Kurrs' Digital Tapestry of Words

Tonight I dressed all tragic with a dash of soul; a particular sense of style that I particularly like. The words all the pigs, all lined up scrawled down my left arm in faded script on a shirt from a tour from a decade ago this year. A dragon curled around my left ankle. Drealocks pulled back in a black head covering and big black and grey sneakers. The whole look like breakdancing to a Manson song.

I often dress to match my mood, and I wasn't sad when I dressed this evening. Instead, in a moment of nostalgia, I pulled on the outfit and smiled to myself because I really do appreciate the aesthetic, even when lacking the emotional upset that normally brings it on.

Who doesn't want to sleep with Chris?

Odd, I'm filling that role again and I didn't even notice. Angus berates me for a history of complaining about that, but I thought I left that behind. Cycles I suppose: the new black turning into the old yellow and then back again. Or some such. The simple answer, which it always has been, is all the wrong people.

This time round, I'm lucky enough that it isn't 100% true.

Tonight was Quickie Culture Night at James Everett's. It was pretty freaking fantastic. Highlights included the music video to Nine Inch Nail's Only, the grease fight scene in The Transporter to the song Soccer Practice, and the muppets homage in black and white. I mention only things I didn't bring, because, well, if I didn't like it I wouldn't have brought it. I'm sure there was other cool stuff, but that's what's sticking out in my mind.

I am tired. Not body-tired, but more weary. Some browsing, then probably some eating, but then bed. The last thought I seem to possess is that I have an excess of love and frankly don't know how to operate with it all.