i had walentine’s day off, and i decided to get drunk and go for an adventure. i ate some wheat, foolish me. feel like i’ve been poisoned! hungover for days. hahaha. oh well, oh well. fever, clog and doubt. i hope we’re all learning some lessons.

why are half the youtube videos in my next up a man looking somber into the camera with his hands clasped with the caption “Why I stopped eating rice krispies after midnight”. 
staring at me with the eyes of an apology video “Why I’ll never look at the moon again”

my op-1 field started dying, gotta send it back to Sweden. i tried to fix it and made it worse. i’ll be getting something new for our trip to Lizard. it’s next friday. the next update will come from the bottom of england’s tail end.

watching some recently uploaded rap battles. soul khan still has it.

it’s so much work to figure out who you are. when something is so beautiful that you can’t quite express it, that’s about as good as you can feel. i watched all of this man’s videos: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lSpl4DVFsQU. i really highly recommend it. they are strange and unspeakably beautiful. i am in love with this man.

my days and nights have been spent organizing samplepacks and making multisample synths and kits so that when i get the Synthstrom Deluge i will hit the ground running. i’ve forked the firmware and added a patch.

that balance between what you need and what you want… that’s hard, but it’s nothing compared to balancing your short term from your long.

i joined the discord voice chat dev huddle for the Deluge open source project. it seems very cute. i’m a really big fan of these people, and of this software and hardware. many are trannies.

i’ve learned that if you believe that everything will turn out well then in the bad times you’re like “that’s ok! i’m just getting to the good times!” and in the good times you say “hell yeah! told you so!”

tonight i went out for a walk with a microphone. i needed to pee so i hopped on a train. i hopped off at the next station. i played the piano. i met a man who’d once successfully pleaded not guilty against charges under the obscene publication act. he didn’t introduce himself to me that way, but i independently learned that to be true. he was very kind and interesting and friendly and i promised to come over to his house and make him a cup of tea. he will introduce me to his pianist. and i finally went to Lebanese Express #1. fine vine leaves at that restaurant.

and it’s hard to give somebody what they need if it isn’t what they want. or what you want.

i hope i’m well enough to work tomorrow. but if i’m not well, well, that’ll work.

it’s 1am, by mistake. i’ll eat a little snack and drink a little more and then wake up where i’m sitting now. this weeks’ gonna be stupid but next week’ll be fire.

i’m in the back of a taxi cab. the tunnel is closed under the water. there’s so much traffic that our driver has started playing music. i didn’t notice until then that Bolt cabs rarely have music playing? he asked permission? we’re all listening to madhur sharma now. our driver is singing along.

many congratulations to lb. i’m so happy to see you so happy.

a thing that’s been happening stops happening tomorrow, it’ll be better after. lucky numbers is out on wednesday. i’ve started working on the new e.p. already, it’s got a couple good songs on it too. been listening to björk and 90s ny hiphop and nola bounce. cameron paul brown beats on repeat. need to get my hands on a QY70 and sit on the rocks at the end of england and tell a story.

sometimes when she is falling asleep she starts shaking like she’s about to turn into a bigger pokemon. the big highlight, of course, is that guy in the alley with the trenchcoat and cane and the stony expression showing no fear locking our eyes, smoking his cigarette and listening to 40s music from an invisible speaker. if life is a tv show we are all extras except for that guy.

reminded of OpenCola by Cory writing in the pink paper. there’s 100 metric tons of legal coca leaf sitting in a factory in New Jersey
.

my shoulders hurt, so i’m going home to see my mattress about a nap. tomorrow will be a better day than yesterday and yesterday was pretty good.

Please forward any incoming mail to my new address: 123 Easy Street, Fat City.

one for sorrow, but magpies mate for life. if you look closely you can find the joy.

quiet week. ate some pickles. went home and picked up a cookbook. i released lucky numbers, it’ll be on iTunes and streaming services on feb 14th. put it in your calendar. pre-save it on spotify. or buy it on bandcamp if you can’t wait. it’s as good as the cover. so will the next one be.

we listened to quiet party on the tv

booked a little holiday. going away at the end of feb. going to Lizard, Cornwall. the bottom of england, the southernmost point. it’ll be good. spend a few days doing nothing, nowhere. spend a few days doing everything else. it’ll be good.

we watched season 1 of lodge 49 this week, it’s my favourite television programme. i’ve watched it a lot of times now. on friday night we broke our diet for a day and ate some chocolate and a v tasty vegetarian burrito from the highly aesthetic cafe mexicana. then we drank some hard seltzer, ate some mushrooms and went to soho. we had a drink at a bar and then went home again. i nearly fainted on the central line but i held it together and sang.

chee having lipstick applied by zaina on the underground. we're wearing matching sunglasses. mine are blue and hers are brown.
really a very fantastic and interesting individual who is unexpectedly up for living, and who i hope i will spend many more hours with before we both die.

saturday was slow and quiet. i’ve been in a strange place and trying to fix it. i went home on friday night to see what space felt like. we talked on the phone and then watched episode 1 of lodge 49 season 2 then z came over with a suitcase full of pillows. in the morning we went to see wonka on Rhys’s recommendation. i never really expected to see Wonka, but i’ve never seen Rhys more animated about anything in his life than when he was talking about Wonka. at the time his passion seemed so uncharacteristic, but not anymore. he was right, Wonka is great. i cried and was wet and then went home.

now i’m lying in my bed thinking about how nice it would be to eat several hundred sandwiches, thinking about packing a suitcase, thinking about making some music, thinking about camden market, thinking about reading a little or writing, thinking about lime and parsley, quiet party. there’s 3% battery life left in my computer so i’ll post this before it dies.