and i don’t really know why. i went to Lou’s place for a meeting about the artbeat launch/exhibition, and it was great. caught up with two different Chris’s, met Helen and Andrew, we all talked about the works we’re exhibiting..
when i got home, i crashed. i mean, after such a good night, i’m now feeling more than depressed. for no apparent reason. its just… ‘melancholy’ probably describes it best.
actually, there was a catalyst for this mood i’m in. i had a mild anxiety attack on the way home. no idea why, really. though, i guess it had something to do with the dark back street, and a general distrust of the world. there was something else i found out when i got home as well, but i don’t really feel like talking about it.
my dreams are insane. after the one i had this morning, i woke up with a migraine. i won’t describe the dream, it was too complex and convoluted to relate in any lingual form. but it was intense.
i’ve got some Bjork playing.. its probably not helping my mood, but it feels good. i just deleted a heap of old emails i should have deleted 4 months ago, and i’m contemplating trashing a heap more…. not just emails, but pics, logs, songs, just stuff that’s cluttering my hard drive. i’ve got about 573mb of personal files on this thing.. that’s not including programs, email user data, or mp3’s (the emails themselves are about 56mb; the mp3’s that i have on this computer total 400mb or so, and i’ve burnt a hell of a lot; programs, i don’t even want to think about… then there’s all the film stuff..sheesk.).. so, just the writing, logs and other odd stuff i’ve collected, site backups, art images, other pics, music (my own), artbeat files, and stuff friends have sent me = 6,747 items in total.
ooh, The Whitlams..
there’s no aphrodisiac like loneliness,
bare feet like a tom-boy, and a crooked smile,
truth, youth, beauty, fame, boredom, red hair,
no hair, innocence, Saturday, and a picture of you..
a letter to you on a cassette
you shouldn’t leave me alone..
forty, shaved, sexy, wants to do it all day,
with a gun-totin’, trigger-happy tranny named Kinky-Renee..
tired teacher, twenty-eight, seeks regular meetings,
for masculine, muscular, nappy-clad brutal breeding,
while his wife rough-wrestles with a puppy,
all aquiver on a wine-soaked, strobe-lit, Asiatic
hall of mirrors, and a dash of loneliness..
there’s no aphrodisiac quite like it……
truth, youth, beauty, fame, boredom, red hair,
no hair, innocence, impunity, and a picture of you,
i got a video set-up, me love you short time,
she pay me suck his finger with some fine wine…
and a dash of loneliness….
i love that song…