Plain White Day

When I was little, we had an enormous collection of recorded VHS tapes of all kinds of movies and tv shows in our study. In particular, I remember the, I imagine them to be like Clydesdales, HEAVY tapes that must have been six or eight hours long, that my dad would mass-record onto. A string of movies like, Dumbo, Mary Poppins, Volcanoes, My Little Pony, Swiss Family Robinson, Flight of the Navigator. I could sit and watch one of those all day. I think I fast forwarded through Volcanoes pretty much every time, though. It was a little scary.
But I did like the volcano section in Fantasia. That was another one on a tape of six other movies. I think that Star Fairies was on that one at the end. And Care Bears.
But the volcanoes in Fantasia, they looked like they were spewing something delicious. With the rocks crumbling away as the lava poured over them, it was sort of like....meat and cheese or something. Some sort of delicious food made up in my imagination. I wasn't so fond of the part at the end though, where the lava runs into the ocean and there is so much smoke, I suppose it wasn't as appetizing. Like offering someone a steamy cup of water when they're hungry.
It's funny how none of this means anything, but it's all still stored away in there, a totally useless reference. Its only purpose seems to be for passing amusement. I wish it meant something. It would be nice to piece together all these tiny things, strands and bits into some dumb art project. Then could you stand back and say, "Ha! I'm done." No, it sucks because you keep living. Things keep happening and you think, but I have all these things here, look, this book I made, but NO it doesn't matter, things are happening, with or without your bad poetry, your shitty sculpture, your stupid scribblings.
I wonder when I got so pessimistic.

How Lost You Wouldn't Feel

I feel a rush of sentimentality coming on, but I can't help it.

I'm sort of listening in to a couple of girls having a conversation, funny how other people's lives can be unknowingly observed, speculated upon, sympathized with, how often just hearing an exchange or seeing a gesture can turn my own existence into a fluttery, emotional mess.

And I think I've been listening to people a lot today. At lunch. At work. Even when nothing is going on in my life, there are a million thoughts being exchanged, revelations being made, relationships being broken or mended, thousands of, for a lack of a better word, I have to use film's reference to "beats" and, I guess continuing what I started, climaxes, denouements, turning points and resolutions revolving and falling into place, little wheel cogs, little metal gears that I imagine would fall to a concrete floor with a shower of ringing clinks, tiny tiny gears.

See what I mean?

The first girl is sitting with her friend, explaining to her a breakup with her boyfriend. As she talks, her voice falls into a slight tremor at times, like she's holding back more than she can let out. She has taken the tea bag out of her mug and is sifting through its contents, laying out little piles of different herbs and what look like smooth round seeds. She doesn't look at her friend, but is intensely focused on her hands' idle work.

Her friend sits close to her, her eyes never leaving her face, as if she's trying to see past her eyes into what I suppose is HER. Who can tell, really?
There is definitely love there. Good to see that.
And also so amazing, like a synapse popping into alignment, how familiar, deja vu into another life. Makes me wonder if there are these connections with everyone, between everyone. Maybe just that I have turned my head in just that same way as the man in the plaid shirt in the corner, placed my hand on my forehead, exhaled. I feel it's likely.

While I'm thinking about it, who else has drank out of this mug? In a glamorized way, it's a touchstone, connecting trailing strands of existence. But isn't it nice to glamorize. Why not make everything a little more beautiful, a little more bright, even if you may be a fool for it?

What if everyone, for a moment, could pay attention when you say, Hello? and answer in a reverberating chorus, Yes.

I Don't Make Mistakes

When will we wear wigs?
Someone remind me where that's from.

I apologize (to the probably like 2 people who read my blog) for the prolonged absence of new material here. What can I say? I had an aneurysm. It was delicious.

Something I was thinking about today, how when you say "Oh man" it means you're disappointed, when you say "oh boy" it means you're excited, "oh girl" you're about to give someone somewhat condescending advice, and ...."oh woman"...? hmmm. What does it all mean?

Speaking of language, I was recently having a very interesting conversation with a friend about how words, or labels, are really the basis of society in a lot of ways. What's amazing is that words are made up and thus society and culture and everything we deal with on a daily basis is all a giant imaginative complex linked between everyone's heads.
I'm sort of imagining a structure like the one Dr. Manhattan makes on Mars, but bigger and more complex, less spherical, well it's not really that much like it nevermind.

I've recently been compiling a mental list of things that make me happy so that when I go back to my cave of an apartment I don't lose all lust for life and drown myself in my sink. I'm sure pretty much all of these things are universal, but sometimes the most obvious things slip your mind when you feel like God himself is reaching his fucking arm through just to push you down. (The Wretched...anyone?)

Anyway, here are some:


Reading Comics

Especially X-Men. My favorite character is Jean Grey. Appropriately enough, my least favorite is Emma Frost. What a bitch!
Also, I like how this issue actually has nothing to do with Wolverine and Cyclops fighting over Jean, no matter what the cover implies.

Eating
(This is a delicious chocolate cakey dessert I had at Corazon on 5th and Baylor)

I. Love. Food. There is no substitute. And of course, food is always best when you're with other people with whom you can discuss how great food is. If only my stomach was infinite. Or I didn't mind being mistaken for Jabba the Hut.


Flying kites

When it's sunny out, that yellow sunny, there is nothing more I like than to be outside running, watching a colorful frame of nylon soar into a clear sky.

Here is another thing (I already linked this on Frances's blog but it's just so wonderful) that always makes me happy:

It's okay. Let's go to sleep.

Super Exciting Top of the Morning

First off,
I'm VERY excited, because, upon closer examination of my latest issue of ReadyMade, I saw an ad for their SXSW event!!
As it is described:
Live acoustic performances, hands-on project stations (ooh boy!), exciting sweepstakes, gift bags & more!
Anyway, I'm totally going to be there, Saturday the 21st 11am - 4pm (yes the whole time) at Halcyon. I hope they'll be serving s'mores as well...

Equally exciting, my tires were slashed for the fourth time in the past month. YES!
Seriously, if I see you, I will without hesitation mace you and then pursue you down the alley with my recurve. I'm a VERY good shot, you motherfucker.
The van just looks so sad.

A huge thanks to Rhea who introduced me to the best movie I've seen since.....the one I watched the night before?
Anyway, Survive Style 5+ is full of delicious sets and warm fuzzy love with just the right amount of black humor and surrealism. I definitely want whoever was in charge of the production design to decorate my future home. This film feels like happy giggly balloons floating in your stomach.
Plus, the soundtrack is really good. Too bad it's like $30 because it's so crazy foreign. Seriously, the dvd title menu is in Japanese.




A list of things that are on my kitchen table right now:
laptop
note from mom
nail polish
scissors
squishy lucky cat

I Had A Dream Last Night (Whatever)

My dreams have been giving me no rest from the absurd and bizarre lately. Maybe it's good for me. I feel like my subconscious always knows what's up. Better than I do, anyway.
I can't wait to take some animation classes, I'm suddenly so inspired! If I knew how, I'd animate some of this weird shit. But let's see what I can convey using a picture from the first page of a google images search.
So, in the past two weeks there has been:

a werewolf man who I failed to kill with my bow and arrow:

strangely enough, he WAS dressed in Native American tribal stuff


a live palm-sized fish that I had to eat alive, which turned out to have a woman's face:

This is totally unrelated.


slitting a friend's throat vertically with a knife:



this is actually a chick, I think, which is very sad but I'd say equally as disturbing


being on top of the twin towers, which were taller than usual and swaying dangerously in the wind:


they were thinner and scarier than this. Plus, slippery, and I really thought I was going to die.


large panthers that were trying to brainwash Frances's cat Charlie:



Charlie:


That one ended with me having to hammer a spike into Charlie's brain without destroying it....

Thank god I woke up.

Anyway, if you haven't ever read it, you definitely need to check out ReadyMade magazine. It's absolutely spectacular and makes you wish you had a house to build or a trailer to refurbish. For real. And it just has really good intuitive tips for everyday life. I love it!

How cool is this??


Yeah...
If anyone wants to make a bookshelf or a house or something, please let me know.

Fighting Whitey

As I'm pretty sure no one would appreciate hearing what's going through my head right now (actually pretty much nothing), I'm just going to talk about the movies I've seen in the past week or so. Week? How many times have I been to I Luv Video this week? Who knows.
Let's see....

There has been a preponderance of blaxploitation amid my recent viewings. Which is great!

First off, there's Superfly, which I was expecting to be about a hardass drug dealer who kicks white ass. Which is almost entirely true but he actually turned out to be somewhat of a softie when it came down to it. I think I recall a scene in which he was watching children play in the park with his girlfriend with a sort of longing but entirely unsexual look. I know, right?
Also, the soundtrack is THE SHIT. I actually went home after watching that movie and picked up my bass for the first time in months.

Anyway, his mustache says it all.




Then I watched Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song (three a's, five s's.) While I guess I can see how this film jump started the whole blaxploitation cycle in some aspects, it mostly just came off to me like a French New Wave film. Most of the actions scenes that are so prominent in the other films are pretty much masked or subverted by the abundance of overlays, psychadelic color contrasts, and discontinuous editing. There is a good amount of (apparently unprotected) sex, during which the actor acquired some gonorrhea. Leaves you wondering which one of those girls gave it to him... My money's on the red-headed chick with the really bad tan. Anyway, it's really a good film, definitely gives you something to think about. But if all you're looking for is some ridiculous violence and funky outfits, it's there, I guess, but you'll have to sift through a whole lot of artsy stuff to get to it.


This is pretty much what he looks like for the entire film. Except when he opens his mouth to deliver his 6 or so lines. "Fuck."

Foxy Brown I'd have to say is probably my favorite out of the three. Maybe it's because I love girls who beat the shit out of people. Or maybe I was just in the right mood. But either way, it's undeniable that Pam Grier is superhot and has an amazing wardrobe in this film. Plus, someone's dick gets cut off. Whoops! Oh who cares. Anyway, if nothing else, this film demonstrates the functionality of the afro as a great place to hide guns.


damn.

Taken a DEEP Breath, Breathe

Ahhhh.....
What a sledgehammer and some unnecessary wall can't solve.
Thanks to a cosmic meeting between me and my sister's friend Jen, I got to break things this weekend, thus bringing me to a state of inner Zen. Ohh it feels goooooood.
Here is the room full of my quelled rage:



I love half-finished houses. And the idea of smashing up the old and pasting over it clean, new slates.



And physical labor is so much more infinitely satisfying that so many other kinds of work. I need to remember to make things with my hands more often.

Anyway, Jen also introduced me to a cafe that I've been missing out on, like, forever. Progress! I need to remember to explore more, too.
Everything is biodegradable and environmentally friendly and the sun shines in the windows and on the deck. Everything I could possibly want, plus Dublin Dr. Pepper and Mexican Coke. LOVE



Also this week,
My dad hosted a cheesecake get-together thing and was doubtless ecstatic to learn that Frances plays the piano. Many duets ensued.



I'm pretty satisfied at this juncture. I started a really good Murakami book, and realized I need to remember to READ. It always makes me feel so much smarter. Makes me have ideas and think. Fancy that. But seriously, it's so necessary.

Also, I'm totally in love with this song and this music video. Someday, I'm going to learn how to do this sort of thing.
I promise.

Wump Wump, or, Varmints

I'm not sure how good I was at throwing tantrums when I was little, but right now I feel like I could really do some damage. In particular, I want to punch through a wall of glass, rip up carpet, tear something alive into little pieces, in general just AAARRRRRRGHHH.
I heard about this place in California this lady started where you can go and smash things. You can bring your own things to destroy or they have plates there you can write on and break. You can even have them play a cd in the room while you destruct! Why isn't there one here?

OK. I just bit the hell out of my tongue. Seriously?
Anyway.

I guess in the theme of recent posts I should talk about the movies I've seen lately.
Let's see.....

There's Trainspotting, which I did really enjoy, even though it took me a good half hour to begin to comprehend what the characters were saying through their Scottish accents. But definitely very visually appealing and imaginative and creepy where it needed to be. Unfortunately, you could totally tell that baby was a robot. But I guess a dead robot zombie baby is even scarier in its own way. Awesome soundtrack, as well. Ewan McGregor is surprisingly attractive as an undernourished drug addict with dark circles under his soulful eyes. MMmmmm.



This is him coming out of the dirtiest toilet ever.

What with this and Requiem for a Dream I think I can safely say I'm never taking heroin. Whew.

On Valentine's, I, oddly enough, ventured beyond the walls of my apartment to go with my friends to see a series of animated shorts all nominated for Academy Awards this year at the Alamo. If it's still playing, I highly recommend it. It's so rare that there's a chance to see short film in a theater, and these are particularly good (duh...). I think it's a much under-appreciated medium. There's a real art to being able to tell a story that's powerful, moving, and satisfying in five minutes. Not that they're all five minutes. They just have to be under 30. But jesus, I cried during one of them. CRIED. That never happens. During a short animated film? What? I don't know.

A lot of them are really cute or funny and just make you giggly or squirmy, but there are a couple that are really just beautifully sad. Then there's a couple weird ones. And this one bad one. But just ignore that.
I think my favorite was (let's just disregard the one I cried during) "Octopadi" which was just incredibly fun and fast-paced and about OCTOPUSSES! Yes.



Lastly, I rented Showgirls the other day, which was... interesting. Totally ridiculous. I was just looking for some nice pole-dancing shots and maybe some obligatory sex and violence. But wow. Along came some really ramped up dialogue and strange lesbian innuendos. And when Elizabeth Berkley's dancing, it's really not so much seductive as violently homicidal. Or suicidal? Either way it looks painful and not at all attractive. The point where I was pretty much disengaged was when she gives her employer a whip-lash inducing lap dance that climaxes in her flopping around like a giant trout fighting for life out of water and him jizzing his pants. Charming.



If you had to miss out on one of these three movie events, I think you should opt out of the third.

Sigh.
Back to real life.

8 & a Little More Than Half

I've had a really sort of unfair prejudice against old Italian films for quite a while, which I've been trying to get over. I think it all started with 8 1/2, which I saw in high school at the Underground Film Organization screening. (dude, what awesome shirts we had....) I don't think a group high school setting is the best to try and receive that film. I decided to give it another chance a couple days ago, and it was actually really enjoyable. It did help that I understood a lot of the Italian under the subtitles and I watched the intro by Terry Gilliam, with whom I am in love...and he persuaded me to like it. I never noticed, but he does emulate scenes from that film a LOT.

Brazil, the guy flying with a chain bolting him to the ground? Hmmm....

The thing is, Gilliam's film is so much more colorful and easily engaging to me, being a product of the technicolor culture that raised me. Brazil is one of my favorite movies. Oh shit, I didn't even notice this, but an alternate title for it is "1984 and 1/2" Dur.
Actually, I'd just like to take a moment to acknowledge how incredible that movie is. I was always in love with it for its great visual imagery and that wonderful fantastical metaphor running through the whole thing. Also, the ducts. I think Gilliam has a real knack for pinpointing everything that's already a bit grotesque or suppressive in our society and blowing it up into a gruesome picture that is awful but undeniably right on the mark, and also sort of evilly funny.
Not only that, but it's full of all kinds of secret messages to people who are looking, like the almost exact recreation of the Odessa Steps sequence from Battleship Potemkin with a vacuum cleaner and that lady being shot in the eye.

AAAHHHH soooo cool.

But anyway, 8 1/2 addressed a lot of things that interest me a lot about films and filmmaking. It's very self-aware, and while I used to complain about its pretentiousness, I now feel really really dumb because of course that's the fucking point. But then, isn't every film just a little pretentious even in that it is being made because people expect you want to see it? Anyway, this particular film went way more in depth into that exploration of creation and the links it has to human experience and memory. It's actually a little scary almost, how you can become the films you make. Or is it vice-versa?
Anyway, if one evening you're feeling very patient and a bit existential, run on down to I Luv and GET THAT SHIT. You'll feel infinitely smarter after having watched it and paid attention. Yeah, you can sort of tune out for the last like ten minutes of people dancing around in a circle. Italians like their films long and long. LLoooooooooonnng. But not as long as Berlin Alexanderplatz.

Can Movie Move, Move

My blog is feeling rather lonely. I think maybe it needs to find some new hobbies or something. Get up off its ass and DO some LIFE.
But that's just my opinion.

Aside from that, I think I've taken probably 100+ pictures of clouds in the past two days, which is a personal record. So. Cool.
Wow.

Every time I listen to Sebastien Tellier's Roche, I'm totally inspired to make the world's sexiest beautifulest music video.
Maybe I'll get around to that.



I went to see He's Just Not That Into You last night with pretty low expectations, but surprisingly, it was actually very good. First of all, I really really really do NOT like Jennifer Aniston. But I can honestly say I liked her in this film. Either she's mellowing out in her older age or she just consciously made the decision to take horrible roles and act horribly in them for the past decade, and finally realized she was being stupid. Anyway, the film is verging on being creatively different from other chick flicks with its relative honesty and refreshing criticism of prevailing female logic. Sort of empowering in a way. I'm not so much for the overall "everybody eventually finds somebody and is a happybody" idea at the end (though there are three characters left single at the end) as I am for the whole "it's really simple, if he's not calling and making things happen he doesn't like you." Dur. But I guess a lot of us sort of need a smack in the face to bring us back to logic sometimes. In the form of an entertaining romantic comedy. If for no other reason, see it because Scarlett Johansson is the most beautiful person I have ever seen and she's IN THIS MOVIE.

Also, I finally watched Old Boy with Frances. Or rather, I watched it while Frances sat near me and snoooozed.
And I do see the similarities between it and Kill Bill, but I don't feel so much as Tarantino ripped it off as much as he was referencing it. There were definitely a couple scenes that were unmistakeable nods to Old Boy, like taking 70 steps to die. I thought that was a really clever reference. Anyway, they're both really good movies, though I must say that I think Old Boy was a lot more painful. Ow.



If you're at all into this kind of stuff, I think DJ Spooky's Rebirth of a Nation at the Alamo on the 15th looks really awesome. The original film is so frustratingly miopic that I'd be really interested in seeing what sort of direction Spooky takes it in. Plus, I love the idea of mixing media. The more senses involved in art, the better. Taste, anyone? Scratch and lick art?
YEAH

Snapperoptipus

So, the Batman soundtrack is just determined to keep coming up on shuffle, damnit. Whatever.
I was just reading up on Capricorn on www.astrologyindepth.com and jesus it scares me sometimes how right it is. I mean yeah, sometimes things are sort of a stretch, but I'm totally a dope for that shit. Anyway, I sort of see the sign as like a starting point and you can sort of bend the edges in different directions, ending up with some sort of bizzare amorphous shape uniquely your own. Thus, everyone is different.
But I think it's safe to say that me and Cancers were meant to be life-long lovers and Scorpios have a soft little place in my heart reserved just for them.
Also, I was happy to discover my old friend, Limber Louie, in my mom's storage unit when we were clearing it out. He's a sort of ostrich/llama/muppet thing that is undeniably the coolest giant puppet that I have ever owned.
I also ran into lots of other old relics from my childhood, like my extensive collection of stuffed animals, plastic animals, and other animal paraphernalia. There was some spray-paint poster thing I made in 7th grade that's a depiction of Orthanc and Shadowfax, and a collage of arbitrary pictures and movie quotes. Also some very, very dead Converse shoes. I've thus found myself reflecting a lot on my younger years. I seriously SERIOUSLY wanted to be a wolf. Also, I had a really stupid, cheeky sense of humor that drives me crazy now, but I'm sure I thought was terribly clever then. I also sort of had a tendency to try to cultivate eccentricity and artisticness in myself that only resulted in me being a huge phony.
It's funny how little I've changed...
Anyway, now all the artifacts of my past are traveling around with me, stashed in my van. And I kind of like showing people. It's strange connecting the past to the present, sort of experimenting and seeing how you can draw diagonal lines through years. Then how each line takes on a form itself in the present... I think I could spend forever just thinking about life. Good thing I have a low tolerance for attending to deep thought for a long period of time. Haha
I feel like my world is expanding. And I like it. I want to follow it out to the borders, keep pushing it. I want to start going places. Shake up the kaleidoscope.
Here are some pictures from my beautiful day:

It's Like a Robot, Apparently.

I have a feeling I'm going to forget to pick up my film at CVS.
Today I spent probably three or so hours sorting through footage of guys picking tomatoes and rearranging it. Welcome to the exciting and stimulating world of editing!
But in all seriousness, I do like it. It's all organizational. In fact I was so inspired last night I went back and re-organized all my clips and sequences for all my previous video projects.
Also, I would advise you to keep your eyes peeled for an upcoming YouShi! commercial, coming soon to a technical device that connects to the internet near you.
As an aside, ("I'm having a great time." -- to quote my dad.)
I think the key here is making plans. Such as, sometime this week I plan on making some shrinky-dink earrings. If you haven't ever used shrinky-dink stuff, you HAVE TO. It IS happiness.
I also plan on watching a movie. And making eggs with salsa and chips which I will no longer dare to call migas for fear of shaming myself in front of people who apparently make REAL migas.
I've started sleeping diagonally on my bed, I'm not sure why. But it's great! How wonderfully plentiful the possibilities are for sleeping positions.
Maybe this does have something to do with all the strange dreams I've been having. But then, I guess that's sort of normal for me. Sometime I think I might like to try to be hypnotized, because I think my subconscious has some things it desperately wants to say.
The most recent thing I can remember dream-wise is Brad Pitt and Matt Damon making out. And me just feeling way too close to the situation. The next most recent involves a masturbating caribou.
No, I'm not clever enough to make this up in my waking life.
HHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Find Your Power Animal, Inc.

Thanks a lot. Now I'm thinking about tattoos again.
I suppose it's not so bad. I could be thinking about crack or something instead.
But there are so many pictures and words, I'm not sure which one I'd want to be a part of me. Sometimes I wonder about closer, but I think it's good. If anything, it's good to decide on something for life. That's a huge fucking deal.
Thrilling. How exciting would it be to pick your life out from a number of different options and preferences and tastes and smells, like a fruit stand or configuring a mac. I feel like mine would be very clean. Actually my mac is very clean. It's like that.
I was thinking lately again about my power animal. I'm like that. Things like astrology and tarot cards really get me sometimes. But it's nothing serious. Don't worry. I'm not into crystal balls. BALLS
But when it comes down to it, there's a wolf and there's this mountain goat/ram thing. One sort of makes sense in general and the other sort of doesn't, but rather appeared out of some cloudy supernatural place I'm embarrassed sometimes to admit I have encased in my brain.
Ok, next time I use the word brain, I'm going to punch myself.
But the point is, I can't figure it out.

So which is it:



or




Hmmmm?

My Lips are Chapped but My Fingers are Not

Well, I feel at least something has changed. I like that.
I'm feeling more motivated than usual. I've made a few plans for the recent and upcoming futures, and I like the idea of them. And I think I'm going to do them.

They include, but do not stop at:
-learning how to use the fondue pot
-cooking meat
-painting that subjective cartography I've held onto for three years
-taking pictures
-admitting when I don't know something

I think for everyone's sanity, and in an attempt to make my blog more aesthetically pleasing, I'll try to post a picture or two. Everyone loves a picture. Aren't they so much easier to read?

I guess I didn't notice but I really have a flair for exploitation films.
Also, I'm very glad I finally have a die (that would be the singular form of dice...). It is everything I ever wanted it to be. The curse of my indecisiveness is ended.

I've suddenly found myself overcome with a desire to learn things. Anything. Everything. Do you realize how much stuff there is to know? And how everything you look at has a history and a chemistry to it? There is so much! I guess this is the reason documentary film interests me so much. I could decide to find out how gummi bears are made and make a whole damn film on it. Anything. I love that sort of endlessness. I still remember some of those short documentaries they would show in picture-picture on Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. Like the one about crayons. Especially the one about crayons. The melted, orange wax rippling like a creek. That's important.
Hm. I'm a little frustrated with my tone right now, and I wonder if it's apparent. I'll have to find better ways of talking.

Enjoy the obligatory picture.

Brains and the Usual, Strange, Watch Out!

Requiem for a Dream. I just realized how the title of my blog is similar...
I haven't been this shaken up by a movie in a very long time. I think somehow film can get in your brain so much more than any other medium. A very powerful thing. I guess you have to be careful.
Jesus I'm so glad there's no reason I would ever be addicted to heroin. Unless I guess if someone forced me to take it. But I'm not really sure that sort of situation would ever arise in my life. Holy shit.
I don't want to lose my brain! That's like everything. It's the only thing keeping you connected, like a thin thready umbilical cord. Who just doesn't care enough to keep that? Aren't they scared?
That is the only thing! After that's gone, you're just a sitting heap of skin.
I guess what happens is that stuff gets disconnected from what you're doing, you're just doing this thing. This thing, it makes you feel good. Good. Good Good good Good. What else can you do?
No, I want to keep my brain. I like it being clean and pink. Or yellow. Or whatever color normal brains are. Brain. Why do I always talk about brains? They are everything! This is my brain! I am my brain. Oh how my philosophy professor would be proud.
Ok I need to do something totally normal and human.
God I'm going to have nightmares tonight.

Parrot Fish Sleep in a Bubble of Mucus.

Damn. I should have written the rest about my trip while I still had the momentum. But this is how it goes. Now I feel like it's all old news and no longer of interest to my brain or worth the calories to move my fingers to type out or move my mouth to talk about.
BBBlaaah.
But maybe it'll just come up like anecdotes later and be more interesting that way, told in little niblets, not a four course meal where you're just too full to move.
Anyway I feel like the majority of what I got out of that trip isn't anything to do with what happened per se. So it's appropriate I suppose.
Mostly I just have some strange new emotions I don't think I've ever had before since I got back. Something interesting, new emotions. God how many are there? Too subtle a thing to number.
Re-reading that it sounds like I'm going through puberty or something. I'm really glad that's over.
I hate the word puberty, by the way.
But strangely enough, just as I felt that the world had gotten suddenly giant when I got to Germany, I feel like it has shrunk uncomfortably, coming back. Suddenly my favorite jeans are just a little too tight, this room a little too small, this chair a little too short. I want to stand up, stretch, run. And yet I don't feel like moving. I move my mind instead. Which doesn't really work, I think. I keep just coming up against brick walls. And it comes down to, I still don't know any more than I did last year or the year before or ten years ago. I'm still in this perpetual state of not knowing, trying to guess or "figure" or estimate. It's only times like these that it's paralyzing. Where have my decisions been coming from? How did I ever even make it to where I am without even knowing if I like chocolate or vanilla better? These things puzzle me.
But yes, blah blah, no one ever knows, we're all searching.... okay but doesn't everyone feel like their emotions are so much more powerful and meaningful than everyone else's? We live in our brains. And we're the only people who live there. So yes, they are more important. They are more powerful. They are us. So it does matter that I can't figure it out. Maybe you can't either, but hey now, what about meeeeeee
Whoever said solipsism is wrong? Isn't it good to be selfish in the best sense of the word?

The point was, I don't feel comfortable any more. Suddenly, home is gone, just like in Garden State, I can't tell you how scarily accurate that movie is sometimes. I just sort of wish, in my snobishness that it was something more obscure or directed by someone with a last name I can't pronounce. Ok, it's fine, I'll be mainstream. Shit!

Just Put It In Your Mouth

I didn't die anyways.
This is the last night in Berlin. I'm feeling a little bit too queasy to write something summing up the last few days... But maybe later.
Just a few highlights:
karaoke, expensive night clubs, indecent exposure, puking times 2, general coldness and snow.