Saturday- a brightm sunny, cool Saturday morning in Dundee, 'city of discovery' and Scotland's nicest least touristy city.
I live in an apartment that's like an art gallery- all cream walls, everything arranged in this almost flawless symetry- a place filled with art books, novels, music and art materials. The kitchen is always tidy save for the bay window which never contains less than seven varieties of tea. The window I sit next to as I write looks out on an old Victorian schoolyard. It's like being thrown into the middle of Dickens sometimes- uh, save for the sound of cars, I guess.
I saw a thread this morning, something to do with having 'different' ideas to the majority. It made me think about how I fit in with the people around me- how I used to fit in a lot more but find myself increasingly...
Singular.
Being 'different' is sometimes not all it's cracked up to be- I guess everybody needs to be similar in some ways otehrwise how on earth would we interact? All the same, we need individuality to make us interesting to each other.
Music is my 'thing', I'm becoming increasingly convinced. Some people have obvious streaks of indiduality and self-expression- facial piercings, funked up brightly colored hair, tats, homicidal tendencies, masochism, eccentricities and so forth- my 'thing' is maybe, just maybe, the music I listen to. The bizarre - and slightly depressing - notion of being pretty much alone in both listening to it and I guess appreciating it for someone of my age and gender.... How did I even come to it? I don't know anymore. What was it turned me off of so much contemporary music? Was it just needing something I couldn't find?
Maybe it's the influence of Iain, boyfriend and smartest person I've ever met. Iain the music-fascist who thinks all music proiduced since 1993 (music supposedly ends after 'August And Everything After' for him) is in some way 'inferior' and merely a pastiche of something that came before it. Iain who mourns the demise of the production values of Jimmy Miller, George Martin, Phil Spector, the quality of labels like TamlaMotown, Asylum, Elektra- and the poetry of people like Nick Drake, the narrative songwriters like Joni Mitchell, and the keen eyes of Bob Dylan.
He's 26 years old and even HE feels out of whack with his peers because of his tastes, his preferences.
Anyways- That's a ramble I could go off on for quite a few paragraphs more, but won't...
Iain is gone, and I have to go to work and sleep over at Fiona's tonight, getting under her feet... I miss him already. Why didn't I give him a hug before he went? Why did I have to act so pissed off? I'm not pissed off....
I miss him already.
Fuck I don't want to go to work today... I want to stay home and listen to records, read something.Finish 'High Fidelity' (again) bake something, read a newspaper from end to end, watch an old movie, take a long, long soak in the tub....
I feel old today. I feel like I want to just cut loose and go nuts. I can't. If I dye my hair pink I will most certainly get fired, I can't afford to get pierced right now- even though I kinda wanna...
I wanna go to Edinburgh sometime soon. It feels like it's been too long since I wandered around the National Gallery and all the smaller more hip ones, not to mention that I can't recall the last time I went out and actually splashed on myself... 'retail therapy', isn't that what they call it? I need some of that.
Just gotta get paid first... Just gotta get laid first.
And man, do I ever need to get fucking laid...
I live in an apartment that's like an art gallery- all cream walls, everything arranged in this almost flawless symetry- a place filled with art books, novels, music and art materials. The kitchen is always tidy save for the bay window which never contains less than seven varieties of tea. The window I sit next to as I write looks out on an old Victorian schoolyard. It's like being thrown into the middle of Dickens sometimes- uh, save for the sound of cars, I guess.
I saw a thread this morning, something to do with having 'different' ideas to the majority. It made me think about how I fit in with the people around me- how I used to fit in a lot more but find myself increasingly...
Singular.
Being 'different' is sometimes not all it's cracked up to be- I guess everybody needs to be similar in some ways otehrwise how on earth would we interact? All the same, we need individuality to make us interesting to each other.
Music is my 'thing', I'm becoming increasingly convinced. Some people have obvious streaks of indiduality and self-expression- facial piercings, funked up brightly colored hair, tats, homicidal tendencies, masochism, eccentricities and so forth- my 'thing' is maybe, just maybe, the music I listen to. The bizarre - and slightly depressing - notion of being pretty much alone in both listening to it and I guess appreciating it for someone of my age and gender.... How did I even come to it? I don't know anymore. What was it turned me off of so much contemporary music? Was it just needing something I couldn't find?
Maybe it's the influence of Iain, boyfriend and smartest person I've ever met. Iain the music-fascist who thinks all music proiduced since 1993 (music supposedly ends after 'August And Everything After' for him) is in some way 'inferior' and merely a pastiche of something that came before it. Iain who mourns the demise of the production values of Jimmy Miller, George Martin, Phil Spector, the quality of labels like TamlaMotown, Asylum, Elektra- and the poetry of people like Nick Drake, the narrative songwriters like Joni Mitchell, and the keen eyes of Bob Dylan.
He's 26 years old and even HE feels out of whack with his peers because of his tastes, his preferences.
Anyways- That's a ramble I could go off on for quite a few paragraphs more, but won't...
Iain is gone, and I have to go to work and sleep over at Fiona's tonight, getting under her feet... I miss him already. Why didn't I give him a hug before he went? Why did I have to act so pissed off? I'm not pissed off....
I miss him already.
Fuck I don't want to go to work today... I want to stay home and listen to records, read something.Finish 'High Fidelity' (again) bake something, read a newspaper from end to end, watch an old movie, take a long, long soak in the tub....
I feel old today. I feel like I want to just cut loose and go nuts. I can't. If I dye my hair pink I will most certainly get fired, I can't afford to get pierced right now- even though I kinda wanna...
I wanna go to Edinburgh sometime soon. It feels like it's been too long since I wandered around the National Gallery and all the smaller more hip ones, not to mention that I can't recall the last time I went out and actually splashed on myself... 'retail therapy', isn't that what they call it? I need some of that.
Just gotta get paid first... Just gotta get laid first.
And man, do I ever need to get fucking laid...
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
hope things work out for you honey!
this is so long! *rant alert*big spew ahead*
to hell with peer groups and demographics.
i think that i have never found more than a few people with whom i could be truly close, and only slightly more who are worth having as any kind of friend. sure, the squares are nice enough, but they scare too easily, and i can tell they couldn't keep their wits about them if the fit hit the shan. i live with the vague notion that i am a true native of earth and everyone else is from another planet.
so i love the fact that i am into shit that almost no one else has ever heard of. example: one of my all-time favourite albums is called "vox orbita." i have never in my life, in hundreds of record shops, ever seen another copy besides mine. ever. and my man is a record junkie, so i've had plenty of chances. but it is totally one of my desert island discs.
music is part of the fabric of who you are. most modern music is, without a doubt, shite derivitive nonesuch. there was some kind of illness that took over after 1993. i got into electronic music at this time because rock sucked skanky ass. i found out that i love dancing, and the gorgeous intricacy of really quality techno massaging my brain. oh yeah, and there were some drugs taken...ahem...but these are all formative experiences that have taken me to where i am today. so revel in your aloneness! it's heaps better than "fitting in" particularly if you think society is a bit of a joke to begin with. who WANTS to listen to mariah carey albums, hang out at the mall, worrying about "those people" mailing you anthrax and ignoring the gaping wound where your soul got ripped out? certainly no one i would have as a friend.