Before landing on this page, you and I were only separated by a mere three degrees. Now we can be one on the web. That's not the definition of technological singularity but it should be.
With this tumblog, I promise kittens and balls of yarn for the kittens to play with. There will be some making out and a lot of hand-holding. I hope that when you are lonely and lost on the outmost corners of the interweb, you can come here and find yrself and feel the good vibrations. You are special and no one can touch that!
Your Pal Mal
For the past hour I’ve been lying on my floor listening to the same records I did when I was in late middle or early high school. They may not have been the best but they certainly have proved to be the most powerful. I’m not trying to be profound here, I’m just saying that music takes me back.
When I was maybe fifteen, a boy I knew from another school gave me a mixtape with El Scorcho on it. Attached he wrote a note explaining, “One time I made a girl a mixtape and actually put this song on hoping she’d get the idea that it was how I felt about her. How dumb, right? “ It took me a year to figure out that that girl was me. How dumb, right?
It’s not even the cute anecdotes that get me, really, but the highly texturized, somewhat droning songs that remind me of homes I’ve lived in which are cause for “repeat”.
