Megan Alexandra.
This is stuff that I think about and stuff that you think about.
I Like.
Summer because I can drive with my windows down. Beer at the library. Old things, secondhand things, vintage things. Microwaves so I don't starve because I can't cook. Vitamins because microwave food isn't so healthy. When wrestlers become movie stars. Learning things. Tasteful nudes. Jason Mewes with long hair. Seeing new cities and people and places. Writing down everything.
Music.
Act Fast. Black Flag. Braid. Cosmic Gate. Fedde Le Grand. Friendly Fires. The Honorary Title. Japandroids. Kaskade. Ladyhawk. Land of Talk. Late of the Pier. Library Voices. Manchester Orchestra. Northstar. Ra Ra Riot. The Radio Dept. Reverie Sound Revue. Treasure Fingers. Verse. Wolf Parade. Woodhands.
Reads.
The Average American Male. The Bean Trees. Bitch Magazine. How to Make Love Like a Pornstar. Less Than Zero. Playboy Magazine. Runaway Devil. Vice Magazine. World War Z.
Film.
28 Weeks Later. 9 to 5: Days in Porn. American History X. American Psycho. Back to the Future. The Blind Side. The Butterfly Effect. Charlie Bartlett. Clerks II. Die Hard. Die Hard With A Vengeance. The Expendables. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Goodfellas. Grandma's Boy. The Hangover. Inglorious Basterds. Kindergarten Cop. The Lion King. Little Miss Sunshine. Live Free or Die Hard. Mallrats. Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Religulous. Requiem For A Dream. Superbad. Taken. Total Recall. XXX. Zombieland.
Television.
Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations. Arrested Development. Cathouse. Criminal Minds. Freaks and Geeks. Intervention. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Late Night with Conan O'Brien. Lost. The Office. Third Watch.
I Don't Like.
How I can't make up my mind about anything.
The apartment.
Friday, July 24, 2009, 2:25 AM
Maybe it's time for you to leave or maybe it's just a stretch, but my imagination runs wild and it runs you out of the room and into the night. The outside silence wafts through the streets, the wind blows against you as you rewind to your origins. It's almost as if you were never really here, or maybe you never really were. Your rough demeanor and your tumbling exterior linger on my sheets, I've never been so hot. Maybe it wasn't all as it seemed but we pretended for a while, just a while, and it was nice while it lasted. Ideally, I'd find you in my bed once again, twisted up in those sheets and naked but everyone knows what you really want. That's okay, I didn't want you anyway. What did you say, that night you made a fool of me? What was it, among the dirty dishes and the records and the pull-out? Maybe it was the broken chords, maybe it was your broken knees but you made a fool of me. Sometimes I'm present and sometimes I'm not and somehow I forgot the past few months and I let you make a fool out of me.