In one week I'll be in Mexico searching for jazz or sex or soup, as I always am only in a different venue through a different set of eyes... when I'm in mexico I'm a different man... just like when I am in Ypsi I am done with ann arbor and how when i return home I feel like a child... anyway, I'm always searching for jazz or sex or soup, searching for a little ginsberg mixed into the mediums through which we communicate...
but what have we found nick? a little bit a jazz, not enough sex, and far too much soup, but where is the substance? where is the me that stands apart through time? is it the child that wants to touch everything? is it the anger that bites back every time I'm offended (I'm always offended)? or is it the intellectual me that I am trying to become?
substance? I hate to bring up the honor and integrity argument but all this searching has got me wondering just what I've found... I don't have any integrity, just a few friends and a lot of moments, moments that I would mind being defined by... though I often have to wonder just which ones you remember... I wonder what they remember in mexico where I rocked out two months two years ago where I drank every day, where I ran arm in arm with a few friends and a million bottles... this time I won't have my girl... this time I won't have my friend... this time it will just be me and the mexicans reminscing, living it up, and trying to recreate the moments...
just where am I going? so much hasn't poored out of me in a while; I don't think I have any honor and I certainly don't have any integrity; I'm always searching for jazz or sex or soup and i'm never really doing anything with it...