Time for me to talk to myself again

In last week's post I didn't talk about personal taste or my own opinions; I simply introduced a mindset. I now intend to change that. Prepare for a rapid decrease in the level of diction.

Something I'm thinking about at the moment: Vampire Weekend, and why they're the subject of so much debate

(start judging me)

When the band in question is brought up for discussion in my group of friends, common responses include: "What a gay band", "More like ASSPIRATE weekend right?", and more recently-"Those fags are still making music?". Please excuse relatively loose use of alternative terms for 'homosexual'. I actually had a boyfriend at one point! Anyways, my somewhat dynamic sexuality aside, I listened to that new song 'Horchata' a few days ago. Strange enough, I enjoyed the experience. This is in strong contrast to my immediate reaction to their first album. Soon as I heard "I see a mansard roof through the trees/I see a salty message written in the eaves" I declared aloud (I was with a friend at the time. No, I'm not some crazy guy who yells at himself while he's alone at home violently masturbating to dragons 69ing. Wait what?) "This music is stupid! These lyrics are stupid, and the people that get a kick out of this are motherfuckers! Yes, I'm one-hundred percent sure that fans of this band all have oedipus complexes and fuck their mothers! Often! While their fathers tape it so they can all have a circle-jerk to the video later!" Point is, I might've been a little quick to judge. 'A-Punk' is actually pretty fun, and I still listen to 'I Stand Corrected' on occassions I deem it absolutely necessary (about once a month). There are just some songs on the album that annoy the living shit out of me. Ex. 'Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa' makes use of what is possibly the most annoying thing ever played on a guitar multiple times in a row (next to, I don't know, something like that riff from 'smooth criminal'? I guess comparing Vampire Weekend to Alien Ant Farm is bad, but who the fuck cares?).

But yeah, I enjoyed 'Horchata'. The lyrics make me want to shoot myself, but if the music stays fun and engaging, I can live with them. Seriously, though. "In December drinking horchata/ I look psychotic in a balaclava/ Winter's cold is too much to handle/Pinch the crabs that pinch at your sandals"? The line about horchata does just as much for me as that line about orange crush in 'Two Brown Finches', which isn't nearly as bad as "And what hits the spot yeah/ Like gaaaaaatorade". That line about gatorade actually made me laugh uncontrollably for a bit the first time a heard it. Now, it just makes me cringe. Longsreth really needs to stop writing about fucking BEVERAGES. I digress yet again, as I often do. It's not the upper-class subject matter of Koenig's lyrics that gets me. It's the way they sound STUPID. Somebody needs to get him some wine for all that cheese.

Introduction?

To me there are two aspects of this life that all humans share: the external; the internal. This is old news. This is universal. I digress.

Now that my friends are back in college, I (the college dropout) have lost the external. I'm stuck at home, working low wages for the MAN. This is my fault. I admit to it. I just didn't think it would be this hard to bear.

I'm one of those guys who wants to be needed. I LOVE taking care of people; It's my nature. Right now there's not really anyone who needs me to take care of them. I only have myself to take care of right now. All I have is the internal. I'm feeling it right now, the unbearable lightness of being. Too many things are running through me, into me. I can't release them! I'm filling up like an over-inflated bike tube! HA-HA! I work at a bike shop! That's probably a little over dramatic, though. It's just that it's hard to feel like there's someone that cares about you when everyone who DOES care is far away. That's not really explaining it very well. My parents are close by, as are a couple of my good friends. These people are only ones that can help me, there doesn't exist that mutual bond of give-take that makes a relationship truly intimate. I have this bond with a few people, these people are essentially my "best" friends; those who I have grown with; shared humiliating moments, bitter defeats, and glorious triumphs with; individuals who I have been there for at their lowest of lows; and who have been there for me at my lowest of lows.

These are the people I can be completely candid with. I am myself, fully, completely, in their presence. There's no reason to lie to them, because any lie I told them could never be worth it.

I guess that's the reason I'm starting this blog. I need to be candid with someone, even if I have to settle with something abstract and ethereal, like the internet. I need an escape route for everything in my head. I need to deflate a little, even if the extra pressure is only due to an unspoken dick joke or two.