quite disillusioned with society in general

quite disillusioned with society in general, because it sucks.
republicans seem to want to privatize everything, so that that corporations can make money.
this is bad for everyone else.
are they for anything else, or is this their primary function,
privatizing everything so that they can make money, payed for by everyone else,
when,
the other way of doing it, is cheaper for everyone else.
why should we support such an idea?
I don’t.
especially when it’s unnecessary.
god I hate these people.
fuck capitalism thriving on scarcity. it’s gonna destroy us.
hell the hell with you.
the hell with your system
the hell with the system.
it’s fucked.
it’s garbage.
some day I’ll be dead and not have to deal with it.
that’ll be peaceful.

drowning out awful and loud music

that moment when you are at a loud late-night dimly lit coffeehouse, and they are playing some awful LOUD, that is, AWFUL “AND” LOUD, music, and you are BLASTING James Brown in your headphones…
sex machine at 37:49. BRIDGE (THE BOMB) at
40:18, REALLY at 40:28, and LOVE the (french?) Broad at 41:00

if I wasn’t at a concert at the LA Phil…

if I wasn’t at a concert at the LA Phil…

I would be pissed that people were uncouth (wow, just wow, it’s not like me to use that word in it’s ACTUAL meaning) and that they weren’t interested in what I am.

yet, when I AM at such a place… a COMPLEX LITANY of STRONG emotions emerges.

everything from
resentment that other people are not as serious as me,
that other people are enjoying the work in a different way than I (call me a narcissist, CALL ME one!)
that
people bother to get “SUPER” dressed up, with “OTHER PEOPLE” who are super dressed up, and they do it as a SOCIAL OCCASION.

FUCK that!!! UMPH!

to irritation at the kinda formal generic lingo that the artists and presenters (ughhhh) use

to jealousy professional and otherwise, to

to wishing it was me instead of them,

to imagined resentment that the artists, were I to meet them, WOULDN’t be AS CRAZY as I, in MY way, (maybe they would, I’d love that… I could marry that…, or at least have sex with it…)

…yeah, it’s mostly at the audience, and the PRESENTATION.

HATE that formal SHIT.

but DO be serious, DO be serious. that’s not the same as formal, mind you.


in other words, I’m your normal sensitive crazy artist.

as of yet my posts about rhythmic insanity

1. they are SUPPOSED to by about my percussion ensemble
BOORBAAR, and our crazed rhythms.

2. they are in fact very few as of yet, the posts.

3. they have so far been about things seemingly unrelated yet which are actually “connected” to boorbaar, but in way likely only obvious to me.

bear with me on that.

I always think I can handle so much more

ok, what the fuck possessed me last night? get this:
1. first I stayed up till like 4:15am wednesday morning, and from 10:30 pm till 2am, wrote crazy music.
2. 7 hours sleep, and at 3pm I drove like 45 miles. I then tried to get health insurance. ….
3. I then drove 20 more miles and played African music for 2.5 hours, and sweated profusely and WAS getting cardio. OOH yeah>
4. I then ACTUALLY thought that I’d have enough energy to drive 65 miles AND “THEN” KEEP WORKING ON MUSIC till 2am.
I even drank coffee. yet I was yawning a lot.
5. I drove the 65 miles, got home, was a pile, and passed out with the lights on.
6. I then SLEPT THROUGH PILATES this morning…
what the hell was I thinking, and why, as always, am I “THIS” out of touch with my body and what it/I can handle?
it’s like I
m 6 years old and think I’m immortal and am surprised when I get tired ever.
this some kinda guy thing?
what else is it too?
balls.