Here we go round the prickly pear...

It's a different kind of angst, Charlie Brown.
2005-07-18 + 1:53 a.m.

You know what? I was reading some profiles just now. I'm no stranger to Diaryland, I've been here under an assumed name for years (Hell, my name's Whiskered Leg, for Chrissake, what would you do?) and I noticed how people will stuff their favorite music section with bands, going so far as to cram the comments section. Can you really have favorite bands if you like them all?
Anycrap. I got up from the couch and walked all the way into my cat-smelling bedroom (Gawdamn cat!) to talk to you about angst.
I know a great many people, and am liked by some of them and I have to say that I don't understand this angst-ridden new wave thing that's going on, especially in my little Denton world! I went to one of these poetry readings someone was having in a local coffee shop, I was an involuntary participant, wanted to get my Italian soda and be on my way but I happpened to overhear the talent of the evening announced and this guy gets up there, not all in black as one might expect, but nicely accented with red (a very angsty color which radiates emotional pain and lost childhood mourning even better than green. Even better than green) and holds up his hand for silence. We sat there, hushed. I sat there, hushed. I mean, what presence! Held his hand up and what did we do? We shut up! When I try that crap people look at me oddly and ask me if I need to go to the bathroom. So we're all hushed, indrawn breath and waiting for this...verbal masterpiece to be pushed out of his talented mouth by his underrated breath, past those divinely original teeth. And...this is what we get.
"My dear, my dear, my tears..."
(Hand extended in the classic yearning gesture.)
"Disappear!"
So I hang back expecting the rush for the door and not wanting to get caught in the throng, but wait. They AREN'T LEAVING. A lot of people are blowing like there's a birthday cake in front of them and shaking their heads in an "I can't take this raw emotionality" kind of way but they aren't LEAVING! Jesus jumped-up-Christ-on-a-pogo stick! This guy's better than Hitler for this crowd hypnotizing thing. If this guy fell into the wrong hands do you realize the implications of this? Holy shit. Wait. No, still not leaving. That was two days ago and I bet they're all still sitting there. Maybe they all rode with the poet guy or something. Fuck, I don't know.

getting ready for the date