I don’t know why we are talking about jazz. Neither of us particularly like it, and I’m not even sure you could name three jazz records. Not that I could, but from the way you’re talking it’s as if you worked in a record store in the backstreets of New Orleans in the 1960s.
Draft a mission statement. Use words like “disruptive” and “innovative” and “relevancy.” Improve the articulation of your idea in Gchat conversations with friends, siblings, ex-coworkers, and anyone who will listen.
Nice people are often assumed to have no opinions. They don’t say anything bad about someone, they won’t talk talk crap, which is like the ultimate sin for a twenty-something to commit. If you can’t get all gossip girl with someone, your value diminishes and you aren’t to be trusted.
I was watching Romeo + Juliet the other night and in between jamming to the Cardigans’ ‘Lovefool’ and mourning young Leonardo DiCaprio, I remembered a ’90s hottie I hadn’t thought about in a while.
I saw something. It was tall. It turned me on, and I quickly began examining features. Shoulders, back, head, arms, legs, clothing, demeanor. In about 5 seconds I had decided I wanted this. Something I wanted to possess. A banal wish for completion through ownership stripped me of my self and quelled the beauty of my being.