[12.24.02]-[12:33 p.m.]
So, I'll start out by saying that I really have no idea what is going on around me. I really am envious of friendships around me. I'm just sick of friends that really probably wouldn't notice if I disappeared forever. I'm starting to think that Scott would be happier if I did. I know Max wouldn't notice or give a fuck. He doesn't ever try, so why should I? Scott doesn't give much of a fuck, I don't think. I mean, he does. He loves me. In some way, shape or form, but not like I care about him. He doesn't call me much. But I know he cares. He probably would be happier never speaking to me again. I'd likely be happier never speaking to him. But we both know that neither of us will do that. At least, I know I won't.
I want friends that care. This isn't self-deprecation. I like myself just fine. I just want my friends to too. And some of them don't.
Some of them do though. And I like that.
So, I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing. I do know M got a bunch of my photog framed. I picked them up today. It cost her a fucking small fortune. But she gets to keep them all. They look good. Not to be too proud or anything, but they do. I am. Proud.
I also went by the photo store to pick up Polaroid film so my brother can shoot porno of his underage girlfriends. Erich was working, and it made me happy. He asked me if I was single. At least, that's what I think he was asking. He asked if Scott came with me to New York. I think that's just a not-so-subtle way of asking if I'm available. At least, that's what I'm hoping. He is gorgeous. And sweet. We went on a date once, a few years ago, and it didn't go anywhere. Then he invited me to a party, and I brought Scott along, last year. It was so much fun. He's really hot. I'm game if he is. I'm going to go ask him out sometime when I get back from Seattle. I'm excited.
On another note, Joe Strummer died yesterday. Pour one for Joe. It sounds cheesy, but I mean it. I think he'd appreciate it. He literally changed my life. Listening to the Clash back in the day, his lyrics, his music, his message, his fucking style. It changed me. Every rock band around today owes something to him. Every punk band owes everything to him. Fuck the Sex Pistols. It's all about the Clash. They are the first meaningful punk band. And his message is beautiful. Joe, you will be missed. I miss you. Thank you.
'White youth, black youth, better find another solution. Why not phone up Robin Hood and ask him for some wealth distribution? Punk rockers in the UK, they won't notice anyway. They're all too busy fighting for a good place under the lighting. The new groups are not concerned with what there is to be learned. They got Burton suits, ha you think it's funny, turning rebellion into money. All over people changing their votes along with their overcoats. If Adolf Hitler flew in today, they'd send a limousine anyway. I'm the all night drug-prowling wolf who looks so sick in the sun. I'm the white man in the Palais, just lookin' for fun. I'm only looking for fun.' ----'White Man In Hammersmith Palais' by The Clash
Did you miss these last few, most recent entries?