living just to keep going - going just to be sane - all the while I know its - such a shame

it’s been hard to update, due to the fact that i have no working home computers right now. i think we have at least four or five sitting around the house - four or five buckets of junk, decades-old hard drives that probably have less space than my current, yet already outdated, phone.

i’ve been reading a lot of chuck klosterman. i’m telling you… my dream is to do exactly what he does (professionally speaking anyway)… writing for rock mags and blogging and having his stories/novels/essays/whatever published… god. it gives me something to strive for. if that guy can wax intellectual about zach morris and black metal, then goddamnit, so can i.

but i can’t even think clearly right now. i have so much going on. good and bad. but here! look at my new tattoo. tattoos make everything better.


new dreams, crowding out old realities

classic, indecisive kimmy.

not sure if i will abandon this blog and continue with my tumblr account, or perhaps i can keep both, in some sort of jekyll-and-hyde fashion of duality (staying true to my recent-but-always-known diagnosis of bipolar deux - thousands of dollars to tell me something i've always known, thank you so much).

who knows. who cares. does anyone even read this?

i'm performing our one and noble function of our time: MOVE


“Love! What is it?

Most natural painkiller what there is.



but hey. there's this. or this.

or best of all:

disappear here


fuck this fucking weather.

i get cabin fever something fierce, and yet, my brain just goes stagnant.


i hate feeling consistently on edge. just one day where i didn't have to worry or feel like the world was crashing down on me... it'd sure be nice.




try it sometime... it's almost like being there... it's the closest i'll probably ever get to it anyway.


satellite of love

oh man. the fucking cure. disintegration, pornography, faith, ...

this has been my monday morning so far. my monday morning mixtape, monday morning for *you*... special. drive in saturday, computer love, the passenger. rock and roll suicide. perfect day.

oh, and hey, here's some more kraftwerk for you. the best kraftwerk song, ever. on stylophone.

so, true to form, kel and i did miss out on the aforementioned (posted earlier) corey feldman film festival... but hopefully we'll follow through with this.

spoiler alert, possibly.

ALSO, i was thoroughly disappointed with black swan. i'm sorry. i was.

and i love darren aronofsky, which makes it worse.

pretty much the best thing about the movie was the love scene. which was also disappointing, only because they talked it up so much. and not to give anything away but the film was just full of cop-outs.

i hate the 'it's all in your head' bullshit. that's just a cop-out if you ask me.
kelli, sunday, january 16:

'stop ian curtis suiciding over there!!'

what? no funny?


i fucking love this kid with all my heart. no matter what happens to me, or to him, or to us simultaneously. he's the best.

still, though, i'm feeling like the captain of the titanic. or maybe more than that, i'm like one of those musicians. whether it was foolish devotion, or (still foolish) loyalty, stubbornness, fear, whatever the fuck it was.... it's gonna take me down too.

you took my heart and you hocked it.

'mother i tried please believe me, i'm doing the best that I can. i'm ashamed of the things i've been put through, i'm ashamed of the person I am'

these are dark days.

really dark days.

i would like to think that there's some security, in anything i do... but there isn't.

it's the most terrifying thing. i'm living without a net.

and i am consistently one step away from just... well... i don't even know. doing something drastic, dramatic, and stupid.

it's my own fault for having idiots for idols, but...

'she gave away the secrets of her past and said, i've lost control again'

i'm sorry i'm such a lout. i really am. even my closest friends can attest to my... i could only describe it as flakiness, but it's not as easy as that...

i can't explain it, and i guess i shouldn't. just makes me sound like more of an asshole. but i guess that's the truth and i shouldn't bother avoiding it.

but i am sorry.

'see my true reflection, cut off my own connections. i can see life getting harder. so sad is this sensation, reverse the situation. i can't see it getting better...'



the good life is out there somewhere

so stay on my arm, you little charmer


typecast forgotten young saviours

"don't you know it takes something more to cope with these problems, this stress. This i can take but the way some people look at me, the way some people talk, really gets me down. this is all i want. this is all i came for. this is my life"


be like the kettle and sing!

"the yearnings of two hearts create such heavenly pain"

such freudian slips will no longer be tolerated, dear. i'm calling the whole thing off.

someone caught me listening to the smiths on my way in to work this morning. i believe his words were along the lines of, "why on earth would you subject yourself to morrissey that early in the morning?!" and later, "it's like you're setting yourself up for suicide..."

okay that last line was embellished just a bit (replace 'suicide' with 'a bad day'). but i know that's what he was thinking.

and what was i thinking? we need public service announcements for this exact problem - you know it, i blogged it yesterday, rob gordon's initial monologue is a cautionary tale of the same:

music can be hazardous to your health.

like, if you just broke up with a boyfriend, refrain from listening to jeff buckley's grace or the postal service's give up. If you're struggling with work, bills, and adulthood, do NOT under any circumstance listen to "bastards of young" by the replacements. get where i'm going?

anyway... my coworker was right. i really should not have listened to the smiths this morning. my whole day. completely ruined. thanks, steven!


caroline, yes.

33.3 Art Show.

Thirty three and a third artists and designers reinterpret and reimagine existing album covers.

but i'm still fond of you, oh-oh-a-oh

sam cooke. you send me. bee-yoo-ti-ful (if i were andy warhol, oooooh)

sometimes, certain songs can stir such emotions in me, such strong emotions, that i literally have to stop listening.

it's not always sadness, either. sometimes i just get so overwhelmed with fondness for certain people, certain situations, i guess it would be love? but love isn't an emotion, maybe it's happiness...? the giddy, full, warm feeling, knowing that you have these amazing people in your life. people that, no matter how bad it gets, they just have that capability to make everything tolerable, even enjoyable.

it makes me smile to the point of exhaustion, makes me brim with silly tears. bee-yoo-ti-ful.


whoa there, girl. two posts in one day.

oddness abounds. next sunday my best gal, kelqui, and i are attending a haim/feldman film festival at the hollywood cinemas in woodridge, il. at least, that's the plan as of right now. you can never tell with the two of us.

i just signed up to become a member on turner classic movies' main site. for no real reason other than it's all i've been watching lately, i feel as if robert osborne and ben mankiewicz are intimates of mine, practically.

god! i'm a dork. i know it, i'm okay with it at least.

'you all may be her beaus, but i taught Josie all she knows'

wild wild wild youth (insert claps)

i can't, i'm sworn to secrecy. but wouldn't you love to know?

my writing is prolific, and yet, i'm not doing anything challenging, anything new.

i've never been good at balancing, i've always plunged headfirst into endeavors while forgetting even important things. there are definitely people that i miss and that i want to see or talk to. i'm just so notoriously bad at it. at being social. evenly social, i guess. i'm either climbing the rafters or bedridden for weeks.

and this isn't even making the least bit of sense, i know, but maybe it will to a few of you.

it's not an apology, just an explanation.

but really, i am the worst.

addendum: this book is pretty damned good.


a comedy for those who think; and a tragedy for those who feel

new, shiny, excitedness:

so i am working with my awesome cousin on a possible novel. i don't know what will come of it, but we are at least going to collaborate, share some ideas, see where it goes. i am truly excited. it's a lot cooler when you get to share these kinds of things with your family.

i am also currently working with other family members on transcribing some of my grandfather's war-era letters... which again, makes me really happy to be collaborating with my family, on our own history.

i don't suppose it has much to do with being italian, but maybe it does, who knows. family is just important to me. whether is bound by blood or otherwise.

blahhhh. wanna do up the west coast somethin' fierce.


tragedy plus time...

so, happy 2011???

i tell you, i slept right through it.

sometimes i feel like pulling an anna karenina.

but enough of the maudlin. really. i did recently watch get him to the greek, and not two days later, my favorite year, and really, aren't they quite similar? russell brand playing the inebriated, washed up rockstar, peter otoole playing the inebriated, washed up screen idol. that jonah hill guy's character, no different really from the guy from perfect strangers whose name i can't recall at the moment...

ghttg doesn't hold a candle to my favorite year though. watching peter otoole leap onto the policeman's horse in the park, or swinging down from the balcony at 30 rock... really, just wonderful performances. why can't they seem to make movies like they used to? have they really run out of ideas?

BUT OH MY GOD. OMYEFFINGGOD. Sam Riley as SAL PARADISE. I cannot fucking wait.

i've been staying in quite a bit. i also was able to catch scott pilgrim vs. the world (decent), 500 days of summer (sad), singin' in the rain (can you believe i've never seen it before? oh, gene kelly, how have i never appreciated your beauty?!), and this wonderful movie with cary grant and his at-the-time wife, where they adopted two children, in addition to the three they already had... can't remember the name but it was really quite sweet. also roman holiday, for the hundredth time, and walk the line... i tell you, some movies are just like comfort food to me.

i also just finished honey, by honey bruce... the sordid story of lenny's 'shady lady'... it's really sad, what did you expect? i think lenny had a lot in common with another lonely junkie soul, johnny thunders. incapable of coping neither with real life, or with the stratospheres of success, they chose to selfdestruct, leaving behind snippets of brilliance in their wake. its unfortunate, the pull of the old push-and-pull, what the fuck makes people think it's something to be glamorized or sugarcoated? have you not SEEN, i mean REALLY TAKEN A GOOD LOOK at keith richards lately??? if you want to know the true ravages of narcotics, LOOK AT HIS FACE.

oy vey. there's your antidrug.