Missed Connections w4m, BLB

I'm about to admit something no sane person should admit. However, it's because of this inexplicable partiality I feel for this writer who has been serial-spamming craigslist with his writing. It hit me like a lightening bolt, tingling through me like electricity. Painful and illogical, but beautiful and precise. I'm not sure if it's sleep deprivation or this total stranger reawakened something within me I've almost forgotten- love, love for words, love for thought, love for the intangible, the ridiculous, the absurd.
Alright, here's my secret: I scroll through "missed connections" sometimes when I'm bored. It's become a habit born out of sheer curiosity and the hope that some guys could be true romantics. This leads right into why I wanted to write this post. There's a guy out there that puts up missed connections on craigslist, but instead of "looking for a blonde wearing a red jacket and black boots," he's writing profoundly insightful, heart wrenching poetry that has left me in a state of shock and awe. For months I have been terrified to write poetry on my blog. For weeks I have been putting off updating in hopes of discovering a topic I can write about freely, and then I find this guy's blog. He's like everything I aspire to be as a writer, fearless and unwavering. He writes in a way devoid of commercial, patronizing rhetoric. Instead he uses words with a biting, uncensored ferociousness. It's like he's fighting, constantly fighting. Fighting himself, fighting the words, fighting format and style, fighting conformity, fighting for his place, his rightful place in a world full of doubt and hopelessness, disrespect and sorrow. He shows no remorse in his words, his thoughts forming violent serenity, if you can call it that. That description makes sense when you read him, maybe it doesn't, but that's what is so appealing about writing, it's (in)comprehension. His writing is so poignant because he doesn't throw his intelligence mockingly in your face, but slips it into lines and phrases with stealth and careful thought. His name is Frankie Leone and he is Williamsburg, Borough of Lost Boys... or more affectionately, the "missed connections writer."

This is my very first post about another writer... It's fitting because of the New Year and all. A lot of firsts have been happening in these last few days, many interesting occurrences. This year really is going to be fantastic, I really can feel it.

I'm out.

I Got Skinned

I have been watching an unhealthy amount of Skins and I believe it's having a strange affect on how I view the world now. Staying up into the wee hours of the morning watching episodes in segments has begun taking a toll on my perception of reality. More and more in social situations everything around me just seems to blur, altering my inhibitions. At certain points of the night it seems like I am in some sort of syndicated TV show, following a well thought out script, interacting with other enthusiastic actors. Then, I don't feel so constricted by societal normalcy and become more comfortable actually doing/saying what I want.
I'm still unsure if this revelation in me is good or bad, but it's something. I've been feeling like that dumb, impressionable teenager that blindly follows trends, but I've also been feeling even more comfortable in my own skin (ba dum ching!). Maybe a dose of some twisted, teenage drama can put things into perspective and help people just relax. I guess what I'm trying to say here is there needs to be a summit where all the leaders of the world are required to watch skins seasons 1-4. It may make the world a better place.

image from collide.com


Oh and I don't even want to discuss the abomination that is going to be airing on MTV soon that is basically the same thing but Americanized (trashier?). Why must we ruin a good thing? This travesty should also be discussed at said summit.


I'm out.