Difficult conversations, good books I've never heard of, getting my heart broken, eating vegetables that somehow have cut themselves, the history of the lobotomy. My friends coming through and creating things that give me hope.
Somebody who can explain to me the narrative logic of that N.O.R.E. song that goes: "Homeboy/ I came to party/ your girl was lookin' at me/ She's a haggler naw I'm not taggin her/ But you don't want them boys to come over and start askin ya/ What you wanna do?" Why would you kick someone's ass because their girlfriend checked you out? Wouldn't it be the other way around? What am I missing?
I heart Brontez solo! The Gits, The Saints, Dead Moon, Subtonix, Shotwell, Bruce Springsteen, Future Adults, Bitchin', Quarterhorse, Thin Lizzy, The Ramones, Elliott Smith, Allergic to Bullshit, Jawbreaker, Bikini Kill (still!) and the fucking Dead Boys! And the Psychadelic Furs and Cookie has gotten me into that old blues.
Hard Candy.
Please, just take them all away and put on an old 45.
AVA, by C. Maso; Dream Boy, by J. Grimsley; Brothers K., by F. Dostoevsky; The Hours, by M. Cunningham; The Age of Reason, by Jean Paul Sarte; My Mother: A Demonology, by Kath Acker; The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebol; The Piano Teacher, by Elfriede Jelinek; Play it as it Lays, by Joan Didion; Drown, by Junot Diaz; Another Country, by James Baldwin; The Master and Margarita, by Mikail Bulgakov; The Trial, Franz Kafka.
Bitchy slutty freaky queers none of us have every heard of. Chicks who wear lipstick and talk too loud. Men who handcuff each other in the name of anarchism. Dead women artists. Those who manage to leave the house despite PTSD. Those who aren't haters and find a way, somehow, to make it work.