Mental Constipation

Hey, little Apple Blossom
What seems to be the problem?
All the ones you tell your troubles to
They don’t really care for you

Come and tell me what you’re thinking
Cause just when the boat is sinking
A little light is blinking
And I will come and rescue you

Lots of girls walk around in tears
But thats not for you
You’ve been looking all around for years
For someone to tell your troubles to

Come and sit with me and talk awhile
Let me see your pretty little smile
Put your troubles in a little pile
And I will sort them out for you

If it only were that simple. Just heard this; for something to be this close, by that band.. makes me question coincidence.

I’ve moved out! My home is now a tiny bedsit; one out of 34 “temporary mobile housing units” positioned in the industrial part of town. It’s actually right next to the infamous celluloid factory which regularly spews out the week-old-cabbage smell for which the city is known. The city in question, of course, is Moss, a coastal town in the county of Eastfold. Like all of these Eastfoldian cities, it is like a miniature of a real city, where pretty much everything can be found but on a much smaller scale. A quick stroll around town yesterday revealed to me a number of curiosities:

The city’s serene docklands, complete with rusty, decommissioned ships and couples out for a walk gazing quietly into the sunset, only interrupted by the murmur of machinery from across the bay.

A seedy-looking Asian place called Saigon Café, closed for the evening, where the owner sat on a chair in the middle of the room, head in hands.

An old, faded commercial on a brick wall.

Some place called The Prosthetics Laboratory!

A triangle-shaped building with curved edges built at an intersection.

Incredible details on an old building’s facade – a carved elephant which would be almost life-like, if it weren’t so small.

In fact, that sculputre is a good metaphor for the city as a whole. Everything here could be so urban and beautiful, if the builders wouldn’t have to limit themselves to four or five stories. Maybe then everything wouldn’t feel so diminutive. Still, it’s a vast improvement, and I’m happy just being able to open my window and hear the dogs baying, seagulls screeching and the factory droning on just a stone’s throw away.

Subway ramblings from today:

Strong desire to write. People are looking. Pretending to write notes about subway. Hemingway is in my head, as I’m currently reading A Moveable Feast, and I have to write him out. Will compose list of adjectives. Callous. Illusory. Unsavory. Rule of repetition is three, five, seven.
Really, I have to expand my sentences. Old Ernest is compelling me to break the rules of grammar. Many sentences – truisms all  flew through my head as I was walking through the subway station. Here are a few:

• Asian people’s faces have such a capacity for sorrow.
• Though the man’s outfit was blatantly generic, there was something entirely novel about it.
• As the subwaycar pulls out of the station, there is an eye-to-eye confrontation between the passengers on it and the waiting passengers outside.
• The man was so curious, he was peeking over his shoulder even before he sat down next to me.
• Walking briskly towards me was a bald-headed man wearing a bright green summer shirt and a pair of way-too-shorts.

I made a tumblr-account! Finally decided to start posting today, it will have pictures mainly, while I’ll keep on rambling here (see what I did there?).

as the title says, I can be found at www.keeponrambling.tumblr.com

Closing your eyes to the sun makes the whole world blue.

I think

Pink Floyd is better with Syd Barrett.
AC/DC is better with Bon Scott.
Joy Division is better than New Order.

does this make me an asinine purist?

Still going to narrow down my taste in music to five bands. After realizing it’s been practically the only band I’ve been listening to for the last couple of weeks, I have to add:

The Smiths
These post-punkers occupy an interesting space between punk’s destructionism and the new romantic baroque syndrome – determined not to be like either genre they created their own sound, stripped down yet rich. With only one guitar, bass, drums, vocals – and no synthesizers! – The Smiths composed four albums filled with top-quality, jangle-pop melodies that resonate melancholy and soul. Singer Morrissey’s haunting vocals and lyrics are what really makes the band unique though, perfectly suitable to their particular brand of youthful confusion.

obligatory EDIT: I would just like to comment that the central theme of these days is Conclusion. Everything is coming to a close, and life is finally moving on to something other than the rigid schedule it has followed for so long. Turns out all I hoped for came true in a way, at least the basic idea: changing the status quo. And wow, did it change. But I hate to get too personal and uncryptic – suffice to say I am satisfied.
:)

I forgot the International Towel Day. Again. Last year, when I discovered I had forgotten it, I wrote a note in my calendar so I would remember it this year. The calender was on my cell phone. Which I lost the 1st of May. Fuck.

Dear blog,
just now, I ate so much, a little bit of me died as I got up from the dinner table.

Still thinking about my top 5 list, but it’s difficult. The ones I have were pretty easy because they are so unique; everyone can say they love Bob Dylan or 2pac or whatever, because their music is everywhere, but because such artists are considered classics the quality of their music is almost a given. I guess I’m looking for something with a more special sound.

While I’m still deciding, though, here are two songs I absolutely hate:

Graceland, by Paul Simon
Holy shit, how I hate this song. I mean, seriously, “The Mississippi Delta was shining like a national guitar“. What the fuck? I can’t really listen to the song very long before I start throwing violent fits, but I’m pretty sure it’s about some pedophile who’s driving to Graceland with his kidnapped son.

Big Yellow Taxi, covered by Counting Crows
Christ, it’s just too horrible. Made even worse by the fact that I for many years thought they sang “big paradise put up a parking lot”, this song is just too much to bear. It’s just too.. incredibly.. cheesy. The nasal vocals of that douchebag singer.. and just look at how the guys move on stage! Someone should put them down.

I was going to make it a top 3 and include This Love by Maroon 5 as well, but that song is really just cringe-worthy and awkward, compared to the seizure-inducing nausea fests above. Don’t worry though, there’s plenty more hate where that’s coming from.

Oh, and anything by Smash Mouth.

So I’m compiling a list of my top 5 favorite bands/artists.. only two definites so far:

Cherry Poppin’ Daddies
This swing-revival act was formed in the late 80’s, and released several albums throughout the 90’s. They attained minor fame for their danceable neo-swing music, but have since experimented in many different genres, producing a rich variety of songs – ska, rock, punk and beat music being just a few of the styles in their repertoire. Whatever the genre though, they always retain their rowdy but down-to-earth and sincere flavor.

Equicez
A Norwegian hip-hop duo consisting of the two members Cast and F’em One. Their first and only album, State of Emergency, elegantly mixes paranoid, apocalyptic lyrics with hilarious dissing of both themselves and others, while at the same time allowing for a few more serious songs and even a psychedelic rock/rap crossover. Add to this the top-quality, detailed production and the incredible delivery from both artists, and you get an amazing, world-class album.

Not too sure about the others. I’m leaning towards The Smiths, but I haven’t really listened to them for a very long time, and I want the list to represent all (or at least most of) the music that I like. What would you put in your top 5? Comment below :)

EDIT: In other news (or whatever), I’m seriously considering moving my blog to Tumblr. It has so many awesome features! I’ve become addicted to photoblogs lately and I want to have one for myself. Trouble is, www.mentalconstipation.tumblr.com is taken, and there is no way of contacting the bastard who has it, so I’ll have to come up with a new moniker, or start a different Tumblr altogether.. Decisions, decisions.