david lynch is my lifeline.

the other nite when i was at chirp getting ready for my marathon friday shift last week, the dude before me was rocking some surfer blood, track 'twin peaks.' i have the surfer blood album and was always kinda on the 'eh, they're pretty decent but nothing mindblowing' sorta fence with these hyped dudes, but for obvious reasons, was always much more apt to play this particular number vs any other. (completely 150% based on title track alone). and while i didn't rock any surfer blood myself that set, i did drift toward's beach house's 'silver soul,' in which the enchanting miss victoria legrand ghostly croons, 'it's happening again, oh-oh-ohh, it is happening aga-ah-eh-ah-eh-a-ennnnnnn,' taking me back to my most beloved gentle giant in the black lodge.

it was a sign. a sign that as each chapter evolves in my life, i need to turn to my homeboy david lynch. he first was my depressing solace from a pretty major break-up. then, he was my first professional job distraction pride and joy distraction. then, suddenly twin peaks turned into the soundtrack/back-up of my 'imboredandneedsomethingtotalkabout' existence.

but no matter what, i can't tire. no memories of tp cohorts or situations can spoil my love for special agent cooper or his lameass witicisms. i will never forget my head scratching flabbergast of the moment josie turned into a drawer doorknob. or the fucking jaw dropping amazement of the show finale as coop turns to the dark side of bob and all that is evil of the black lodge. i can shrug off the ridiculousness of nadine and her roided out sick excuse of a plot twist high school love affair. even norma's dumb husband and leo coke trafficing whateverness. but leland palmer's geek out? the man from another place's ritual boogy moves? that creepy fucking dumb opening sequence number of synthed out chimework? omg, i need you back in my life pleez.

if only to visit me. i found this on my own. i loved this on my own. i pushed it onto others, and regardless of their love/disdain, twin peaks still belongs to me. and mr. lynch, i see absolutely zero reason why a happy girl can't get sucked back into your finicky fables.

josie, i'm sorry you got twisted into wood homegirl, but my ladylove margaret is calling me back. time for some fucking tar gum, bitches.