a friendly schoolmate let me borrow his comic book collection. everything was fine until under extreme mental distress, i began noticing reflections of my life in the comics. it was amusing until my death was foreshadowed and then came true according to book nine, i realized that in fact it was my life that was based on the comics. shortly after my death i was driven to suicide again, anguished by the lack of control i held over my fate. a few days later a girl from school dragged me down to her height by my tie and asked me to kiss her. i realized that this, too, was from the comic and, seeing an opportunity to break away from the book, i refused. when i had escaped to my home, i recieved a text message from her declaring she was making me lunch. i accepted hungrily but then broke into tears remembering book three, when the girl from school made lunch for the boy she likes. after finishing some math problems i began hasty construction of a hangman's noose in the flickering light of a fire on my bed fueled by the comics i had collected. during my work i was tormented by a feeling of forgetting something important. at seven i recieved another text message asking if i preferred rice or pasta. 'rice' i responded, measuring the strength of the noose against my foot. halfway through hanging myself i suddenly remembered that the boy died of choking on rice the day after failing to kill himself for the second time. dissapointed, i cut myself down and went to bed.
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lately, i've been listening to a lot of simple, country-esque or to be hipster about it, americana (yea hehe) music. there is a certain coming home vibe to it. makes me feel very much at ease--hold on, keep on reading, i'm not about to try and preach and all. listening to that kind of music makes everything seem simple and good and here is your bed, why don't you curl up and let momma sing you a lullabye.i thought this music is it. all's good, yea? no need to showcase technicality. no need for volume. everything's nice and pleasing. everything is all heart.but in japan, as i was watching radiohead, the only thing going inside my head is: no, no, no This is It. This is where it's at. To be completely juvenile: This is who i am.sure country-esque music, all that strumming and humming and all, pats my back. but radiohead, they make me want to be a better person. radiohead, i hope you're reading this. you're like who's-the-girl-opposite-jack nicholson-in-As Good as It Gets? you're like her and i'm saying: "You make me want to be a better man" only, change man to woman because i am a girl.i had wanted to write about the experience but i wasn't going to rush myself. you wanna know why? i want to give justice to the band and the music and the performance and the experience. yikes, there isn't a better way of saying it than in my native language: masukilan ko man lang kayo.am i sounding like an annoyingly earnest fuckface? sorry. it's just that the oct 2 was my first radiohead show. that was my first time in japan. and i met a man and and it wasn't casual or cheap or gross because that was a part of the whole radiohead experience . sorry, am i tmi-ing? apologies.there were a few times during the show when i had wanted, so badly, to close my eyes and allow music to take the lead. but fuck it, i needed to know, i needed to be sure that yes i was there. at the radiohead concert. oh, lookie, that's the band on stage. luckily, at the hostel i'm staying at, i met a french woman who had an extra oct 5 ticket. yes, i bought it for a double whammy extravagance.the music was more than enough. the band's presence was beyond my meter. at twice the love, now that's amazing. simply amazing.i'm sorry. it's just that i think all my friends have heard everything they needed to hear about the experience and here i am still a brimful, a month after. le effing sigh.so, yes, radiohead thank you. you don't just cradle me after a horrible day. your music makes me want to do things better, become a better person. it's where i thrive the most. so thank you.
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