hirez: More graf. Same place as the other one. (Default)
[personal profile] hirez
In hell. There are your imperfect memories, safe from harm and fun to look
it. Here is fingernail-scraping reality: All of what happened, all the time.
Embarassment, awkwardness, inappropriate drunkenness. Hell is perfect,
malevolent recall of every dumb thing you ever did - friends don't tell
friends what they did last night.

Date: 2002-11-15 09:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] quercus.livejournal.com

So what did you do last night ?

PS - There's a definite Cronin resemblance in that picture.

Date: 2002-11-15 09:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] missfairchild.livejournal.com
Much curiosity. And yet something is telling me don't ask...

Date: 2002-11-15 10:45 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ladycat.livejournal.com
*hug* I hope things improve, but even at this I cannot help but be impressed that you manage to say all that I blurted out loudly and ashamedly yesterday in such a lovely opaque way.

When can we attend Hirez writing master classes?

Date: 2002-11-15 12:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jarkman.livejournal.com
I'm (eloquently) reminded of my childhood, and not in a good way

Date: 2002-11-16 08:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hirez.livejournal.com
Tediously prosaic explanation, I fear.

Was grovelling through mail archive in search of a phrase - 'The Empire heavy-lift and intra-orbital navigation company' - and found that as well.

If it's about anything (and it seems to mean a set of different things for different people, which is a good thing) at all, it concerns attempts to re-run a club-night-thing or some other random doomed youth-reliving malarkey. I don't want things remembered for me wholesale, because, well...

Here's its companion piece. Rendered in a fit of drunken anger after being forced to view the Mission.

Nostalgia's for bastards too tired to think for themselves, so they
return to hide in some mythical golden age where the speed was always
top quality and the hitching was easy. The fact that there are bands
that I respected at one time who'll take the Man's Shilling and turn
the same old toss out night on night depresses me intensely - but
then I don't have to go see them, and what's another twatty
tribute-band at the end of the day? Bunch of plumbers disguised as
musicians: clock on, rock out, fuck off.

May 2025

S M T W T F S
    123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
2526272829 3031

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Mar. 22nd, 2026 01:54 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios