Wedding day forecast: rain
Barbara,
I was thinking about what was said, with friend Tamara, about anarchy, and the social ritual of weekends, and I thought, why not fuck things up this weekend. Inject a little of that anarchy.
I was well on the road, in my mind, before I stepped back and saw all the calculated moves I'd made.
I find myself driving to nowhere in particular. But there I am, doing it for the sake of doing it. I'm not there because it's the least likely thing for me to do, but because it's the most likely thing to do when you're in this mindstate of anarchy.
I think, what else can I do? Everything leads you to an ironic ending of conformity.
We are not individuals. It's all been done.
Anarchy doesn't exist.
posted by Martin at 01:00
1 comments
1 Comments:
Dissection:
Title: Ironic - Alanis Morissette.
Tamara, was it really about wanting anarchy, or thinking that going out is getting old in its mundanity, or about coming up with new stuff to do? Something else, completely?
On the Road - Jack Kerouac
My going on the road was a good knee-jerk, I think. I think it would be hard to experience disorder at home, where one is too comfortable.
I also took the cue from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, in going somewhere for the weekend. But, you see, there is the calculation, the order in the apparent disorder.
I didn't try too hard to come up with something else. I'd already made up my mind: Anarchy doesn't exist. Just do what you want to do.
"Yes, we are all individuals." - Monty Python
[I thought I needed to clean up my late-night rambling.]
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