Am I striking a chord. I can barely decipher the random rambles of this Art-Piece sumtimes. Really I must have the Attention Span of an Eel, for real.
Work is drudgery. I can't the Master plan. I am drained.
What does it all mean.
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I went to see Joel's play Hearts and Minds, which tackled the issues of our Country's direction after 9-11. The main character is a black man being held in an interrogation room after eporting his bag stolen while traveling in an airport bound to Miami. It had a ton of nervouse tension, and some funny moments. I enjoyed the performances and felt like it maintained a lot of punch and stirred a lot of thoughts.
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Yesterday's Feist / Buck 65 show was supa-fun. I got a lil' tipsy, as evidenced by my previous post. Whatever was going on there. Ask me. Comment. Figure it out. o you people even read this Snazz.
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Lost in a surreal wasteland of surreal thoughts. Attempting to string enough of them together to grab your interest and spark your thirst. You the audience wrapped in your blankets, scared and hopeless. Be free, cast off your mental shackles, your irons. Dance with the spirits. Raise your own like a flagpole. Be the dance.
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I need to get on top of things with my website. I got Antonio hanging on the design. I am quite a procrastinator. I can really make that happen if you give me half a chance. Wasting my talents. I suppose.
Watched the Yankee game in typical veg-out fashion.
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