don't pull tha thang out

and as things fell apart,
nobody paid much attention.

- the Talking Heads.

can I say, that right this very second is one of the most difficult times I've ever been through. and that is saying something.

do you like Phil Collins? I've been a big Genesis fan ever since the release of their 1980 album, Duke. Before that, I really didn't understand any of their work. too artsy, too intellectual. It was on Duke where, uh, Phil Collins' presence became more apparent. I think Invisible Touch was the group's undisputed masterpiece. It's an epic meditation on intangibility. at the same time, it deepens and enriches the meaning of the preceding three albums. listen to the brilliant ensemble playing of Banks, Collins and Rutherford. you can practically hear every nuance of every instrument. Sabrina, remove your dress. In terms of lyrical craftsmanship, the sheer songwriting, this album hits a new peak of professionalism. take the lyrics to Land of Confusion. in this song, Phil Collins addresses the problems of abusive political authority. In Too Deep is the most moving pop song of the 1980s, about monogamy and commitment. the song is extremely uplifting. Their lyrics are as positive and affirmative as, uh, anything I've heard in rock. Phil Collins' solo career seems to be more commercial and therefore more satisfying, in a narrower way. especially songs like In the Air Tonight and, uh, Against All Odds. but I also think Phil Collins works best within the confines of the group, than as a solo artist, and I stress the word artist. Sussudio, a great, great song, a personal favorite.

if you're still with me, I'd like to fall down a flight of stairs. also, if things work out with my ishs, I am going to be moving into a collective space bent on community projects, sustainable living, social change, and heavily involved with both metal music and the IWW. heaven anyone? also, I'll be having a dog. a dog. a dog.

if you're still with me here, I wish I could remember the fucked, FUCKED up dreams the combination of anxiety meds, caffeine and sleeping pills makes me have. If I could somehow record them, they would be the greatest things you'd ever seen. I'm talking, kids stealing wheat stalks and throwing them on the floor, emptying water on them. various messed up surrreal deaths and murders, and desperate messed up sex. or maybe it's just all the influence of the David Lynch picture I hung up.

anyone know the story, "Little Match Girl" by Hans Christian Andersen. I am the Little Match Girl right now. I am.

"Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out. "Rischt!" how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It seemed really to the little maiden as though she were sitting before a large iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little girl had already stretched out her feet to warm them too; but--the small flame went out, the stove vanished: she had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand........"

".............But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall--frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there with her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt. "She wanted to warm herself," people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with her grandmother she had entered on the joys of a new year".

I told him that was the saddest story I'd ever heard.
I told him that was the saddest story I'd ever heard.
I told him that was the saddest story I'd ever heard.
I told him that was the saddest story I'd ever heard.