drunken philosophy.

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I titled this drunken philosophy, but only half the title is accurate.

The drunken half.

I can hardly type without making typos. The caps make things harder, too. So I think I'm not gonna use caps anymore as...of...

...now.

poof.

it's done.

i'm free of caps.

i'm free to rant.

lessee, then. where do i start? let's talk about what i'm listening to. shivaree. goodnight moon. it's a great song. it's sexy. she has a sexy voice. in a disturbingly precocious way. it's very goth. porcelain vampire doll. except the song and the band is countryish. so it's gothic country.

porcelain vampire cowgirl doll.

the allure of the song lies in her voice. she has an awfully provocative voice, at least in my state. it's breathy, but has substance behind it.

ooo, she just started that spoken-whispered bit. i could shiver.

but it's not just the way her voice sounds, which is lilting and sweet and pouty. it's a big part the way her voice rides the rhythm of the song so easily. it's not a very smooth rhythm, either, kinda syncopated. makes you wonder what else she can ride so nicely--

okay. let's talk about something else.

smirk.

next song. painted on my heart, by the cult. from the gone in 60 seconds soundtrack.

it's a good song. has a very tormented-howl feel to it. all dramatic and stuff. it's like a thunderstorm of a breakup song. the best breakup song in the world is you look so fine. but then again, considering the breakup in question involves Angelina Jolie, i suppose i'd be in a thunderstorm of grief, too.

that woman. is sexy.

i mean, really sexy. because she settles back in her own body and wears sensuality like a second skin. and. stuff like that.

yum.

more smirking.

more ranting.

oh wow. it's moved on to girl you'll be a woman soon already. in fact, that song's ending. hmm. i didn't even hear it. i'll replay it.

i really like this song, too. it has neat beat. samba or something. vaguely spanish. latin. i couldn't dance to this song, though...wouldn't know what to do with my feet. heh. but it's a great song to listen to. drive to.

you know who makes great roadtrip songs? Tom Petty. his songs are ALL about roadtrips with the sun beating into your eyes. dust and heathaze and the highway. the freeway. his songs are about california. about the central valley. and about LA. not Santa Monica, surf and sand--LA. the grittier, less wholesome side. all-american, but not redblooded.

we digress.

this is a sad song. damn. all my songs are kinda sad tonight. well. some, at least. i'm in an odd mood. heh. the slightest provocation makes me laugh, and yet when i write, it comes down being kinda dulled and humorless. i wonder why?

i've been obsessed with that Velvet Underground song all day. it's a great song. it's a very strange song. i mention this because it's come on again. it sounds vaguely middle-eastern.

ooo, deja vu. i think i've said this before.

actually, i'm pretty sure i have. heh.

but it does! it's that single note held under all the rest. and the percussion. i keep thinking of some shah's bedchamber with his harem lounging all over silk cushions, veiled and dressed in almost see-through gossamer and wreathed in incense smoke with smoky hooded kohl-stroked eyes and...hmm...

...i've really got a one-track mind.

well, the other alternative is what this song probably was made from and for...getting shitfaced...

i love that. "getting shitfaced". so much for euphemisms.

ramble on, damon, ramble on.

i wish i could say something intelligent. or reach for some elusive fiber of life that just happens to float through your field of vision so for a moment you have a glimpse of one thread in the tapestry of the universe and you wanna catch it but can't. i wish i could write down what it feels like to grasp for it and miss and know you've missed and know you'll never ever capture it (you probably have no clue what i'm talking about right now) but i'm having trouble steering my mind into metaphysical philosophy and the meaning of life. i just wanna lounge. i just wanna

(fuck)

...okay. we won't go there.

who's reading my diary again? this is an entry i should delete in the morning. this is not an entry that should get out. this is not a respectable, responsible M.D. entry. then again, i never do delete the entries i should delete. i forget. i think there was another one i swore i'd delete. probably more than one. since i haven't deleted any at all, i suppose they're still there.

venus in furs.

what a compelling name.

who thinks venus is a blonde? show of hands? i thought she was a blonde. it seems proper, somehow. maybe it's because the world has this vision of her as the goddess of love and beauty and all, but it's inherently a lighthearted, lightheaded, airheaded vision. like, you know, that aphrodite on xena.

i have it on good authority that xena's a man, by the way.

i digress again.

isn't that weird, though? aphrodite is blonde. even though she's the goddess of lust, and i don't really associate lust with blondeness. (yeah yeah. crucify me tomorrow.) but she CAN'T be a brunette. she's just...blonde.

oh, and no goddess can be a redhead. sorry.

(crucify me TOMORROW, i said.)

now, while aphrodite can't possibly be anything but blonde, venus can. venus somehow sounds...lower. not lower as in baser, but lower as in the tone is lower. you'd speak aphrodite in a higher tone. you'd breathe venus, low and husky. as in she holds herself closer to the earth. and in that, i mean, she's serpentine. wow, what a leap of logic. but that's what i mean. serpents, isis, slithering lowslung prowl.

venus in furs, now...

...rowrrrr.

i think i'm certifiable now. someone go find me a straitjacket, yeah?

still talking about venus in furs (seeing as how it's now on permanent repeat): i bet this song's good to dance to. slow, but not slow-dancing. you know? not, like, slow 'n tender swaying. slow, like lascivious-slow. like dim lights and eye contact and liplicking and arms round neck and hands on moving hips. this song's allll about moving hips, if you were dancing. even if you weren't dancing, it's about closing your eyes and moving loose-jointed to it.

i think i can rant forever about this song. you know why i'm ranting like this? because SOMEone went to bed, and i can't rant at her anymore.

i was lying. the song's all about having sex. while high. or just having sex. in the sauna. or somewhere smoky. or hot and humid. or...whatever.

i think almost all my favorite songs remind me of sex. there's a reason. it's because you feel good songs deep in your blood and bones. and you definitely feel good sex deep in your blood and bones. the ones that don't remind me of sex are always really, really sad. not soap opera weepy sad, but stirring, deep-in-your-blood-and-bones sad.

there's a connection.

i think...it's time for me to shut up.

end rant.

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