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I have come to realise that I live off the concert tour map. The Atlanta music scene is in dire need of revitalisation. This is the land of Clear Channel, suburban sprawl and nouveau riche poseurs. Detroit is happening; most of the hot garage bands I've heard recently are out of Motor City... It seems the only creative or musical endeavors here are sub-underground. (If you're not in on it, you don't know about it.)
I'm tired of the music scene 'round here being guarded by rabid hipsters.
Despite Atlanta being a cultural black hole continuously sucking in more bullshit, there are some real down folks who are putting in the effort to rock. I'll actually list some groups and whatnot later. For now, you get angst. Just angst.
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Or something. Really, I am just happy. Truly, honestly, earnestly happy. It's an innocent sort of joy, as if my childhood never ended, and I am consistently refreshed.
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This series of surreal happenings has set upon me like sunrise. One evening towards the end of July in the year 2007, I stared into a blinding array of pixels which eventually registered with my mind as a computer monitor screen. Lauren sat in the living room making a call; Lucy and I sat in front of our last pathway to society, the internet. We had both joined a free personality quiz and matchmaking website months previous. As we became bored with webcomics, curiosity overcame us, so I signed into my account on the aforementioned website.
After I browsed around the quiz section for a few minutes, Lucy beckoned me to let her login. Bored, I obliged. We bantered back and forth about the new features on the site, and how you could now see what sort of freaks had seen your profile. Scrolling through the thumbnails, Lucy stopped suddenly, pointing at a particular picture, blurting, "He looks really weird!" I gave her a half-hearted nod, noticing that he had taken my compatibility test, scoring surprisingly low.
Suddenly, Lucy was distracted by the sound of the television in the next room, and went to investigate what Lauren was doing. I logged back in, and sent the weird-looking low-scorer an instant message. He responded, and we began to chat. We must have typed back and forth until 4:30 AM; neither of us had ever been engaged in a more engrossing exchange of words. As I write this, on the night of August 11th 2007, I do not recall what we talked about or how the conversation ended, or if it ended at all.
His straightforward nature refreshed me; our similarities comforted my esoteric loneliness. We shared every intimate detail of our lives as if we were being reunited after years of isolation. With each eloquent clause, it became intensely clear that these people had to meet. A week of night-long discussions crept by us, each exchange filling our hearts and minds until the desire to gaze upon these strangers who knew our souls grew unbearable.
We informed our parents of each other, and in an unheard-of act of chivalry, Derek de Lima, my soulmate, spoke with my father, asking him to please drive me to see him. See, one of the many similarities which brought us together was our social deficits, including a disliking of phones and cars; therefore, neither of us had the means to travel to the other alone. After several days of trying to negotiate transportation, my sister agreed to drive me to see him in exchange for gas money.
Thus, Rainbow Funster and Red Felix were united at last, if only briefly... yet long enough to know the bond between them resembled no feeling either had experienced before.
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For once, I am going to be straightforward and concrete. I casually dated Jeremy, but he ditched me because of my scars from surgery. Then, in my pathetic state, I stumbled across Derek John De Lima. So the epic story begins, woven with the rags of teenage love and stitched with heartstrings pure and arrows true.
He had shut himself off from the world, sitting at his computer drinking Yoo-Hoo for the past year. A forty-five minute drive away, I sat squarely on my loose ends, unwashed, bitter, and lonely. Only Godzilla and chronic illness could bring these two souls together.
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and your picture etched on my screen.
Every moment slides by noticeably rough-hewn and prickly, agitating my skin.
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Isn't it peculiar how the universe works in such unexpected ways? Everything is in balance... real time flows free of the limitations of matter, and catharsis fills me.
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Your words, thoughts pursed on your lips like archers posed with drawn bows, should not wrench me like they do; even the anticipation of your slight smile churns me. I alone make myself feel like a throwaway, yet somehow even your most lightly placed honesties stop me cold. You don't know how to let me in and I can't let you out... Give it a day and I'll let you out.
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As if anyone who knows me hasn't noticed. I've been feeling alive lately. Lauren, Lucy and I worked on a photography/silent film project on Monday and Tuesday.
[Shameless whoring of amateur skill: CLICK HERE TO SEE STUFF.]
Other than that surge of creativity, life has been rather mellow. I've been talking to a film student named Jeremy. He makes me smile. More later. Doot.
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my brain's the burger and my heart's the coal.
Misery is all I see, that's my mind's state.
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My thoughts are good, and my intentions are better. Somehow these days are gonna slide beside me, right at my hip until I feel like I can do without the support.
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