On & On & On.
Spending part of the summer working in my favorite part of the city has severely increased my desire to be a New Yorker.
Hole at Terminal 5, 4/27
As the lights dimmed and we waited for Courtney Love to take the stage last night, I thought about the day I bought Live Through This as a 13-year-old. It was the perfect pairing to a period of life that was bitter, scornful, defiant. There was depression. Hiding under headphones at school. Lots of eyeliner; trying too hard. Not brushing my hair and wearing ripped tights. Then there was slowly growing out of angst into apathy. And from there, eventual well-being, giving way to a content girl—hardly punk rock. But I’m still just as transfixed by it as I’ve ever been.
Unbridled wrath isn’t ladylike, but Hole gave angry music its own brand of girlishness. Their grotesquely feminine imagery—the freakish pageant queen, the mutilated baby dolls, and most recently a shattered, bloodied glass slipper—indulges the fucked-up woman in all of us. For this, Courtney will always have a place in (the slightly bitter section of) my heart.
hanging out with guys > hanging out with girls. the lack of bullshit is so pleasant.
i’ve always had good female friends, but that changed as of late. this summer i kinda realized what’s involved with being friends with girls (at least the ones i know), and it’s a whole lot of ridiculous crap. at this point in my life i can honestly say i’d rather hang out with b and his friends than any of my female friends.
“ this is how it works: you’re young until you’re not, you love until you don’t, you try until you can’t, you laugh until you cry, you cry until you laugh, and everyone must breathe until their dying breath.
I hate arbitrary friendships. I either want to be friends with someone or I don’t. And if I don’t, I can’t make myself try.
