90s nr nostalgic escapism 211119 ... raze in the book of my life, the name of this chapter would be "the decade i used enough hair products to destroy the ozone layer". 211120 ... tender_square ottawa 1994. dad sprawled out on his belly against the hotel bedspread, stopping channel changes on much music. mom and brea chattered on about something or other, but dad and i froze as a bald guy strummed an acoustic guitar. he was propped up on a stool, beside a bandmate who also played guitar, an impromptu performance in the middle of a weekday afternoon. the way the singer lilted his voice on every other word in the verses mesmerized us, and his projection rose on the choruses with steadied conviction: “i’ve willed, i’ve walked, i’ve prayed, i’ve talked, i know, i know, i’ve been here before.” the band wasn’t on the radar of commercial rock radio; we bought “throwing copper” later that day, knowing we had stumbled upon something special the rest of the world wasn’t yet privy to. (and fuck, “white, discussion” is still a jam i blare.) 211120 ... epitome of incomprehensibility Antarctica, dinosaurs, Tiny Little World, Valois_Park 1999 was a three-eyed alien taking me to Cedar Christian Academy 220130 ... nr remembering the feeling of excitement at new discoveries and experiences and ways of looking at the world makes me nostalgic and sad and jaded. i can't imagine anything surprising us to the point of excitement nowadays. 220918 ... epitome of incomprehensibility I still get excited at little things, or things not directly connected to me (e.g. science discoveries talked about on Quirks and Quarks). And then I worry it's childish. But the discouraged feeling comes too. Anything exciting on the news is a bad thing (it seems), and my individual life is depressingly predictable sometimes. 220919 ... raze "kiss from a rose" just came on the radio. and i'm eleven years old again. 220919 ... tender_square i must be getting ancient because i look back on this decade as "the good old days." i long for its simplicity deeply. and i don't think that's necessarily misplaced nostalgia for being a child again; if anything, i wish i had been a bit older to have experienced more of the underground music and movies and art and culture. the world felt safer then than it does now, but maybe i just have more to lose. i miss landline telephone conversations, writing long-distance letters, cheap and varied blockbuster movies, uplifting songs that radiated positivity and life. remember when people were actually immersed in experiences as they were happening instead of snapping photographs and videos to post online and make others jealous? the term "personal brand" makes me break out in fucking hives. as meredith brooks once sang, "i hate the world today." 230312 what's it to you? who go blather from