30.Oct.2001

is it any wonder I found peace

--

breathe. keep breathing.

Friday is too far away.

This week will be hellish with career choices and yet again weighing my options. Although I'm a self-professed connoisseur of spontaneity, my fear of failing career-wise makes it impossible for me to jump at any chance offered. Getting back into school is my next step.

I want to be a sexologist of a real nature instead of in the university of my imagination.

I personally think it's time for the "Find Ravie a Career Project 2001/2002".

I have taken up my weekends on a friend's living room floor with voices, noise, music, bodies, heat, all occupying my thoughts. In constant motion with the rhythm, bass rips through the floor right where I attempt to stand, trip hop beats make it impossible to wait. I shuffle through the cracks, twisting, bringing my hips, legs, down, twisting, so much music.

There's something therapeutic about the way the bass pushes your tired body into the tired body of another.

I had forgotten what it meant to be young, washing the week off of you with guffawing, constant motion, lights that make the body's outline impossible to remember, I had forgotten what it meant to lose yourself between chords, I had forgotten what it meant to be passionate.

My daily routine is shattered and these boys toss the pieces away from the space we're inhabiting, and blear the lines of banal reality into the lines of unusual reality.

I am such a lucky, manic motherfucker.

Friday is too far away.

--

time & machine