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Originally Posted by Damian
Some extra-info that you would like to know...Thurston's passport got stolen last night. weird!
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In a Borgesian alternate universe, Thurston is stranded in Argentina. Lonely, mature, and out of control, he embarks on alternately exploratory and self destructive adventures which he himself percieves in a non-linear timeline:
...Working on a fishingboat in a small village, he is overcome by the vastness of the ocean, sees himself from the fish's point of view. Mist enshrouds the landscape and mind, obscuring the path but making all connections possible...
...Looking through a street stall selling cassettes, he finds several Sonic Youth titles he does not recognise. He purchases them, and a cheap tape player at a discount electronics market. Meets a few fans on the street, accepts their offer to smoke. Forgets the bag of tapes on the sidewalk. Later at the hotel, remembers the tapes, goes back to the corner where he left them. The bag is there, untouched. Returns to hotel, head swimming, falls asleep with tape playing. The songs are unmistakably the work of him and his band, yet he does not recognize them. Waking late, the tape from the night before is hopelessly mangled in the malfunctioning player...
...playing alternately ethereal and dissonant yet traditional folkloric guitar among a celebratory seasonal gathering of gauchos on the pampas, the blood from the lamb's neck, smoke from the fire, the wine warm in it's leather pouch, he is both a stanger and at home among friends. How long has he been here, a gaucho? Thunderclouds aproach, lightning/drums?...
...lost and indifferent, roaming Buenos Aires in the rain, several women appear to be Kim, yet they are not. Then later some of them are, each a different age, yet changed. One of the Kims asks for a cigarette, staring intently at him as if in recognition. He gives her one, they do not speak...
...a thousand burning sunsets experienced at once, both in slow motion and accelerated...
...awakened roughly, drunk in the library face down among pages torn from several irreplaceable volumes of sheet music and poetry, he is detained by the police. He finds he can speak Portugese, but remembers only fragments of his experience. He also remembers fragments of experiences that are not his own. In trying to analyse these memories, they become indistinguishable. Finds folded pages in pocket, reading aloud to cellmates, the bird at the barred window is there and then gone...