i'm not dead. despite what the absence of my presence on the internet might suggest.

I went to one of the seediest dive bars in Hell's Kitchen to see the sexy magazines last night, bent on rocking the fuck out. Because no band ever needs another wussy self-conscious fan standing in the front with her arms crossed reluctant to thrash and dance at the risk of looking stupid, easily mistaken for an unimpressed hipster. And because any live act as energetic as that should be rocked the fuck out to. I only risk making an ass of myself for a select few bands, and damn it, they should be one of them because live performances of their caliber demand thrashing. They were never able to elicit any sort of a response from me, and if any band could get a reaction out of me, it only makes sense that it would be them. Damn it, was I that inhibited, that I couldn't find it in me to show some ENTHUSIASM, all the times I've seen them? So I ventured as far north as 40th street (haven't done that in a while) yesterday with my valiant intentions of rocking the fuck out. But then I.... found a diversion.... earlier on in the night and was therefore preoccupied during much of the show. uhhhh.. whoops. next time, though, next time. I will attempt enthusiasm. Yes. (an ambitious feat!)