January 18, 2005 - 1:49 p.m.
There are so many little thoughts prostituting themselves for my attention today, so many passwords to remember. "sweet dreams are made of this" lyrics skittering round my head and i once heard a theory that quantum mechanics is the dreams that stuff is made of...sortof like that past relationship, a lot of theory is about all i have left from that ex. valuable stuff. Incredulity is the new enlightenment. I am full of grandiose statements today, words on the page...but there is more to the eye than what meets it. and none or all of this is true, because "i never lie except on tuesdays, tuesday is a good day for it". I've found, after careful hours of listening, that remixes bring me almost as much pleasure as the original, if not more, like Gwen Stefani's Fiddler on the Roof remix, which has already been remixed by some reggae band. Guilty pleasure to be sure, but at least I embrace it honestly. The ability to see anew, to make strange = the alienation effect in practice. After seeing the film "what the @*%&$! do we know?" I'm thinking about my ability to impact my reality. seems plausible, in a world of things that are terrifyingly, unimaginably happening it brings me some small sense of relief to believe that my own perceptions account for some measure of what I will to be. "to be" is an interesting verb, used only ever to its fullest potential by Hamlet, but frequently by Irish playwright Synge. colloquial though it is, I am revelling in the beauty of contrast and the many variants within those sames that we lump together. Inconsistency is the key ingredient to humour. like realizing that you're incriminating yourself, I am my own accuser. "you're not being a wallflower shayne" the little voice says. and the audible voice beside me says, "no shayne, you're not" stop being paranoid. and the reality of time can be measured in how much you can actually get done when you think you have the least of it. like how can I possibly have read 3 novels when I know for a fact that 7 hours of my day were spent in the studio dancing and bruising my knees? it's possible. believe me. so how do you feel? strange?
