyzing everything
Alex: but its from more of a distance now
me: ya well i did a lot of seedy shit and a lot of bad things happened in my past so what can i say i have a lot of anger still
Alex: “an artist creates their own moral universe”
me: right
Alex: well I just mean (actually, someone said that in a movie I watched the other night)
me: ha
Alex: bad seedy shit don’t matter hang on wtf who am I? don’t listen to me
me: i listen to people too much i let them get to me im too sensitive
speaking of housewives i finished reading sellevision last nite it’s great, very much so a guilty pleasure read, a bit unrealistic but burroughs pulls it off and if you have read dry by him you will notice a few similar references, no biggie. you will totally be forced to masturbate whilst reading certain parts, though. to sum up this book it is based on the world of home shopping tv and all the smarmy people involved in it and how phony the entire scene is, i feel like watching infomercials now. next i am reading magical thinking.
this one goes to all the housewives out there AND for all the wanksters talking shit about me, if you do it again this monster of a cat will come over to your house and lie down on your bed. you have been warned.
fuck i hate red hot chili peppers how do you take songs off of itunes? i was just spacing out came to and realised i listened to three songs by them w/o realising it. if you are my friend and you like them i’m sorry we can’t be close anymore sorry but you’re a wankster. if i am in a shit mood and red hot chili peppers comes on we will get in a fight and not talk for a week that’s the extent of it. i use to like them though.
my right big toe is fucked i tore part of my nail off last week and part of my toe came off too i know weird anyway it’s true so i have this clump of pulpy skin attached that won’t heal and yesterday after a shower i was walking in the dark trying to close the drapes and i walked into this asshole chair and blood exploded out of my toe and i called fil at work crying like a baby and asked him to bring home polysporin and band-aids. he got the no name polysporin to which i scoffed at and he said that shit’s expensive then i said WELL ADD IT TO THE BOOKS THEN JUST KNOW THAT I AM TAKING THE BAND-AIDS WITH ME WHEN WE BREAK UP. i get dramatic when i am bleeding because i am in miami vice and it’s do or die. i can’t walk as fast anymore and i will probably get an in-grown out of this. fun.
in other news my beaver is super hairy i am going to shave lightning bolts into it later.
we are working our way through guitar hero’s cooperative feature it’s fun cos samir let us borrow his guitar, you can do lead, rhythm or bass and we bought all the new guys and outfits and guitar finishes well all the cool ones, anyway.
then i played need for speed carbon for wii, we’ve had it since xmas but fil said it sucked. i took it upon myself to be the judge of that and it is actually pretty decent. you hold the remote sideways with the bottom of it facing the floor, holding it in both hands like a steering wheel. the game is something for losers with no friends (perfect for me) cos people in the game come up to your car and speak to you through the driver’s side window like you are friends and in their “crew” and you drive around together winning territory off other crews in this city that doesn’t exist. the people are pre-recorded actors that they added a lot of fancy colour effect to to make them look computer simulated, i dunno. so far i give this game a 7.
We were at like a baseball stadium and we were looking at concession stuff, and a guy came up and gave you a rubber penis keychain, telling me that nobody outside quebec had those. I don’t know how he knew you were ontarian. probably because you looked like one. Anyway, we went across the play field.
The stadium was filled with people.
I climbed up the fence at the end of the field first. I’m the hero of my dreams afterall. Then, when I was on top of the fence, which had a rather large ledge I now realize, I helped you climb up. While I helped fil to climb up, fil crouched on the wall, to give himself a swing, but instead, he let a wet fart out, which was loud and left a poo stain on the fence. I woke up laughing out loud.
