Tag Archives: 23rd street

Limbo [aka growing up sucks]

You see, Limbo is a synthetic concept. That is, it is man-made.

Though, what concept isn’t man-made?

Not the point, I suppose.

The point? Limbo’s creation (as a word as well as a concept) seems like the product of pure desperation. It seems to have been created by someone that needed so badly to control time.

But, you see, though one may ‘feel in limbo’… in this non-place and non-time where no movement occurs… Time will always truck on… regardless of where one has decided that they are. One may have decided that certain non-action and the consequential non-movement (in the most denial-based naive of cases) places them in limbo.

but the thing is… though, as a psychological construct used to soothe the fear of one’s place in time, limbo works fantastically… this is all it is good for. Limbo cannot exist in other capacities because time and space are always constant in acceleration. And it is as much as what one doesn’t do as much as what one does. Time and space will always win.

You can’t stop it; you can’t control it. And you can’t blame anything on time and/or space. The only thing you can do is make a choice… any fuckin’ choice.

Because by not making a choice, you’ve made your choice. And doing that and ‘choosing’ to be in Limbo is for the coward. Or, more mildly, the timid and fearful.

Yes, now, we sound like Renton from “Trainspotting”. Choose life… or whatever.

This is not that.

No grand political statements here.

I’ve just realized. …this whole thing. This whole:

23rd Street Chronicles: A Year and a Half in Limbo After a Decade Under the Influence“…

…well, it’s been well beyond a year and a half, at this point. And I tell myself that I am still in limbo. Limbo is a word that bounces about my vernacular way too often. And it’s not that I’m not in limbo. And it’s not also that I haven’t changed (drug-wise as well as generally evolutionarily-so)… but I could speed this shit up.

Your author here, is erroneously, trying just a bit to control time.

Stupid bitch.

And I’ve become something that I’ve never been. And reverberating in my head constantly is that quote from that movie, “the saddest thing in life is wasted talent”. And it occurs to me that as more time passes, the more sad it becomes.

Anyway, we are on this sound bite kick, so:

growing up does suck… but as much as one tries to stall, is still unavoidable.

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American Idiot, Universal & the Big Leap

Contrary to appearance, this is not a Green Day and/or American Idiot blog, by any means. The folks at 23rd street merely happen to become a bit specifically obsessive at times. Though, it must be stated that this… blog (in it’s earliest incarnation) did start out as an experiment by a would-be/was writer trying out this blog game after one last hurrah in meth-wine-country. At this time, it was an unfocused voyage into the land that would meet at the intersection of drugs + various art/psychology/culture/hollywood/new york/whatever-avenue and all.

Currently, the folks at 23rd Street have decided to focus with the dexedrine and make this primarily a drug abuse-ish blog. However, aforementioned folks would be remiss if they didn’t mention, again; American Idiot.

I work in ‘the industry’… as cheese-tastic and sell-out-ish as that makes me. So, I know that Universal is in negotiations with Playtone and Michael Mayer is to direct with Dustin Lance Black writing. This can go many different ways. But I am hopeful rather than frightened. And don’t worry, I’m currently on my knees on the floor, picking up all the names that I’ve just dropped.

Billie fuckin’ Joe as St Jimmy kicks ass. As for other casting news, I got nothing. Original cast would be nice… the best choice. I make an exception for Lou Pucci. I love… though, I have reason to believe he cannot sing… either that or he cannot do an Irish brogue. But I digress. Or Ezra Miller. NY talent, bitches!

This has quickly become about nothing that has to do with drugs.

Thank you, drive thru.

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Hello Stranger…

aka new banners n junk

I suppose it is ‘new’ because the folks at 23rd Street never actually had a banner, not so much because its ‘New & Improved’, replacing pre-existing banners. We are fresh up in here.

Feel free to grab and post everywhere!

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Treating Agony With Ecstasy

99 tablets of Ecstasy on the Wall

yummy

I must say, I do this alot these days…

…if by “alot” one means “almost exclusively”.

And by “this”, one means “linking to other articles” without actually instilling any of my own insight and/or opinion thus rendering 23rd street a sort of torrentz of drug blogs (i.e. a meta-search for recreational/illicit/psychological drug-stuff).

It is what it is.

Treating Agony With Ecstasy (discovermagazine.com)

I suppose, with a bunch of physical/vestibular upheaveal, I am having trouble distinguishing what I might feel/think about anything. Though, I can tell you that I feel strongly that “Ecstasy” should be spelled “Ecstacy”.

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Ecstacy & Statistics

I’m not so much into statistics, but the following would probably become awesomely meaningful if viewed while rolling:

Bear in mind, glow sticks & lollipops also become awesomely meaningful when viewed while rolling.

Just another short interlude from the folks at 23rd Street!

Later Skater!

 

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Everything = Speed

I’m completely obsessed with speed. I just realized. Meth and speed.

Case in point… this last post.

I’m wasted drunk. I am confused by Twitter. I try to convey my confusion through my ramblings.

It always comes back to speed… ADHD children and their kiddie crack… meth…

If we scroll down:

Twitter = crack
Trader Joes = meth
Doctors = pills = pharmacopeia = meth

I can only compare anything that I ever observe or process through speed. It just always comes full circle. Ask me a question about anything… my answer will probably veer toward some sort of analogy related to how speed is administered in society or how speed is injected intervenously… I may drift off into Ketamine territory or something once in a while… but for the most part: Speed!

Anything… I can probably connect cats to speed, give me a word that I don’t know the definition of… I’ll probably phonetically connect it to speed.

Contact Solution… speed
The Oscars… speed
Hair clips… speed [I already have one for this… but this is another story]
Ramen Noodles… speed [another one I already have a story for]
A non-working Palm Treo… speed
White Eyeliner… speed
Black Eyeliner… speed

And so on and so forth.

I guess on 23rd Street, everything equals speed.

 

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