Violent Reactions to Some

There are people out there that I know/have known and that make me want to vomit. I just encountered one on the internet, gagged and then this tick that sometimes happens to me... happened... I kind of snap my head to the right four or five times saying "Fuck [whomever should be fucked.]"

I've been going back and reading a lot of Lester Bangs. He was the dude who, in eighth grade, pretty much convinced me that becoming a rock writer was the dream. Bangs is just on a level above anybody else... I have no idea where he gets this shit. After months of reading Spin and Rolling Stone, my dad got me Mainlines, Bloodfeasts and Bad Taste: A Lester Bangs Reader. Shortly thereafter, I did a project for Mr. Fox's typing class on a career. Journalist. So I guess I'm going to make it a project over the next day... week... month to just sit, listen to records, write and try to get on his level. I think my stuff has gotten too Pitchfork. Not enough Lester, you know?

I put Mezzanine on for like, the millionth time this year. This is such heavy shit. Just dense levels of electronic percussion; vocals draped in sex, shade and mystery; wavering synths. Bristol baby, 1998, what's good?! Nothing, obviously. It sounds like it just rains and people stare out windows on public transport.

I don't go to lunch anymore. I just sit in the library. I love being anti- at school and nothing but loving and delightful outside. Those walls make me sick.

Movie Night tonight... sans movies, with the addition of Lucky Strikes. I love my extended family. That is, those people I spend time with.

UPDATE:
M83's new one Saturdays=Youth is a, forgive me, thing of beauty. If you know me, there is the obvious reason (that it is indeed an album about youth). It's heavily nostalgic, idealistically high school, unabashedly 80s and as ethereal as your mother's womb or your poster-laden, messy bedroom. Not to mention, the cover is awesome. It makes me think Lucas meets Donnie Darko meets Breakfast Club.