No Subject
Jan. 2nd, 2007 01:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jheti
It's a new year. What's to say?
The year is new. I've decided I'm going to pretend I'm twenty-five.
My stereo was jealous of my SWEET clock radio and melted down accordingly. I don't mind so much because I still have Sting and Cyndi Lauper and the odd power chord by Journey keeping me company. I just wish I chould KILL the automotive ads people.
My ride is the sweetest fuckin' ride there is. I don't need your filthy advertisements. Added to which, the modern dates on everything depress me utterly. (Yes, that sentence dangles, but you have to know grammar to notice.)
I have had enough of these motherfuckin' ads on this motherfuckin' station...Oooh, they're playing People Are People! *Grooves liek whoa.*
I am a hopeless case. Run, run quickly, pretend you never met me, there are pretty, popular girls on the other side of that gauntlet and I promise not to follow.
So far it hasn't surfaced
But I'm sure it exists
My feet hurt.
My office is now CLEAN. OMG. So pretty shiny new air freshener smelling nice nice clean. *purr.* ^___^ And the big ugly file cabinet is gone, and the wires are all fixed nicely to the wall, and so on.
I want coffee. My Starbucks mugs are l33t. I don't even like Starbucks, but I like the status-idea that comes with the coffee, this notion that I must somehow be a person of taste, or at least one of the herd, either of those are approximately equally nice now and then--that I have this seeming of status, loosely, as much as I understand it exists here--some slight status or shining-up-points, just because I have the mugs.
Of course that's shallow, but that's how life is. In the majority, living is very shallow and the things that make me happy are all small.
The big deep important things are mostly horrific or sad or both. I don't understand this--this currency of suffering...Currency as in money, as in exchange of power-status...
anyone lived in a pretty how town
with up so floating many bells down
Everyone says it's trickery and gimmick, his work, and the real trick of it is, you have to hear it right on the page. It helps to say it out loud, and then the words make sense. And they're pretty! ^_^ Floating silver bells, silver bells.
Merry New Year.
The year is new. I've decided I'm going to pretend I'm twenty-five.
My stereo was jealous of my SWEET clock radio and melted down accordingly. I don't mind so much because I still have Sting and Cyndi Lauper and the odd power chord by Journey keeping me company. I just wish I chould KILL the automotive ads people.
My ride is the sweetest fuckin' ride there is. I don't need your filthy advertisements. Added to which, the modern dates on everything depress me utterly. (Yes, that sentence dangles, but you have to know grammar to notice.)
I have had enough of these motherfuckin' ads on this motherfuckin' station...Oooh, they're playing People Are People! *Grooves liek whoa.*
I am a hopeless case. Run, run quickly, pretend you never met me, there are pretty, popular girls on the other side of that gauntlet and I promise not to follow.
So far it hasn't surfaced
But I'm sure it exists
My feet hurt.
My office is now CLEAN. OMG. So pretty shiny new air freshener smelling nice nice clean. *purr.* ^___^ And the big ugly file cabinet is gone, and the wires are all fixed nicely to the wall, and so on.
I want coffee. My Starbucks mugs are l33t. I don't even like Starbucks, but I like the status-idea that comes with the coffee, this notion that I must somehow be a person of taste, or at least one of the herd, either of those are approximately equally nice now and then--that I have this seeming of status, loosely, as much as I understand it exists here--some slight status or shining-up-points, just because I have the mugs.
Of course that's shallow, but that's how life is. In the majority, living is very shallow and the things that make me happy are all small.
The big deep important things are mostly horrific or sad or both. I don't understand this--this currency of suffering...Currency as in money, as in exchange of power-status...
anyone lived in a pretty how town
with up so floating many bells down
Everyone says it's trickery and gimmick, his work, and the real trick of it is, you have to hear it right on the page. It helps to say it out loud, and then the words make sense. And they're pretty! ^_^ Floating silver bells, silver bells.
Merry New Year.
