A brief flash of insight:

There are, at the core of my personality, maybe two warring impulses, two perhaps incompatible parts. Parts that, if isolated into other individuals, I would find insufferable due to the other part within myself.

There's some kind of sweetness, which I hate to attribute to myself, as it seems so simple, but I mean: I do try to be a good person. And I mostly succeed.

But then there's the fuck-it-all-anyway aspect, the cynicism, that manifests itself in stuff which is, I guess, perhaps innately destructive. Although as I write this now, I guess I doubt that part.

But anyway, warring impulses, same person.

What's weird is that I guess this can be found in children, albeit in a different form. The cynicism isn't there, and the destruction and malevolence comes out of the same innocence that I tend to associate with the whole trying to be a good person.

Maybe it's the self-awareness that leads to the isolation of these parts, but the nature of those human roots that make them impossible to get away from? I don't know, I didn't start writing with a thesis in mind.

But as I started typing this I started to think that maybe it this reason that makes noise pop the best music ever. Or, obviously, the best art is going to have to address both these aspects, but noise pop does it at a basic level of sound, rather than just lyrics? Or it gets back to childhood, by putting the sweetness of melody and the destruction of force right up against each other as something pure.

Contained here is basically the root of an essay I will probably never write about My Bloody Valentine- the sweetness of the melody of romance, combined with this content of sex and lust, reflected in a sound that, in all its powers, has the rhythms of fucking in it, the catharsis of orgasm, and sounds like the inside of the womb, with the sound of male/female harmonies as pure as children. This is a pretentious way of pointing it, but it'd work itself out, I think, as a longer essay.

Meanwhile, in Olympia, the music scene is so fucking backward-looking to this idea of childhood- faking a purity in both ways, and coming off naive or autistic. The eighties twee stuff, obviously, but the new avant-garde noise kids have this whole "bashing something expensive" aesthetic thing there- still so earnest but just... I find both annoying and dishonest and possessing a schtick. Neither side is as complex as actual childhood, and all the more annoying knowing that it's being made by people with all the horrible hang-ups of adulthood.