Over the years I've written about one of my ex-girlfriends on this website several times. Most notably about the time I caught her in bed with another guy, but also how she must be the one who liked this song, or who I drove around with listening to Sufjan Stevens. Apparently she was also supposed to go with me to see Okkervil River, later on after we had become friends, but I used her ticket instead to invite another girl from OKCupid to go with me instead. (And how fateful that was, it lead to a long and terrible relationship.)

It's probably been 15 years since we last spoke, it's hard to say, but two days ago I decided to Google her to see what she was up to, and I found a newspaper article from 2023 about homeless drug addicts living on skid row, trying to navigate the fentanyl crisis, and the header image of the article was a big portrait of her. On skid row. As a meth addict.

I still don't know how to process it. I don't know what to do about it. I don't know if there is anything I could do about it. The article was from three years ago, so, let's be honest... is she even alive anymore?

I feel like I could write 10,000 words about how I feel right now and none of it would bring me any closer to making sense of it.

I hate my need to know, this compulsion I have to know how the story ends. I keep tabs on everyone I've ever known, as best as I am able, even people I haven't spoken to in 20 years or more. When I get bored, late at night, and I have nothing else to do, I start wondering, and then I start googling. It's never led me to anything this upsetting before.

What if she's dead? The article said she had a son, assuming she wasn't lying to the guy who wrote the article. If that wasn't true, and both her parents are dead, and she left in her wake a string of angry ex-boyfriends, is all that exists of her what lies in my distant memories (I remember nothing of the more minor memories linked to in the archives above, aside from the most traumatizing one) and her long derelict DeviantArt profile?

Let's go full narcissist. Imagining that some day her son is googling his mom, Jasmine Paredes, who I knew as Trista Pistolera, and that I could potentially fill the role of Christopher Walken delivering the gold watch, what would I say? What could I say to him, as someone who knew his mom back when she was just a girl?

"Your mom was a cool chick. She was funny and creative. When I knew her, she loved working in the theatre at ELAC, it seemed like that was going to be her future. But... I think she was dealt a really bad hand in life by the people who were supposed to care for her when she was young, and because of that, she didn't stand a chance."

I wish I didn't know. I wish I could rewind time to a couple days ago and stop myself from googling. I don't want to know this! I didn't want to see that photo of her. I was so angry at her for so long and now I just feel bad, I feel so bad for not being nicer to her, not being more understanding and empathetic, for not being a good boyfriend to her, and for not being a good friend to her when we were friends. I know I wasn't really in control of that, the same way I don't think she was in control of the way her life went either, really, but... I just feel so fucking bad.

I just want to talk to her again, it can be the last time I ever think of her if that would make her and the universe happy. Just let me think that she's alright, that she's okay. Just tell me her story has a happy ending, I don't even care if it's true at this point.

Almost ten years ago now I went through a David Bowie phase. It began mostly because of Trent Reznor's involvement with I'm Afraid Of Americans was most pleasing to my twelve year old ears, which were in the process of falling deeply in love with all things Nine Inch Nails. I figured that if Reznor liked Bowie, then I'd like Bowie. Scratchy MP3s of Bowie playing live with NIN further reinforced the notion that I should probably be listening to David Bowie.

I ended up buying a copy of Earthling and even though I didn't understand it---the fact that it was basically Bowie trying to cash in on electronic dance music (fans call it "reinvention", detractors call it "desperation") when I was currently mostly intrigued by industrial music left me wanting, and I thought the non-Reznor mix of I'm Afraid of Americans was pretty much terrible---it still made me want to dive into Bowie.

1\. Outside really did it for me. This was an album that was dark and hard to understand, basically as close as Bowie would ever get to sounding like Nine Inch Nails, which wasn't close at all. Even to my twelve or thirteen year old ears, I could hear that there was something strained about it. Fact is, if you really listen, after 1983 pretty much everything David Bowie does feels kind of strained and labored. (This notion is further reinforced by his public statements that in the 80's he was just a big sell out.)

As a related aside: China Girl is probably one of the most obnoxious songs I have ever heard.

I hardly listen to any Bowie anymore. I think I just grew out of it. I can read a song list and sing parts of every Bowie song imaginable in my head for the most part, but my days of actually sitting down and listening to Bowie albums has passed. David Bowie, Radiohead, Aphex Twin, and Garbage, four artists I listened to in my youth that I no longer have the stomach for. It's kind of sad, really.