Compartmentalization

This past Saturday, I decided to buy the large, squared Moleskine journal -- 240 luxurious acid-free 13 x 21cm pages of row after row and column after column of boxes. While it's beautiful, I'm not sure how many paper journals I've owned. A lot. I've lost count. That is to say: I've never been able to spill enough of my head to fill a single journal past the fourth or fifth page without suffering severe discomfort. I'm prone to self editing just in case my secrets should fall under the inspection of an older, wiser version of myself, who would deem his past pitiful or unremarkable.

"Goddamn fool. Egoist. Moron."

I bought this journal because I like grids. I like to box my ideas. Everything requires a label. Isn't that the fundamental purpose of language? I wish I could box people, but I'm a mostly a pacifist. Put me in a Rubik's Cube.

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Here. Enjoy these songs dead links. I'll re-upload later.

Artist: The Mae Shi
Album: Terrorbird
Song: Hieronymus Bosch Is A Dead Man

Artist: Poe
Album: Haunted
Song: Spanish Doll

Artist: Cat Power
Album: The Greatest
Song: Hate