regarding rap music
A strange weekend with regard to sleep. Little patches here and there. (Writing this on Sunday afternoon.) I've become convinced of the value of moments of self-enforced mental isolation. At work or in crowds now I force myself to not speak for periods of time and shut out external sensory stimuli as completely as possible. Then I try to populate the spaces around me with people and things of my own imagining. (Usually they turn out to be large humanoid insects.) I find this calms me and I get ideas. fuerzabruta is a fascinating thing. P. took me. In one setpiece, a transparent ceiling is lowered to head-height (the audience stands for the entire show) and covered in water, and then lightly-clad, nymph-like women cavort on it. Friday I went to a program where I volunteer twice a week with little kids who are doing creative writing; I'm helping a kid named Vincent write a story about a killer plant. He's a startlingly good storyteller; he's nine years old. Yesterday I remained supine in my apartment. In the evening, dinner with Tom, birthday party of coworker, palm-reading and night-long conversation session with E. Didn't sleep til almost dawn. For today: isolation, silence, pomegranate juice, and pastries.