Kate Bush
Kate comes to us in a daze. A haze of cellophane panes, unexplained. Unimagined. I have found that the easiest way to embrace her is to ignore her, to encompass her in silence and take her to the next level of concept. Melodramatically I resign my position of guard, my position of power. Melodramatically I prepare the sacrifice, the podium. There is a sick calm. Sick in my presence.I am preparing for the move. It is more than two weeks away but mentally I am readying myself for the preparations. It's like the preemptive sneak attack, the action before the cause. I have, unintentionally, been recreating my personality in preparation, defining myself in moments and singular events, obsessions. I look at myself emphatically and wonder what these new people will think, how I can be myself. What I am. It's like I'm putting on a farce, but that farce is my true self. Or so I think it is. Really it's bizarre and I don't want to think about it a lot.
Joanna Newsome has been really good to me lately. I'm not sure why. Kate Bush has also become a character in my writing, however she is utterly abstract, with no form or celebrity or past or personality. Really, it's just a name for No One. Which is pretty interesting. I've been using my subconscious a lot more recently, tapping into sentence structures that my inner-mind deems most appropriate. Not kidding. Of course I really haven't been writing often so I couldn't really say with any honesty that I'm developing a style or something weird like that, but something is happening. Maybe when I start using my Tape Recorder instead of just carrying it around in my broken Diesel some things will start to happen. To continue the honesty Party, the thought of taking a writing class at NU makes me shudder. It doesn't sound fun at all. We'll see.
I found a bike. It may or may not be too small. It's nice and in new condition, and cheap. Well, cheap-ish.
posted by Christolf @ 1:35:00 AM
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