Tuesday, May 13, 2003

I keep catching myself in the mirror, doing silly rock star moves. No, wait, that's a lie - I keep looking into whatever mirror is nearby, and doing silly rock star moves. Something inane that, if it were in a film clip, would still be meaningless, but would have every sense of a critical moment, of importance. I wonder why I do this. It's reminds me of what I was doing last night. What was I doing last night? (I may aswell get carried away with this, I'm not doing anything else productive like, hmm, writing an essay that was due a week and a half ago on something I still don't understand.) Well, last night, I decided that, in order to free up my essay writing, a glass or two of red might help. I had some crazy image of myself "in dialogue" with Jacques Derrida. I mean, on first reading, he seems to be talking a sort of inflated academic bullshit, so the image of myself with glass of red in hand, madly typing away seemed to fit nicely with the eccentric academic image. It's quite a superficial approach, now that I look at it. Anyway, it went pear-shaped. Undeniably pear-shaped. Picture: Tori Amos blaring, me conducting in a desperate fashion while sitting at the piano - red wine still in hand, mind you - letting the pain of the world wash over me as I bellowed to "Spark", imagining how well this bellowing would go down on a stage, at karaoke, in a film clip... Yes, I'm a part of the fucking generation that constantly visualises itself in movies, with a soundtrack, being interviewed, performing rock moves. ("Fucking generation"? Why not.) And I don't really know what else there is to say about it. Perhaps this is a reflection of what happens after too much time by myself. I'll put it down to that. And to various other emotional-personal things that I don't particularly want to describe here. But you should know that they're there, just to complete the picture. The point being that I'm a little lost at sea, and that this should be a lesson to anyone else who considers letting themselves slip too far from schedules and such other unendurable necessities.

The End.

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