Rocky beach in Kentucky
Millenium Park, Chicago
Going to Chinatown
Looks like I need a star tracker
Hello out there! I’m Aaron Apsey. Now that we’ve met, I should tell you that I have no idea what I’m doing in regards to anything. So if you find yourself wondering what the heck this thing is all about, don’t be alarmed, that’s because I have no plan for how we’re going to go forward from here. Some people fake it in order to make it, not me, I just keep faking it. I also suffer from delusions of grandeur and hope one day to operate a fake marketing company called Fatuous. This is (supposed to be) funny because it wouldn’t be a real company, and all marketing agencies are irrelevant.
Drat, I was going to cut it here but I’ve just been informed by my diagnostic machines that this post doesn’t conform to statistically attractive features of other posts on the internet. It should at least be longer, or so they say. I rather think the internet robots living in the sidebar of this WordPress machine don’t know what people like as much as they know what people tend to do when presented with various media. But we’re just going to try to appease them this time, so fortune may smile upon me yet brighter. I am nearly grandma-level suspicious of these proddings, though. And don’t expect to understand how this is related, but like, have you ever caught yourself giving your email address to someone at Best Buy or Sears? A cashier that is. As if being nice to an informant is going to get you somewhere down the line. Maybe just a juice box and a phone call? Nope. They’re going to spam your inbox. You could say, “No thanks, the corporate offices are going to send me junk mail of all varieties.” You could be sweet about it if you did it that way. Or you could say, “No thanks, I prefer to abstain from the type of mind control subscription you just offered me.” No need for tinfoil hats, just don’t sign up and you too can avoid subtle brain washing.
In case you might be starting to think this Aaron Apsey guy is really making sense, you’re wrong. I’m not well adjusted or well informed or anything. I’m not living the life at home, although I do love all of my friends and family for the most part. No, I’m still running away from my problems like a regular person. Facing problems is for boxers and bullfighters and stuff. Like wow that person/bull is going to punch/kill me right in the face if I don’t watch and try to prevent that. What I’m trying to say — and this doesn’t feel real — but it is a real true thing that is going on right now in the world: I am driving around the country with not too many plans outside of writing, reading, snapping pics of mundane dope shit, and playing music. I’m going to do this until I run out of cash.
It’s almost time to go, tonight I’m going to try to play my violin in Nashville. It’s a good thing I picked Nashville, too, because that’s where I am. So I just need to find a stage or a street to do it on.
Alrighty, well surf on back now y’hear? If you see me on the street somewhere just shout at me. I will shout back so that you know I heard you. Finally, a return acknowledgement squawk from you, so that I know you heard me hear you. Keep everything cut and dry like that so we know whats going on and who’s on the level.
[I can tell you for sure, though, Nick Mitchell is on the friggin LEVEL. Nick is my dear friend whose misfortune it is to have spent enough time with me to know what kind of help I need. He created this space for me. Thank you, Nick!]
Check out what else he does @ nckmtchll.com