Rendezvous
08 December 09 : 12.22 AM
When I read somebody's blog, or say I look at somebody's social network profile, I can't help but wonder about the things that are inherently important to them. The things they inadvertently talk about, display, the way in which they communicate as well as many other less obvious signals that might make one come to a conclusion about them. If anything, then it's the self they wish others to see them as. Then there are those who voyeur into other people's cyber space yet never leaving a trail of their own for others.
I wish more intellectual things were important to me. Say I really really really like post-modern feminist literature and knew all about them. I like the beat movement a lot, and for the longest time I tried to imitate their writing and their lifestyle as much as I could without going out of the box, even before I knew there was a name for it yet. But even that didn't interest me much. Or maybe American politics. Or dadaist art. Or still photography. Or silent films. Diego Rivera and Robert Capa and Simone de Beauvoir and Franz Marc and Samuel Beckett and Garcia Loca and Salvador Dali and Michel Fokine and all the other names I can namedrop but elude me this moment.
Or things that are important to the majority of the people I know. Like how perhaps I really enjoy drinking! Posing in front of the camera! And taking pictures! Those fucking lomographic cameras and kitsche toys. And electronic music! Simian mobile disco and other shit. And talking about dogs! And meeting new men! Those rich tasteless ones waiting for a chance to talk about their branded cars. And traveling! And picking wine grapes off vineyards for the unsuspecting because that's what tourists do!
Then maybe I wouldn't feel so flimsy at this time of the night. Goodnight.