On Getting Old (1/whatever number of posts I can muster before biochemistry catches up with me; I’m going to need more duct tape and Gorilla Glue© even to make it to 35.

Help? When I was in the Green Room in LA, having had hair & makeup done, while the other two were chatting amicably (something I’m much better at when it’s via text rather than face-to-face — I will deign to take responsibility for this one; I have tried any number of reactive therapies) helped, really, but I’m putting this on severe depression/anxiety disorder) with the various staff, in preparation for our upcoming bout on Jeopardy!, I sat in a corner, iPod (remember those?) in hand, listening to “I Don’t Wanna Hear It” on repeat. Minor Threat  was raw, kick-you-in the balls-while-wearing-steel-toed-boots kind of shit. Hardcore at its pinnacle. 

Now I’m sitting here, working on an article about Kafka, Hegel, Kundera & the concept of historical cycles w a sleeping cat about a meter away, with a Taylor Swift track (“Shake It Off”, which is annoyingly catchy) stuck in my head. 

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~ by Benji on 24 August 2017.

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