Untitled

insurmountable distances. never know what to say. it’s so sunny and so cold.

npr does gold farmers, sensationally (murder!)

i hear “like pixellated scraps of chex mix in your head …lights,” sorta, but that can’t be right. jazz max? chess ticks? fujiya and miyagi. spraypainted red. it’s spray pain ted red.

thou shalt not.

watched annie for the first time in 15 years last night. i used to watch that movie every day, and listened to a soundtrack on a cassette tape in the car. i used to wonder what “smackers” were and why the movie theater was empty (because back then i didn’t understand what “buy out the 8:00 show!” meant, i guess, though i can clearly remember the chaos and the flying airplanes). gasps in songs were sudden second nature to me, buried somewhere deep in my psyche, though trying to sing them now i realized how hard they were. as a child, i never processed the extremely bizarre hairflipping that marked the transition of grace from tightly wrapped secretary to flouncy whore. and in the beginning of the movie i actually said out loud “wow an asian” at the driver, only to find that he was called The Asp, and did kung fu to beat up that dude with a bomb, and more bouncy happy kung fu (with the flexed foot and everything) in the “we got annie” dance sequence. “look, they’re all doing their happy dances!” was exclaimed at Punjab, winding about with his finger pointed. all in all an eye-opening experience. i didn’t notice there was an asian at all as a child, but i did of course remember Pumjab, and i also remember asking my mother why that girl kept fainting every time she looked at him. o innocence of childhood, we will never recapture you.