My mac is still set to Boston time. Oh how i miss you. Every morning I wake up to memories from the bean. Tracks that gently make their way into my ears sweetly waking me up whatever time it may be...
Today I woke up to Simple Gift of Man by Electron.
You know what that reminds me of? That time Earl and I decided to do something fun. So you're wondering what exactly did we do, that was fun? Well, let me tell you.
Earl, explained to me that Electron will be amazing live and that he has never seen them live before. So he buys two tickets online, one for him and one for me. We prepare for the show, whatever that may mean. Get in Black Betty and drive to West Mass to pick up two fabulous people. We are all in the car and driving to Connecticut. On our way there we snack on our puffables and drink some sweetness. Before you know it we're at Toad's Place, New Haven. The Yale campus is right next door. When else would I have ever seen Yale?? hah.
The show is starting. The opening band is not too impressive. But as soon as I see Brownie I know the party is ON. Definitely one of THE BEST shows of my life ever. I know i've only lived 19 years but this will always be one of the best. So yeah, after the show I was still out there in space and Earl was driving back to the bean. I don't think I slept that night but hell, it was one fucking amazing trip. Who do i thank? I only thank Mister Jones. if it werent for him, i would never have been exposed to... you know.
i think i drank at least 30 tea bags worth of camomile the past week and a half.
Sitar. Sit on Tar?
I found a huge file storing booklet device on my bookshelf the other day. Opened it up out of curiosity. Inside I found research notes, pages upon pages of notes. So many I would have to sit for at least a day to read through all of them. All of these notes were notes found and taken for my research paper when I was a junior at HKIS. damn. I was such a hardworking student. neat as fuck. organized and motivated. I read the final research paper. 16 pages. teachers loved it. research paper written on Tim Burton and his life and his work. Oh how I loved him. loved? i don't know about now. do i still? I got a distinction grade on this research paper. this is probably what put me in Emerson. hah. I remember spending so many hours sitting trying to edit and proofread and rewrite this paper.
"telling a story isn't telling a lie. it's almost an emotional thing. it's how you feel, een at that moment. that's the beauty of it. one can tell a lot of realities and truths and turn it into a completely surreal story." -tim burton
these days i feel almost scared to indulge myself with creativity, art, imagination and such. what will happen if i do? reactivating my imagination is such an emotional process. then exploring it is even more of an emotional task. and when i lift up the covers and frolic in my imaginative world... it will only bring back memories and make me think until my head explodes and only blood and scraps of brain are left. I have to skip songs constantly because i can't handle the life behind that song. i can't bring myself to draw because i have no music around me. no motivation. no inspiration. what have i done? as an artist i have only splashed dirt onto my name. its time to stop.
i don't know anything anymore.
I remember the night I took this photo of you. I was super upset. Ugh. you know those days. You tried to comfort me. Which always works. you have magical powers.
Dan and Greg came in and started hugging each other. Oh yeah, they did. I started taking photos. They were oh so cute. those two. hahaha.
Tiger, you are so silly. I miss you. I love you.
i just listened to Virtue's album Good Will Hunting (or Prelude to How to Become an Insomniac) through twice. I think yall should do the same.
To Will,
Comptine d'un autre été.
Love, Jenny.
Sun 8:05 AM
