rage, riot, rile, rrrrr

i'm not actually mad about anything right now, i just like getting revved up about stuff. rrrrs = action, seems like.

we're starting a girl band. we're going to call ourselves 'bag of hair.' when i told will i said it's a name kind of like feminist art and he brought up the exact adrian piper piece i was thinking about. what will become of me?

ghosts!! existentially, that is what i think. i will become (am) an idea in other peoples' minds, memories, consciousnesses (is there a better way to pluralize that?) and i'll ghost around, linger. until i don't. maybe i'll have a gravestone and some kid will run a crayon over some paper over my name and that will be me, a ghost ghost ghost.

i don't know entirely what we'll sound like, but i want our band to sound like a genre that doesn't exist: feathercore.
(i work for that company now, btb.)

one time for work i had to strap a male underwear model into a pair of black costume wings and while i did we talked about ghosts. so now we're kind of chummy. after the wings were placed correctly i moved away and bopped his shoulder in a chummy way, but then he wasn't wearing a shirt so it was skin-to-skin. that was kind of weird because i hardly ever knock people on the shoulder in a chummy way and i've never chummily punched a shirtless person. but i don't really want to be chummy with models. i just want to hear about spirits and radio noise and brownstones.