tuesday april 17 2001 | 9:02 p.m.
eulogy from ed:
i wanna be sedated (rest in punk mr.ramone)
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
ed found me a job in miami, editing content in spanish for a latin news site. he was on the phone with a_, his friend who owns the mercury theater on the side (which is in essence taking the place of the sadly- and long-defunct south beach alliance theater), while we were instant messaging this afternoon. and apparently they have that opening at a_'s company. we'll see if it's still there in a few weeks. and if i need it after all. for now i'm waiting.
and this job. it would be less than ideal. less than a minimal part of what i want to be doing. but i would be living at home and the funds would accumulate, and in a few months (hopefully no more than a few), i would be able to move out and get on with things. elsewhere. i think ed knows i won't be around in miami for long. we'll be in touch regardless. but he knows -- he lived in california for years until he came back for good.
well, if there is such a thing as "for good." i like to think there isn't.
and right now i am thinking of new york, the transient city.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
i can't motivate, but that's really ok. i just filled out my graduation-requirements-for-the-english-major sheet, and the reality is that much more consolidated now, much more real, that one step closer. and so i figure deadlines can stretch. this is how we do things senior year.
worry and stretch. worry and stretch.
We fill pre-existing forms, and when
we fill them, change them and are changed:--
frank bidart. with the colon-slash intact and deliberate. whose desire is a true work of art. i wasn't very taken with his earlier poetry; was too much immersed in the language, the riddle of michael palmer. but these poems have changed my perspective, very much. although i still can't take my eyes off the michael palmer poems, the way he visualizes words... like thinking in pictures, except thinking in the pictures of words themselves. if that makes any sense. i hope it does. he's fabulous.
so since tonight is dedicated to shameless procrastination, maybe i'll keep working on those mixtapes and letters and packages i never quite finish putting together. whatever gets done tonight gets sent out in the mail tomorrow morning, along with the interview thank-you notes. send me some vibes, kids.
This is the end of the second hour of the night.
