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Aug. 10th, 2006 09:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xinjinmeng
:Evenings are quiet. Spent some time strolling in Gaslichtenstraße. For someone who is chronologically very young, I feel rather old. Perhaps it is because I am rather stuffy and standoffish. Of course, it isn't my fault that everyone else is lackadaisical, now, is it?
Wherever I walked, coffee and alcohol were in immediate supply. The aged buildings with advanced decrepitude were filled with rebellious neophytes, all shouting and wailing in their struggle for identity and for meaning. As I nursed my demitasse, I sat and watched the local musicians practice their craft. What they lacked in skill, they attempted to compensate with enthusiasm. It brought my spirits up a bit, so I suppose they were successful. The possibility of the world lays before them -- and before me, really.
At one establishment, they practiced an amateur musicianship called "kara-oke", where a machine plays pre-recorded music and uses video to display lyrics so that the participant may sing them at designated times. Since I have promised to be more forthcoming, after an hour or so I forced myself to participate. Ugh -- despite my regression, my muscle memory has yet to return, and my pipes are in awful presentation; my audience was either too unsophisticated or too enthusiastic to criticize me, and I was thankful. The machine's ouevre was mostly latter-day populist. I selected a unfamiliar song by The Split Ends ensemble, entitled "History Never Repeats." It had a simple time signature and repeated refrains. I found comfort in its simplicity.
The whole evening, I only received one solicitation, from a chimera of wolf, lion, and tiger stock, whose behavior and appearance were decidedly masculine. It was just as well -- I was seeking comfort, not congress, and coy repartee often livens my spirit even if it boils others' blood. And yes, dear reader, I suppose I still carry the scars from the accusations of wantonness.
As I made my way home, I was still whistling the familiar tune, and pondering the populist song's copy: "Better to jump than hesitate / I need a change and I can't wait." I still ponder the message.
Later: Herunterholen with thallium telluride. Somewhat forced and unsatisfying.
Wherever I walked, coffee and alcohol were in immediate supply. The aged buildings with advanced decrepitude were filled with rebellious neophytes, all shouting and wailing in their struggle for identity and for meaning. As I nursed my demitasse, I sat and watched the local musicians practice their craft. What they lacked in skill, they attempted to compensate with enthusiasm. It brought my spirits up a bit, so I suppose they were successful. The possibility of the world lays before them -- and before me, really.
At one establishment, they practiced an amateur musicianship called "kara-oke", where a machine plays pre-recorded music and uses video to display lyrics so that the participant may sing them at designated times. Since I have promised to be more forthcoming, after an hour or so I forced myself to participate. Ugh -- despite my regression, my muscle memory has yet to return, and my pipes are in awful presentation; my audience was either too unsophisticated or too enthusiastic to criticize me, and I was thankful. The machine's ouevre was mostly latter-day populist. I selected a unfamiliar song by The Split Ends ensemble, entitled "History Never Repeats." It had a simple time signature and repeated refrains. I found comfort in its simplicity.
The whole evening, I only received one solicitation, from a chimera of wolf, lion, and tiger stock, whose behavior and appearance were decidedly masculine. It was just as well -- I was seeking comfort, not congress, and coy repartee often livens my spirit even if it boils others' blood. And yes, dear reader, I suppose I still carry the scars from the accusations of wantonness.
As I made my way home, I was still whistling the familiar tune, and pondering the populist song's copy: "Better to jump than hesitate / I need a change and I can't wait." I still ponder the message.
Later: Herunterholen with thallium telluride. Somewhat forced and unsatisfying.
