The Story Of My Fucking Life


Posted by ilbebe on October 27, 2012

Something I’ve always blamed my early adulthood in Arcata for was a strong aversion to some sound ideas that for better or worse find themselves expressed very commonly on bumper stickers. In fact, much of their attendant vocabulary similarly raises my guard to this day- I will probably be forever wary of people using the word ‘community’, which after much deliberation, I have decided is just an unfortunate reality and not, as I have sometimes feared when I think about it, evidence of a hopeless heart of stone.

The upside to this whole condition is that I can still be knocked over when, alone at home on a Saturday, listening to some great tunes makes me nostalgic in the best way, the way that traverses a weird variety over the spectrum of good and bad feelings, and think about simple phrases in a nice little way that I haven’t done too many times before.

Love life.

-10:43PM 10/27/12, home.


One Response to “One-thirty-four”

  1. beltdrive said

    hiya, langy, I need buy you a cocktail. 🙂 your friend paul.

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