friday february 2 2001    |    1:32 a.m.

and a strange week to follow.

now more than ever i've been feeling like losing myself in the crowd. in any crowd. in a gallery, some crowded street, at a show, some foreign city, times square, i don't know. sometimes everything is too much -- the same faces every day, the same routine, retracing of steps over and over -- and i need to run away. regardless of situations and consequences. i think i'm there right now.

today i woke up early for my 8:10 class, took a shower, got dressed, touched the doorknob ready to run over to art of christian europe... and i couldn't. i just couldn't. i stood there with my hand on the doorknob for long minutes. and then i walked out of my room and went to have breakfast. came back to my room. read. and went back to bed until four in the afternoon.

i just couldn't do it. not today.

but tonight i did my radio show, which was all over the place because i was tired and uninspired and so i actually ended up playing def lep's pyromania in its entirety. hey, it's a little bit of culture we all need to have under our belts and in our stereo. and later julie and i hung out with adam, who -- i am becoming more convinced every day -- is easily one of the coolest people i've met at school. it's so comfortable with him, there is absolutely no bullshit, we're all on the same level somehow. he rocks.

i'm listening to a jeff buckley boot right now, he's right in the middle of "so real" and at one point -- he very languidly breathes "i love you" into the microphone -- and there are all these chicks in the audience screeching and going nuts in the background. the jeff buckley phenomenon. maybe one day i'll talk about that. jeff buckley fan are very... particular... very serious about their fandom. there was just something about him...

i love this music and i have a half-full pack of cigarettes and it's practically the weekend... i haven't felt this good in a long while.

tomorrow i might go with robert to bernie's again, to see the postage era this time. robert and i were talking at the pub last night -- it was senior night, 50 cent drafts, woohoo -- and it turns out, god this is so freaky, that he grew up with dusty and brad and that they're actually on the same label. tomorrow there will be an indie kid reunion if we do end up going. should be interesting to say the least. it really is a small world, after all.

wait in the fire
wait in the fire

i forget sometimes how absolutely hands-down pants-off jaw-droppingly amazing jb was. it's good to revive the affair sometime.

so tonight thingy ran into bigfoot ran into outkast into pyromania into blonde redhead and supertramp and fugazi. it was an odd odd show, but good fun. yeah.

if only you'd come back to me
if you laid at my side
i wouldn't need no mojo pin
to keep me satisfied

julie and i have been on this richard bach kick like you wouldn't believe. i finished a bridge across forever a couple of days ago, and wow was it ever disappointing and sort of mind-blowing at the same time. i don't remember richard bach not being able to write, but oh it's true. he's horrible. trite and even embarrassing even. but it's like playing that text-based hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy game or whatever it's called, you're hooked and your thinking is challenged with every word. maybe it's not the soundest analogy, but it's the first thing that came to mind. illusions is also pretty badly written, but it's just as unlikely to get put down without devouring first. but yeah. it's been making me think. maybe a little too much.

and the usual crutches are still there, maybe more than ever. jah keeps sending his messages, and there's not much i can do about it, or want to do about it. there go all resolutions.

matt r_ and i decided tonight while switching radio shows that mc5's "kick out the jams" is probably the most-covered song in rock of all time. even by jeff buckley. even by rage against the machine! duran duran? it's kooky.

but anyway. time to get some quality sleep. good weekends, all.