The first way, I look at everything through a veneer of cold logic. The spurts of elation I occasionally feel seem childish to me, like cartoons that you notice aren’t real once you grow up. For example: I don’t let myself feel like a badass when I listen to Lil Wayne on the subway because I know I'm a girl in a dress dragging along a laptop case.
The second way, I let Lil Wayne convince me that I’m taking over the world -- that, in fact, I’m already in the process. This is the way I felt when I stepped off the plane in New Orleans last summer and something glorious gripped my throat.
... and also why I got choked up by Dan Baum from The New Yorker:
A long time ago, David Freedman, the general manager of the listener-supported radio station WWOZ, described New Orleans to me as a kind of resistance-army headquarters. “Everyplace else in America, Clear Channel has commodified our music, McDonald’s has commodified our food, and Disney has commodified our fantasies,” he said. “None of that has taken hold in New Orleans.”
NYC and New Orleans represent my two mindsets. Insane or not, I think it’s time that I let the latter go for my jugular.
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