elegantwaste's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- music, silence, and sex. yes sex! perverts. I never make playlists. I always have the entire content of my harddrive hooked up to Winamp, and the random button pushed. In a way, this allows the computer to control my moods. Today, it has decided it wants to play my old teenage angst music, mainly the plaintive female voices. Sarah McLachlan, Alanis, Damnait Doyle, Dayna Manning, and lots of other people who tend to get a little embarassing. I was in the right age group for grunge, but I never really felt like that. I had nothing to rebel against, really - all I did was feel sad. So, the voices. I can't listen to female voices much anymore. They have to have joy in their voices. Or have the joy and sadness stripped away by over-production, because yes, I am a pop whore. -- I visited my mother the last few days, and it was nice. I read books. I walked up a mountain. I walked down the waterfront. I patted her cat. I slept in a tiny little bed. I was fed well. My mom and I have the sort of relationship that we don't really talk, much. Spending time with each other consists of being in the same room and doing our own thing - we've always been like that. I think it's nicer than enforced quality time. We can be silent together. Or maybe I'm forgetting what my childhood was like - all the screaming and i-hate-yous and resentment. We're quiet together now, though. And it's nice. Nice is sometimes the only good word for something. - Now it's playing BNL. My first concert. 1991, I think. maybe 92. When did Gordon come out? Oh, I'm old. Except that I'm not, but I feel it. Sigh. This song is the cross that I bear; bear with me. Be with me tonight. - I miss having someone with me at night. I miss sex that's not with myself. Which gets old pretty quick, even with ye old toys [my new one, by the way, hoo-ah. yeah. worth the money spent.] I don't want a girlfriend, really. Because I'm in a self kind of state of mind. I'm thinking about me a lot and I think that's good, for once. But some sex would be nice. Do you ever worry you'll never have sex again? What's a person's sex quotia in life? Maybe one day it runs out. Someone somewhere sees your relationship ending, thinks about how much sex you've had, and then decides that's it. No more cupid's arrows for you. Not even a quick tumble. I should go to bed. 10:18 p.m. - 2002-08-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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