If only ….
If only I was always inspired to work, I would do so much more. But it is difficult. I have to finish an article today, not even sure where to start. And after that… I still don’t know where to go. Directions seem to always be a blur when freelancing everything and all the tasks on your desk are mundane and maybes.
So I was hating yesterday. Really hating it. Even worse, when I went to go find some food, I got a depressing text. Depression + depression = lethargic crawling depression. Waiting for inspiration to come. I’m not sure how it does or when. How it hits me. What drives me to write like a maniac. Sometimes it just happens. It strikes me and I type long articles in a matter of a few hours. But it rarely happens like that. Many times it has to be forced. Then disliked by my own brain. Deleted. Start again. Get mad about deleting all I had. Get depressed. Wait till inspiration hits.
But waiting sucks.
After dealing with depressing factors, a friend said “Why don’t you go to the show? It might cheer you up!” HAH! I went to the show for support, because it was Monday and I knew no one was going to be there.
First happy surprise. Mamut beer actually had great beer. Which is rare because I just sent an article saying their beer is crap. But they had a Saison IPA that was more than fair. It had nice fruity overtones. It went down smoothly. It is probably one of the best beers that I had in Mamut in a long long time.
The show had Pedrito. A friend I haven’t seen in a long ass time because he was traveling through the US. Then my neighbor as Paraiso Depresivo. Everything was going like I expected. A lot of noise. Almost no one there. Relaxing with a beer.
Then… the invited performer from Chicago. I wish there was a bigger audience for her. Jill Flanagan, aka Forced into Femininity. She was at the show from the beginning while no one was there. Not sure if it was a man with a filled-up bra or actual implants on a true transgender person that simply wasn’t trying her hardest. We thought no one was going to be there. Then at least a few people showed up… It was maybe 9 of us. Not much of an audience.
Jill comes out in a black dress wearing several latex masks and stumbles her way to the computer containing all her noise. ABRASIVE FUCKING NOISE. In a very good way. Jill takes of her masks to reveal smear make-up all over her face. Listen to her noise, here.
Or even better, check out a performance I just found on youtube.
Yep. It was weird and awesome as fuck. She placed her dirty foot on my chest and pushed me on the chair. I mean… she not only did that with me, she fucked with the whole audience in general (all 9 of us!).
It made me forget about my depression. It made me forget about everything. It absorbed me with unique rareness. Sometimes it’s about getting weird as fuck just for the sake to get weird as fuck… but this wasn’t it. There was something more to it. Mostly rage. It somewhat inspired me to re-take music because I’ve been thinking about it so much lately but it is still forgotten.
The rest of Monday night was the classic Bar Nelson until we got kicked out, got some Tortas Cubanas, came home and passed the fuck out. I woke up late today. And I have work to do before Ohh Wow comes over to play Smash Bros and lose every battle against me.
I did not expect this Monday at all.
Tijuana will never stop surprising me with weird shit going on.