words, words, words
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If I begin to detail myself here, will you understand?
P. I am me
Q. I don't always know exactly who that is
R. I am Quaker
S. I like words and playing with them
T. I like genmaicha tea
U. I like the word napkin more than most others
V. I spend time walking my neighborhood
W. I cook rice often
X. I sleep well most every night
Y. I eat large amounts of fruit and vegetables
Z. I munch, sleep, write, create, cook, bike, watch, walk, listen, hope, learn, drink, live, breathe, touch, know, question, taste, copy, read, stare, carry, talk, dance, finger, try.
raisin@gmail.com
albums:
Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs
Erasure: I Say, I Say, I Say
Depeche Mode: Black Celebration
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
Marvin Gaye: What's Going On?
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
George Michael: Listen without Prejudice
George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess
Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out
songs:
Wild is the Wind: Nina Simone
Come Undone: Duran Duran
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini: Rachmaninov
My Funny Valentine: Chet Baker
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate: The Flaming Lips
This Must Be the Place: The Talking Heads
Hyperballad: Bjork
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Thursday, February 27, 2003
I found this somewhere, i can't remember where now, but I like it, so i'm sharing.
"Outside, a line has formed, stretching down the block. Kids sprawl on the concrete, drape themselves on the side of the club, take up room the way only high schoolers can. Even from here you can feel the suck of their longing, the weight of the secrets that they dare confess only to Conor Oberst (or Conor Oberst). Maybe years from now they'll be known as members of the generation startled out of puberty by 9/11. Or maybe we will know these kids, or their peers, as the ones who fought in the streets of Baghdad. But one thing is clear: if any generation ever needed a new Bob Dylan, this is the one."
1:40 PM
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