My bathroom reading for the past week or so has been Cassette From My Ex which, coincidentally, was also the last new book I bought. I’ve always had a bit of a propensity for making mixtapes (for this entire piece just know I use mixtape as a synonym for playlist even though there are some differences) or lists of any kind and I purchased the book a few months before my trip to Asia. I guess I was feeling nostalgic about the past (when am I not feeling nostalgic?), and a collection of short stories about music, ex-loves, and mixtapes seemed mighty appealing.
A Compulsion For Chaos
So, I’m supposed to start a new weekly editorial series in a couple weeks. I’ll have a platform to write just about whatever I want as long as I can somewhat relate it to film. Or, at least that’s what I’m hoping for, but it remains to be seen if that becomes reality. I have these warped ideas of what I will write about, and it is possible (read: very likely) they will all be denied and I will be forced to resort to writing the same kind of film analysis as the other “film critics” or else be kicked out entirely.