Thursday, 03/28/02 - 9:37 pm.
I spent almost the whole afternoon on the messenger. And I talked to only two people, him and Jimmy. Long live the Matrix.
My conversations with this Jimmy kid are longer everytime. This time we went from me having a stroke and nuking the world (answering the question: what would you do if you met Steven Tyler) to this weird site, that, to be honest, still don't understand what it's about. All I know -according to him- is that they stole Fred Durst's cap and auctioned it off for charity. Cute. In between, we had Axl Rose and GnR, Rage Against The Machine, the Mtv ICON show, how much people suck for thinking Aerosmith is I Don't Want To Miss A Thing, cool names for bands of ours...
One I'm saving is "Blind Justice". I want to call the first album "self titled". Clever kid. He also told me to download the music of a band from Sweden, named The Hives. I'll download a song called "hate to say I told you so". With a name like that one, I can't pass the opportunity.
Now, sit back and put your straightjacket on....no, wait...that'd be for me.....anyway, I've got big news...
I was having a stroke because...MY BROTHER GOT ME A FUCKIN' AEROSMITH POSTER!!!!!!!!!!! God, it's beautiful!!!!! And as he pointed out, if I ever doubt what I said, I just have to walk in my room and look at it. So true. I look at that poster, and it's like...I don't know. But I'm hoping you'll get the point.
Fuck, you should see it, hanging on the wall, under my window, next to my bed. It's *thiiiiiiis* long *Simeon stretches arms*. It's about 3 feet long. I mean....Gosh, it's just beautiful *tears in both eyes*.
It's my first real poster, can you fuckin' believe that? I should get an award for surviving as an Aerosmith fan in this fuckin' country, where you can just barely find their 90's albums and no one really appreciates their music. I'm talking about the real music, the old shit. Sure, everybody loves I Don't Want To MIss A Thing, but that's not Aero-fuckin'-smith!!!
I walk in my bedroom and I see it there...*grins*...then I walk out. And I walk back in and it's still there. I walk out. And I walk in again, and it's mine. IT'S FUCKIN' MINE, for Christ's sake. Dude, it's mine *Simeon takes out the kleenex*.
This is it. This is the image. And believe me, it's much better when it's on your wall, and it's way bigger. So big you can see every wrinkle on Steven's hand (so romantic) and has the band logo. Hey, wait...on this pic Joey Kramer is on the right. On my poster he's on the left. But who fuckin' cares? He's Joey "Kramedog" Kramer, he wrote Pandora's Box (please, allow me to reccomend you that song)...HE'S ON MY FUCKIN' WALL!!!!
So far it's: 17 1/2 hours on tape, one folder full of newspaper articles and pics, one folder full of images and some lyrics (off the internet), the whole "official" discography and a few extra cassettes and CDs, three books (including their autobiography), three magazines, three little posters (one off the newspaper, one off one of my books and one off a magazine) and my new amusing poster. I know it's a very little collection. But it's mine *tear in Simeon's eyes*. Imagine, just imagine all the stuff I could get if I lived in the USA...from trading bootlegs to having their autographs tattoed on my forearm. I know people who've been a fan for 28 years, how much stuff could you get on such circumstances? Aerosmith fans own racks packed with Aerosmith videos, they have sites to list their video collection and to trade...not to mention all the magazines and all the stuff they get off E-bay, the special editions of everything, the aerofests....
I've got a 3 feet poster. So, there.
*runs to the room, turns on the light and stares at the poster, sighing...*...*Simeon watches the breath-taking, enchanting scene that tenders his adorable heart*.
Ok, let's change subject.
Last night I talked to Art on the MSN messenger. The motherfucker was smoking. Son of a bitch. But I know he wouldn't listen to me if I told him to quit smoking, so I just told him to measure himself. S'allrra, he said. Um, in common language, that's it's alright. The gang seem to have their own dialect, you see. But since now I get along very well with them, I understand. Anyway, he was going to sleep at somebody's house with other people, because they were going to go on a trip today, and they'd take off very early. Melvin is here, he said, he wants to talk to you, as soon as he's off the phone. We just said hi. I was talking to one of my many girlfriends, Melvin said.
I couldn't help thinking of him until I fell asleep. It's because of everything I've been through with him...he's probably the only guy my parents approve of...well, not "approve of"...but they say hi to him, and that's a big step. Then...I once got (I remember it was one saturday afternoon) an e-mail from his account, and it basically said that he loved me...on monday I asked him about "certain" e-mail, but it turned out to be his cousin who wrote it, just fooling around (he doesn't even know me). Rene told me he'd mentioned that he liked me. We've been in the most intimate places...we've laid on the grass of my yard, me resting my head on his *ahem* well-worked-out six-pack, we've been in the complete darkness of 6:30 at school, on his aunt's car...I mean, sometimes I feel we're like Joey and Rachel, only he's not in love with me, I'm not pregnant and we're not in touch that often. Waait...you are his girlfriend, aren't you?, his little cousin asked me once. No, I'm not, I replied to her. He does need someone *like* me though, I said to myself.
I don't think it's real love, I don't think I love him like I've loved *clears throat* other...it's just that I think of him in a very special way. Maybe it's a crush, it's a potential love, but I know it can't be. We're not...I mean, we're very different. Cel told me once he's not the kind of guy who'd make a commitment, let alone with someone like me. He just flirts and makes out with younger girls.
But...screw the world...I HAVE A FUCKIN' AEROSMITH POSTER!!!!!!!! And it's mine. And I'm going to stare at it, right now.
If it looks good, you'll see it.
If it sounds good, you'll hear it.
If it's marketed right, you'll buy it.
But, if it's real, you'll FEEL IT.