Bruise as they heal my pain.
Food on the flight.
Draw from the orange juice crane.
Picture a person you've forgotten.
kissing your brother
Picture a wounded entertainer.
Cutting his hair again."
Ah, Adam. You so fine, baby.
So, this theme was inspired in many coincidental way. I felt like listening to him last night because I've felt very strange lately. He makes strange feel sexy. Like a sexy clown or woman in a fish suit. It is possible, but only in the right light. A green light, apparently. Adam is that is light. So, I listen to him and the thoughts of worthlessness and inability to stand for myself vanish. I feel comfortable when I think "if my life does not go how I wish, I'll live with monks or the Amish ... I'd even settle for busking on the street, reading Fairy Tales to depressed business men."
I consider that a rich fall-back plan.
The second ingredient to this theme is Cate commenting on my last post. It reminded me of a photo she sent me once of her, with a caption reading "Me, having an Adam Green Day", or something to that effect. I think she was referring to her dishevelled hair. I actually recognised the resemblance, but I think it was her eyes, in the way Mr. Green's always look sadly perfect. The night I recieved that picture, Adam was on RockWiz and wore tight jeans and a plastic jacket that he continually threw off. Here's a little clip of one song I've taken a shining too.
I love the Cat, the dancing, the top hat, the use of the name Eleanor, the fish bowl and, as the icing on the cake, his imperfect strike. Nine pins down. I love 9 ... or do I hate it? I lose track of my own emotions.
The last slice of inspiration was from Caitlin whom lets me show her any music I please. I don't think I've shown her Adam Green and I'm excited to. I think she'll like him. Sharing is Caring.
This is a picture of me. Dorian Grayesque was my attempt. Modern-er. I like my hair. I actually planned to print off a stack, leave them next to my bed and, on bad mornings, tear one up. Maybe two. Rip apart my sad, old face and suit and put on my Sonic the Hedgehog shirt and joggers and live as a 18 year old, socially awkward boy with a life many would kill for. I'm over the suit phase. I still prefer short hair and moustaches (even if it makes me look more awkward), but suits seem too much. I love wearing them ... but I don't want to be one. I don't want the suit to wear me. I do love my tie collection, however ... and my hats.
Speaking of clothing. My darling glasses, the Aviators which I saw every morning with. My saftey blanket, dangling from my neck or draped across my 'romantic' nose. Ha ha!
It's not really funny, it's just be a while since I thought that. Anyway, the intense heat lately has damaged them. The glass expanded in their frames and cracked, chipped. I look asthough I've been hit in the face when I wear them. I still kind of liking them. Adds character. Similar to when we did dancing at school and I'd place one of my G.I Joe toys in my front pocket just so the girls would ask "Why is there an army man in your pocket?"
Now I might get people asking "Who hit you?" or "What did you do?"
I'll take an arrogant breathe through my nose, smirk and reply "You should see the other guy."
I guess I should also, officially, say Happy New Year!
Enjoy what you're doing. Even if you hate it.
2011. Two years until December of 2012 when all of the lunatics will scream followed by bone-shattering shame. This one Danish man I saw on a Doco has spent his life savings and worked himself into a few million dollars of debt by loaning huge amounts and building a shelter in Madagascar for the 2012 Dooms Day. Caitlin asked "If he survives in the shelter, how will he get off Madagascar?"
Maybe on one of the UFOs that the secret organisation that killed JFK is hiding in Area 51.
I want to see his face as the sun comes up and the birds are chattering away ... the sun glowing naturally. I hate the idea of 2012. I KNOW there will be many suicides out of fear. People have already planned it and yet live happily now waiting for the date. They'll never know they were wrong. They're being punished for believing a story written by nuts. Y2k all over again but on a much more massive scale. People fear nature more than science. The sun is more aggressive than computers.