70 lines
4.2 KiB
Plaintext
70 lines
4.2 KiB
Plaintext
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_____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________
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| ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ |
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| | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | |
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| | /________/ | | / / /________/ | |
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| | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | |
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| |________________________________________________________________| |
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|____________________________________________________________________|
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...presents... About a Boy
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by Franken Gibe
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>>> a cDc publication.......1994 <<<
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-cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
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____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____
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|____digital_media____digital_culture____digital_media____digital_culture____|
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I have a picture I stole from this guy. It's of him, his face, between
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two other guys. One has a hairy chest and chains. The other guy looks sorta
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like your average frat rat. It's a strange pic. This guy who took it, the guy
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in the middle, is named Ben. He doesn't know I have the pic. He never will.
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He never knew I cared about him, or the stuff he made, the stuff we're supposed
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to call 'art.'
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I wonder about feeling disconnected. I mostly feel that way. Out of the
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loop. Desocialized. Lonely, I guess. I steal photos, I live from a distance.
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Worst of all, I live in the eyes of this third-person Other, who judges
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everything I do, who critiques my every move, my decisions, the fuckin' clothes
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I wear. I'm disconnected from myself. I don't know if I think, or if I'm
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thinking through the mind of this constructed third party. Who IS this Other,
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anyway? My ideal self? The person I'd like to fall in love with? Be with?
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Or maybe even... um... become. Yikes. Serious identity crisis. I don't wanna
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think about it.
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Anyway, Ben is real cool. He makes movies, like me. He's pretty. I
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wonder what he's up to. I don't know where he's gone. I sometimes pick up the
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photo he took, he made, and think about it. It's a little too gray. I guess
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he fucked up while processing it. There're some gas pumps behind. Maybe I'll
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imagine I'm the photographer, part of a life, or a time that I wasn't a part
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of. It's the saddest and most frustrating kind of imagining. I guess I'd have
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to be a little insane or schizophrenic or something to actually complete or
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perfect my dreams. I'd have to short-circuit my brain, bypass the reality, the
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fact that I don't REALLY know this guy, that I'm not really part of his life,
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or the moment snapped in the photo. I can't do it. Not even when i'm
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half-asleep and sorta drunk, or sick and sad and distracted. So I'll just
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pound away on the keys a little more, then stop.
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There.
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_______ __________________________________________________________________
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/ _ _ \|Demon Roach Undrgrnd.806/794-4362|Kingdom of Shit.....806/794-1842|
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((___)) |Cool Beans!..........415/648-PUNK|Polka AE {PW:KILL}..806/794-4362|
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[ x x ] |Metalland Southwest..713/579-2276|ATDT East...........617/350-STIF|
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\ / |The Works............617/861-8976|Ripco ][............312/528-5020|
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(' ') | Save yourself! Go outside! DO SOMETHING! |
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(U) |==================================================================|
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.ooM |Copyright (c) 1994 cDc communications and Franken Gibe. |
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\_______/|All Rights Reserved. 07/01/1994-#267|
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