the general idea of cat power doesn’t appeal to me, as well as almost any overwhelmingly conventional beautiful thing. it’s not that i’m intentionally trying to be contrary. for some reason right now, maybe it’s because i’m still getting over this cold, and it’s almost 4 AM… but there is something so earnest and raw about this version of this song that i can’t resist.
what’s up internet. it’s been a minute, because apparently it is unsustainable for me to keep a blog. but i try. HAPPY NEW YEAR. this year, i want to clean out my closets, apply to at least 3 graduate schools, and get a radio show. cheer up, only 2 and a half months until spring, babies!
My only child & All That Is My Own / La cicatrice intérieure
-Nico & Phillipe Garrel, 1970
(Source: youtube.com)
new job cured my internet addiction— sorry blog. i am now a registered nursing assistant in memory care. i love it— the people i work with, the residents, getting to help people feel safer and more comfortable as they are in their end stages. at the same time i don’t recognize myself and the way i spend my time. this is not how i live. i hate change and things are changing really fast all the time and somehow i’ve been doing things like sleeping enough and eating enough and learning to say no and doing the shit i need to do. it’s kind of amazing, and i’m sort of waiting for the other shoe to drop. there used to be this weird equilibrium of chaos where so many aspects of my life were fucked up that it just stopped impacting me. now i am starting to believe that i might actually be able to function as a human being and it’s fucking SCARY.
and it’s almost spring. i’m going in for major house-cleanings. everything is making me angry.
like clichés
shot to hell,
all these small faces
looking up
beautiful and believing;
I wish to weep
but sorrow is
stupid.
I wish to believe
but belief is a
graveyard.
we have narrowed it down to
the butcherknife and the
mockingbird.
wish us
luck."
I am so fucking angered and triggered by Julian Assange and this whole “progressive” defense of him— yeah, blindly defending someone who’s an accused rapist and blaming/denying survivors is real fucking radical, ASSHOLES.
And Michael Moore is such a supreme douche I can’t even believe it.
At lease Sady Doyle is a fucking badass.
And lastly, this is to make me feel better.
