Very aware that revisiting stuff with which you’re not entirely-familiar yields mixed reactions.
I’ve written a lot about the revelation that re-listening to Exile In Guyville was.
Latest thing?
Totes-didn’t-used-to-do-evil video site has been giving me lots of Nirvana lately.
Hmm. I’ll go re-listen to Bleach, something I probably haven’t done since about 1996.
It’s kind of what I remember, and expected.
Was it good? Again, hmm. (And now Marin Mull is slipping through my scarred brain…)
It fits with the time. Not nearly as good as Nevermind, but that’s kind of to be expected.
It’s uncomfortably hot here. Get drinks delivered. Let’s look for liquor delivery. Okay. There is one. And they’ve got World Cup specials. Segram’s 7. Ooh! I’ll try to make a 7&7! The liquor was the easy part; nobody had 7-Up. Like nobody. I seem to remember there being something about that on Numlock not long ago, but I’m too out of it to find the story.
Oh well. Try it with club soda. Unimpressed.
So, scanned prompts.
“What does it mean to be a work in progress?”
The subtitle of this shitty blog should probably provide some insight. Nothing is ever truly finished, and everything gets deleted.
How much you can learn from past errors is questionable, but few things ever remain exactly as they were.
Circling back to Nirvana, Smells Like Teen Spirit sounded completely different after mixing. What Kurt Cobain described as a peppy song turned darker.
And, yes, I was, and still am, entertained.
“How can I be gentler with myself in the process?”
I’m actually wondering if this scanned correctly. But it’s unimportant. Wherever I could have been my greatest self is in a fading rear-view. I’m broken. I’m almost certain that even if in the unlikely event that my various MS maladies are “cured,” I’m still on the downslope of life. There’s no memorable achievements ahead. So, fight entropy, and hope some people who care about me outlive me, and remember me fondly.
Wonder if the AI review would say that that’s raw, honest.