Cloudy mornings
2002-10-18 10:04:49 ET

We've been having the most beautiful cloudy mornings lately. I love grey skies. I got Ritchie Hawtin playing while I'm getting my caffiene fix, and all is well.

It's moving time again. Got to be out of this splendid house by November 27. Me and my main man Josh are looking for apts 'round the hood. Looks like $750 is gonna be the range we're looking at, which means $425 a piece...a little more than I pay now, but I can hack it. That may mean a little less chronic on the side, but that's probably a good thing.

I'm totally optimistic about this move. I don't know why, but I always move around these times: end of year/middle of year. And it always seems to happen at the right moment. One thing I'm totally gonna dread is the volume level at apts. We bump everynight here, and that's how I like it. It's gonna suck having to deal with neighbors. Josh don't give a fuck...he plays his music as loud as he feels necessary. That's all good, but for some reason, it seems that I'm always the one who has to talk to the landlord or the cops, which is actually a skill I've gotten better at. Talking to pigs is hard at just gotta remember that their anatomy is very close to ours. That's why they're good to dissect. You can learn a lot from pig guts.

For real though, I think this is gonna be great. More fun, less complications. More space emotionaly. This whole time here, I've kinda felt like me and Josh have been the backbone while others are going off on their tangents of self-realization/exploration/whatever. That's kinda why we're moving...others are finding that they want to chill out for a while and kinda get away from other people. I don't see it that way at all. I don't wanna chill. I don't want to be isolated. I wanna get this shit moving! I want more people, more ideas, more creativity!

I'm excited! I'm gonna make something cool right now. Have a nice day!

Nothing in particular
2002-10-17 22:18:28 ET

My house felt warm and homely tonight. My roomate Beth made us dinner and we watched "The Jerk." There was supossively an elitist, shmoozer party going on tonight, but I don't think twice about that shit. I only go to parties where people are down to rock shit. Shmoozers, elitists, and yuppies never smoke enough weed and never play bumping music. They always try to play fucking some Swedish shit like The Hives or International Noise Conspiracy, or they play Radiohead, and that just ain't doin me like I need to be done. It's not bad just don't turn me on. I don't think anyone is gonna feel me on this, and that's okay.

I'm scared to call this one girl. I don't know what to say. I don't normally have this problem...only with girls that really move shit for me. I want some real-time with this girl, but she lives in Venice and goes to an art school on a film major 5 days a week. I work on weekends, so I can't really do that whole thing, and the only times I might see her are at drum and bass clubs, where, by the time I see her, It's 2:00am and she's already 'bout to go and I'm 'bout to go, plus I'm really drunk most of the time, which isn't really part of the problem, but adds some sort of debilitating element to the equation. The times I have talked to her have been amazing in terms of content as well as the sort of heartfelt vibe that totally feels real to me. I don't know if anyone reads my shit, but if you do, please give me your two-cents. I am taking any donation.

Roots Manuva is really good
2002-10-17 09:44:43 ET

I just had a night of intense dreams. Granduer, scenic, and involving a lot of real people I know and don't know, as well as creatures I have seen and not seen before. Very emotional.

There was this animal thing that came around and was totally hyper and full of love; it looked like somesort of african anteater. I let it jump all over me.

The dream revolved around this epic sort of move from the city into this vast desert landscape that wasn't quite dry, as the canyons and deep valleys were lush and almost forest-like, with enourmous boulders growing wonderful moss. Many people were continuously climbing these rocks, and they all looked like yuppies.

We moved into a house and all sorts of people lived with us, but only some of us paid. Tons of boys and girls, most of whom I've never seen, living it up. I remember going to sleep in my dream outside on a little plateu, then waking up in my dream and frantically running home.

This dream ended in sadness, for I didn't want to leave this space, but at the same time knew I should because of some feeling of eminent danger lingering under the skin. I wanted to relate this idea to the others around me, but felt like a piece of shit 'cause I was leaving, so I didn't say anything, but instead consulted upon the eye-less, face-less, mother of this little creature thing that I had much respect for. It lived underground and was able to jump onto walls and stay suspended indefinately.

I woke up in real life, thought about it, and returned to the same dream, where I was with a little boy of myself and this little boy was demanding that I hold it. There was an asian woman watching us do this for some reason (she seemed to know this little boy of me). I held him and he insisted to be held tighter and tighter until I found myself squeezing him so hard that he could not speak, while I poured tears and tears. This was back in the city.

Now I'm feeling wierd. I got Roots Manuva playing loud and am 'bout to drink some coffee, eat some food, and skate to the libarary. Uhhhh...good morning.

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