| where is my-> |
[19 Feb 2009|11:06pm] |
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have you ever slept so long that the next time you have a full day, the span of events within seem like a week ago? i spent a 'week' at school yesterday, just people watching, baking in the sun and shivering in the breeze. i haven't slept now and my time is being compressed, by result of which i haven't been eating. i am very, very, fucking confused.
-and now the illness. my brain splits and cracks like the desert heated from a muddied state. my lungs squish and my blood boils. my ears pop and my muscles tear. i would go for a walk if i could stand, i would sleep if i had the chance. each day it progresses, and i fear for tomorrow. the common cold my ass.
::the asians were arguing to great heights, and then retracted to tones that wouldn't further threaten the other. their aim was uncertain, but important as they ignored their duties and allowed an old-white-money woman to go wanting. (now i don't blame them, how fucking hard is it to pump gas. it aint the fifties anymore, its self-service bitch. that wasn't even your time, your money just remembers its taste for the slavery.) i watched the asians with mild interest but felt very happy to see that people aren't afraid to talk anymore, to spend time out of their day socializing with fervor.
its the old world way and it takes foreigners to show me that yes in fact, it does exist. people did once enjoy their days, work hard, but pace yourself. where did it go that i have never been offered reasonable benefits, or been able to make rent comfortably? no vacation time, no PTO, call in sick come in tomorrow with a doctors note-to see one would cost 3x what i would have made at work. lets eat what we or our neighbors grew, build together, reap the benefits of our hard work. we don't need to drone along day in day out without being treated as an individual human being, just to make some more money for someone who got where they are by the exploitation of the timid. too many of us just accept it as fact, and im fucking sick of such a shitty work situation.
bottom line is, people prospered generations earlier and set up their family's own bourgeois. and that shit doesn't help me any.
WHERES MY OLD WHITE MONEY!!?!?!?! man im fuckin' sick and i want to go to the goddamn doctor.
fuck!
i cant eat
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[30 May 2008|06:44pm] |
::tearin ass in a mini cooper in downtown portland. cut some dudes off then wait for pedestrians an let em catch up.
::the Hobo's harp was fleeting and the jowls of the yuppie fucks wasting free time with depressants were painful and embarrassing, I watched with supreme interest and the man sputtered on for near ten minutes then into silence yet his muscles continued the motions from memory, he doesnt want to stop but their insults let him know he should the shit he wades in just for the free beer and chicken, but instead he continues on for me in a silent display of his artistic outlet. just for me he did this and allowed me to hear what i wanted to believe was vibrating between us. suddenly he stops and places the harp back in his pocket coughs up a lung, and upon hearing some more shit talk he turns it back to mental hobo status, laughs, raises his beer and says, "yeah, we got this party down." ... that man was everyone i know, but he just took that last wrong turn.
:: set up gone awry. it was on this side then on the other. then the dude "LLCoolJ" reminds me of the south. funny/strange/saw it coming. and the shit out his mouf! "too many to estimate"
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| shot down |
[30 Apr 2008|07:00pm] |
a couple of weeks ago i asked this girl out, and she let me down nicely.
"im actually kinda seeing somebody" she said with an emphatic tone and a one eye squint kinda thing.
but what made me feel shitty (aside from the rejection that i cant handle, no matter how small) is what i meant to say, and how i really said it
::im glad i asked though::
is what i thought to say.
but what came out was
"but its good i asked though" with an implied question mark.
to which she replied after an awkward pause. "yeah...no, it was good."
i turned away, said "poop" to myself, and started chuckling.
I just dont do that kind of thing man, no picking up of the women you meet on the street. it takes a while to get to know me, and actually like me. ive got a track record for giving the worst first through third impressions. this doesnt aid me because the only way i meet attractive women is with the sort of 3 sentence conversation on the street kinda thing with no chance for them to warm up to me. so who knows, maybe ive gotta up my game and lift some weights or something, wear some slick ass clothes and use hair products.
pretty emberassing, pretty funny.
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| 2 year era brings me full circle |
[10 Aug 2007|01:27am] |
so on the fifth Sara and I call it quits. now at the time of course it was sort of a fight based break up, it wasnt brought up that way, it was actually an honest to god feeling based and factual problem, but thus resulted in fight. and of course we were both angry with each other. so im moved back into my moms and life is beyond shitty and then here i am 5 days later and i am alot better now i mean i am still beyond fuckin sad but i finally feel that shit will be ok. not tomorrow or in the near future or anything, but after i met with sara today we had a long conversation, some of it very hard/but also we had some laughs, but after our meeting i believe that we both gained closure (to various degrees on various subjects).
and the fact is this-we love each other so much and we probably always will to some extent, but there are things that just wont let our relationship work. so yes we are sad, yet not mad at each other and will always be there for each other.
life is shit when it doesn't go your way. but mother fucker with the shit this bitch we call life throws at us, the two of us escaped with minimal scars-however deep they go. this is the end of the greatest chapter of my life, and from now on everything will be dimmed. and the motions of life will continue, as always, in a deeper shade of gray. the thought of my life is, when will the gray stop deepening? will it end when i lose all perception of colour, or will i eventually gain the vibrancy back that i lost?
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[01 Jul 2007|09:44pm] |
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my life is falling apart and has been for a while. it wont officially be in shambles for a long long time. but i have noticed the changes and im really afraid.
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| Genius, or misunderstood? |
[19 Jun 2007|05:13pm] |
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mood |
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!?! |
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music |
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foghat |
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i had a long talk with my friend matt last night where he said that i was a genius and how he truly believed it. now as for the back story on matt. matt had to take a genius test once, and most genius' can be stupid at some things and then beyond brilliant in others. now not to call matt stupid in most things or anything, but im just setting up the back and fore ground. because of spatial relations and mathematics matt is far above the norm and was only 3 points shy of passing the test and being given the genius title. so even though he was those three points short that still puts him like a million above the norm.
so here is this guy who is god damn brilliant and he swears by the fact that i am a genius. and when i asked him to elaborate, the description was vague and ended with that i just understand things. and not just certain things (like a specific scientific method or anything) but more like an understanding over all things. that i "just know" and that i always have. now this was an amazing compliment but he just couldnt give me a straight explanation, it was just "indescribable". so here i am having aspects undiscovered by my self brought to light, but they are still too far away to make out what they are, like silhouettes at dusk, you get the general idea of what they are, just not the details.
and then that brings me to start thinking i am really a genius or am i just misunderstood. when i remember damn near the same talk with Russel about a year before. where he was saying all these things about how "i know" and how "i've always known" and when i was asking him what he meant he too said that it was "indescribable".
SO WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!!!?!!!!!?! what do i know!?! i know that i dont know everything. what is it that i am seeing that others are'nt.
I tell sara about the talk i had with matt. and she said yeah i see what he means "i wouldnt call you a genius, but you are so high above most people" so of course im like what the fuck does that mean? and she says "i am book smart and i know what im taught because ive been taught, but you just know about everything in your surroundings" which of course to me made no fuckin sense and she said "like sometimes i'll ask a question about something that i cant understand, and youll know it completely, but you cant understand how i dont get it. you always have this immediate look of confusion on your face. because to you its common knowledge"
i dont even know what to think, but that conversation made me remember those correlating moments. and know i feel confused.
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| this is how we die |
[23 Apr 2007|10:47pm] |
so my friend josh's family gets evicted from his house after the bancruptcy, and this cat helped me move nearly all my shit into my old apartment. so when the deadline of midnight tonight came down the line i decided to recipricate. i mean they have known for at least two days and have lined up another house, so they have to have moved a little.
i go to school through some amazing nonsense and deal with so much shit. more than normal for that day and i end up getting out of class at fuckin 6:45, call josh two steps out of class. heap over there and the shit was heckteck, his house was hardly moved. even though the space difference wasnt that big, it still seemed like moving a mansion into a condo. and none of their shit, no matter how small would weigh at least 60 pounds. and it maxed out at 700 pounds. the average had to be like 175.
but none of that shit matters, this is all back story. but it gets to be 2:30 a.m. of the fastest paced work of my life and it was like 5-6 hours of it. so i get back home and all i want to do is get drunk before i get to bed, this was my only day off and i didnt get to drink. so im about to pass out and sara calls me to see if i can pic her up. so i say yes and head down, there is no traffic at this time for some fuckin reason and everything is silent.
then America-"Horse with no name" comes on and im nearly falling asleap going down seventh wich is a very windy road when you speed. not that i sped that much, but enough. and thats when i realized it, horse with no name would be the perfect song to die to. the song was a like a chronicaling of your life and its troubles, and then it comes all around when he starts singing about how hes reached the ocean, "the ocean is a desert with its life undrground, and the perfect disguise above" and right then its like hey youve gotten to a new part even though its the same, but youve gotta dive in to see through the disguise. then its a whole bunch o' "la laa la la la la la's" and that is the perfect point to let go of the wheel. its all over and the current takes you under.
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| fuck |
[18 Mar 2007|03:21pm] |
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so i get fuckin tore ass, and i end up having to shit on a lawn and in the process i piss all over the back of my pants. i hope no one reads into this part or talks about it, cause it was my friends lawn, and i left evidence. the evidence was the inner foil of my pack of cigarettes, and then when that didnt do the trick i had to use the top of my pack too (no-one else there smokes marlboro's). but as i do this my last cigarette falls out and in the dirt, im nearly laying on my face and trying to pick up the cigarette and i try and put it in my hat, and after that fails i put it in my sweater pocket. i try and walk home but have nearly lost the ability to walk, so i lay down on the sidewalk with my back against this rock wall to sheild me from potential cops driving by and i fall asleep for a while and then i wake up and call sara, she's on her way to my moms house. i then try and smoke my cigarette but the fuckin thing got a split on it somewhere on the road. so im holding the tear in the smoke and i drop it in some of my spit and just to get the smoke going im holdin the tear really fuckin hard and it ends up breakin off. it fuckin sucked. all of this shit fuckin sucked. i am one dirty mother fucker sometimes, but ive found that being dirty makes the problems in life a lot easier.
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| Please heat this eventually |
[07 Mar 2007|05:09pm] |
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music |
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"please heat this eventually"album&little richard |
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So i have recently been reading through "Naked lunch" -burroughs, and i have been doing it very sporadically and slowly. Burroughs writes so much nonsensical shit. the sort that you are scratching your head over for a minute or two. but what makes him amazing is when you go on to read the next paragraph that previous random statement suddenly makes perfect sense. more so in a poetic form, oozing metaphors. and eventually while your reading all of sudden you realize that he isnt making random statements anymore, that it is an actual story within that chapter. and these short stories generally just dissapate and you find yourself back in the metaphors.
now this is not the topic, but it is important. see if you can follow.
The topic of this post is the new Omar A. Rodriguez-Lopez & Damo Suzuki album. this mo-fuckin' album is beyond gooood. I was recently scouring the internet to try and track down any thing that Omar & Cedric (at the drive in, defacto, Mars Volta) had done, on their own or otherwise. and i stumbled upon this album just a couple of weeks after its realease. the album itself is apparently only available on vinyl, but thankfully it was on the Itunes store for some reason. anyway, i have had Omar's more popular solo album-a manual dexterity: soundtrack volume 1- and i got a kick out of it. it is some pretty wild shit. however it was missing alot of the talent i saw him have in the Mars Volta. but when Mars volta is together it has allot of that nonsenseical shit that will go on for quite a while but suddenly go on to some theme that apears to have been created through that chaos. I fucking love them for this, i think that they are brilliant musicians. and that whole nonsenseical deal isnt bad at all, its what they do and i love them for it.
this is the second part.
Damo Suzuki is formerly of the psychodelic rock group CAN (1970's), and is infamous for his lyrics (commonly improvised-and in multiple languages. some of them fictional). his time with CAN didnt last more than 7 or so years. but when he returned to the music world he formed something called "the Damo Suzuki network" where he travels all over the fuckin place and bassically sets up a session with different bands spanning a variety of musical styles. i cant remember any of them other than Broken Social Scene. so now he and Omar's solo project have gotten together (Omars solo project consists of a couple people that he has played with before, and they make up the rest of the musicians on this album.) and produced this two track album-"please heat this eventually" the run time is like a half hour and it is awesome.
alright so remember what i said about Burroughs, yeah well this is why. this album has those random crazy elements that Omar does on his own, but just the presence of Damo automattically brings some like pseudo prog-rock structure to it. so like burrows i have never heard this random music with these particular instruments make so much fucking sense. it has a groove, it goes into themes. and all the while there is so much chaos (not as much in comparison to Omar's other album). but still, this album amazes me. theres a flute and a sax, and some mean fuckin licks on the guitar. the groove is in there keepin the shit tight. and all the while Damo is hollaring jibberish with this synchipated precussion vocals, that seems to go against each individual instrument but some how ties in with the over all groove. just take my word for it man, its fuckin titts.
so if youve got like 2 dollars or whatever it costs to download the tracks, do it. and also Omar has another collabaration due out within a couple of months with his project and John Frusciante, and i a cant wait to see how thats gunna turn out.
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| a new breathe of the old steam |
[04 Mar 2007|05:47pm] |
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mood |
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music |
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tera melos-stevie wonder |
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REMEMBERING*************
i'm just cracking open a new bottle of JD and im franticly trying to find a shot glass in the sea of dirty dishes, when Sara stopps and says.
"Who the fuck are you? when have you ever needed anything but the bottle. god i remember the old you, you would just show up and pound hard liqour right out of the bottle and be some wild guy."-this quote is a give or take on exact words-due to the partnership between my imagination and my memory, making words said into long poetic like movie quotes-but the important parts are still in there.
she then went on to talk about how thats what she always loved about me, even when she hated me. i would just go with the flow of anything and always winding up having a good time. she used the time the new us' met again.
and it was all true, that day i had woken up to the phone ringing with a picture of Dom the EMT in the window. I answer and without so much as a chance to breathe im over at his house jamming to a riff I wrote in Idaho (having only been back a day or so. the flow carried Russel and myself there as well) and before you know it we are headig up Mt. Rose to do some ridiculous extreme sport, that involves tearing ass down a mountain at an average of 35 miles per hour on some suped up bicycle. all the while riding on a path no wider than a quarter of a foot and jumping of fallen trees and boulders an shit. this was not my idea of fun, but Dominic was a "sponsered" rider and so i put my trust in him. as we reach the the bottom of the hill i we had to pedal a good 1,000 ft through several different peoples property (all of whom fucking hated the kids that did this shit on a regular basis, and often threaten them with an ass full of buckshot.) and at one point we had to cross a bridge made of a rickety rotten 2x4's in single file, thus resulting in me falling in a creek. we get to my car and i smoke whatevers left out of 6 or so ciggarette butts in my ash tray.
I was positive that i had broken my fucking coxxyx. and as i drove Dom and myself back to his car near the summit. a man named Dick called, he was screaming about how he is back in town (after a few years of working for a UPS factory in Las Vegas) and that he would be throwing a party. now without even second guessing the situation the next thing I know im walking up the driveway of a single story home in Double Diamond. Greeted by the faces of enemies and long lost friends. Rene Ayala was the first to be seen. (this man left reno on his own when he was 14-15 and had rarely been seen since, and never by me.) and on his arm was my future (one week into the future, directly relative to everclear and the Warriors) Girlfriend. evetually the night brought us to the home of some kid that we didnt know's mother. who was possibly away on bussiness. which she was, so we broke in and had a grand time. i belive there was 15-20 of us, not that many, but the amount of familiar faces was even less.
and so many many more things happened that I dont even have the will to type anymore. but Sara had brought this night up because it was a pretty random and spontaneous evening (day for me). and the hell of it is that it wasn't. this was all fun and not all of my days were, but I have the highest rate of seeing/experiencing bizzare shit out of anyone i know. or at least i used to.
so as im standing there in Sara's kitchen baffled as all hell, still holding the bottle. i tried to describe who I was. I wasnt neccessarily living in the moment, because i didnt feel as if I had lived it until a short while into the future. I was merely functioning in the present, and living it in the future. VERY HARD TO EXPLAIN. i told her that i think i was that way because i didnt have anyhing. and that even now when all of my shit has been moved back into my momdre's house. that just all of the emotional stuff tied into her place kept me grounded to it in a way. it was all hitting me at once. I haven't seen the bizzare in so long. i currently tend to turn down offers to hang out, just so i can SIT ON THAT FUCKING COUCH MAN!! it was all whirling over me the feeling of how i was returned to my body once more. and i couldnt belive it. that just living life a different way effects how you feel. and it felt so much better than i do now.
i sit down next to her and we share a laugh.
i dont need the shotglass anymore. the bottle does just fine.
ACTING**********
the next day I wake up and walk into the living room, Michael is already awake and playing God of War. he asks if I want to go to the art museum with him today. i say sure. i usually would have declined and would spend the day immitating a sloth. but i said it, the first step.
we go out. i see Troy (ex co-worker from Tower) we swap accolades and hugs and a brief synopsis of ourselves over the past month. this was good. i ask him if Kaleb was working here today (another ex-coworker from Tower. currently a security gaurd at the museum-and the sweetest man youll ever know.) he says he didnt see him. Michael and I head upstairs.
we wander, eventually enter the Warhol deal. I ask a security gaurd if Kaleb is working and as he say yes I see Kaleb behind him, smiling and posing at me from behind the glass wall. i let out an AHHH!! and jump foreward a bit, the security gaurd flinches, having thought i was going to strike him. Kaleb enters the room, we swap accolades and discuss the movie pickpocket wich had just recently let me borrow. this was even better.
after wandering a bit more and seeing this kick ass (cant remember her name) peice. she had been featured in Juxtopoz 4 or so times and did a reinvented disney character deal one time and i have always really dug her shit.
we head over to check out that new record store above blue moon on california, niether of us have had a chance yet. we walk down and as my mitt is on the door handle Michael spots Jacob(Sara's Ex-boyfriend, friend, ex-class president) i didnt even see him. i turn, we shake. he gives me a cigrette and asks if i know his good friend--"Anthony!? holy shit man" Anthony (ex-classmate, acquaintence, half-black man) and myself swapped accolades. i ask him about his baby? "its with the mother. custody bullshit" i ask him about the army "they didnt let me in, my heart beats faster than normal people." so what have you been doing/are you gunna do? "save up some money and go where the road takes me. these quotes make the convo seem depressing. but there were several words and laughs in between.
this too was good. we turn and head up to "discology"
the man is short bald and fragile. he asks how we heard of this place. and this is how it went
"a guy i used to work with traded a bunch of dvd's into you"
"did you use to work at Tower" (i did not namedrop)
"yeah"
"who do you know"
"it was Kaleb"
"aww yeah hes great, most of his movies got picked up already"
the store was lame, and the guy was a fucking egypt freak, who showed enthusiasm to the fact that I knew who Dr. Zahi Hawass was (he will be speaking at Tmcc this coming week"
all in all we shook hands, he was nice. another face goes into memory. this was goodish.
after stopping at a head shop run by foreingers (i dont know why i just hate it when a foreigner tries to sell you a meth pipe. and in this particular store i steered clear of em). we arrive back home. i read russels live journal and freak out about the "suicide!?!?!?" content. just then Josh calls me back after the 3 or so hours since i had left him a message.
next thing i know im heading up to his house. i play with his dogs new litter of puppies (10 of em), and then we head out to buy a sac. he takes his corvette and in the car i fill him in on the newest episodes of battlestar galactica, and he fills me in on stargate SG1 (mad nerds for that shit). we arrive at Joe and Crystals, they smoke and we wait for half an hour to go meet the dealers at Que n' Cushion. (these particular dealers are women, nurses in training i believe, and once cooked me spaghetti and made us stay to watch both 12 monkeys (one of my personal favorites) and Saw (not so much). last minute before we head out the location is changed. we arrive and the dealer is different, she says shes gunna get in. she opens the door and screams. aparently she didnt know that josh and i were in the back seat of the suburban. she slams the door. i move over. she opens it again and gets in. we shake hands. the woman is in her early twenties and already an alcoholic. she has the shakes from not being drunk, she is litterally vibrating while she finishes the deal. her leggs are against mine due to the awkward angle she is sitting at. rediculous. she gets back in her car and goes like 40 in the parking lot, ahahha and some asian guy was standing there watching her car and shaking his head.
after a bit of the three of them smoking Josh and i head back up to his parents house. and at the light two fucking wiggers pull up alongside and are just dancing to their shitty rap. just dancing, both of em looking at me, me staring back at them with a ciggarette dangling out of my mouth nearly an inch of ash on it. they were doing it to be assholes is all i can assume. i just stared, never blinking never moving. at one point the wigger in the passenger side opens his door and dances his way out, (litterally danced out. it took him like 20 seconds to step out just cause he had so many moves). then just dances, popping his collar an shit with his chest puffed out at the city, cigarette in his mouth too. just then the driver says WHATS UP MAAAANNNNN!!?? i say nothing, just stare. and the passanger dances back into the car, they continue to dance and the light changes. we both drive away.
neither of us speed, or yell or anything.
i eventually wind back up at Sara's.
i havnt so much as had a single run in, with anyone i knew or otherwise in a fucking week. i got to be me again, the feeling i hadnt had in so long, humming through me. i was able to breathe again, not to say that i was suffocating or anything, but that new life was breathed into the old me.
is this the begging of things to come?
or was this the last taste? of that sweaty steamy life.
--"right on for the darkness"
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| not a poem or anything, just the truth. |
[03 Mar 2007|05:11pm] |
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mood |
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lame |
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music |
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some wierd french hip hop deal? |
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It has been so very long, hundred of millions of years perhaps.
Hard to gage from the time of presidents.
Our sun has died, but we have found a new one.
The thought of tera formation once out of reach
now a necessity.
Colonies created and forgotten.
Cultures formed and assimilated
lost in capacity.
We are animals in titanium cages
swimming in the sea of stars.
there is no other life here
only ourselves and the misery we bring.
We shall swim until we drown.
Everything continues to drift and burn
no one will weep.
no one to change it.
Until the next ooze teems with single cells.
Were we the first?
will we be the last?
With a bit of luck, another species will take to their cages.
Proceeding in waves.
Leaving markers on the graves of entire generations
desperately clinging to life.
All directions ventured.
Everything consumed and abandoned.
They too will have their time
drowning as the reach.
The universe extends forever
we shall never see the shore.
And everything will drift and burn
swimming in the sea of stars.
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| do you know? |
[13 Nov 2006|01:25am] |
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mood |
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grumble |
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music |
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talk radio? |
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is there anybody out there, are there any of you that see
might we all be rambling, are you truly me
this world is so confusing, and every one wears money
there can't be any way out of here, we shall never be free
faded turns our perception
and so turns our hearts
never will we tread again, with sand between our toes
nor in our gray suits grow again, until we've slept with art
natures truth lies with the past, and are always just outside of our windows
yet if we were to shred our shelter we could never lie with them
the past is gone and nature holds its tail
we roam now motherless, birthed prematurely
from the womb of the wild west
our culture is lost to tv
faded turns our perception
and so turns our hearts
to your tomb, run and crawl
to turn from a life scorned
never will you feel again
if you've ever felt at all
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| the routine becomes chaotic |
[17 Oct 2006|08:05pm] |
the second of my classes
critical thinking
philosophy credit or some such shit
I have already stated that I was in a shitty spot in that class, well as of today it is done. I forgot to do one of the 3 papers that are due during this semester. and seeing as how we are halfway through it now and i havent done a single homework assignment, and that this class doesnt have tests.
I am officially fucked
I took only two classes this semester so that I could do better, just a bit ago I quit my job to "do better in school' and now I have failed at the easiest of things. I feel shame and anger. this wouldnt have happened if my friend Rene didnt come to town. I was over at my Lady's house all week with her and during the transitions where i would leave normally, is allways when Rene would show up, either that or Sara would have to wake up early and go to work and I would be stuck there waiting for Rene to get the fuck off of my computer and leave. its not all his fault, its not like I was sitting there thinking about how i need to type my fucking paper or anything. however my mind was to preoccupied with Rene's shit to even begin to think about my own problems. so now I am ashamed of my self and including last semester I have wasted a whole year of school. not to mention thousands of dollars.
FUCK
and now I am going to have to get up and leave my house just so I wont have to explain to my mother how I fucked up so bad. but no more man next semester nothing is getting in my fuckin way, im gunna take a full load and all that shit.
GAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY
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| I have been tagged, booo |
[17 Oct 2006|03:11pm] |
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herein lie six facts. six forced facts mind you. and here they are.
1. My father died when I was 8 and I was left in the hands of my mother, my brother was never there my sister pissed me off, and i have never felt the feeling of home ever since.
2. In High School I fucked my knee up hard in P.E. I was running in soft ball and just twisted my knee. now what needs to be kept in mind is that i have trick knees and this agonizing pain was somewhat common in that time in my life.
MEANWHILE ON THE SOFTBALL FIELD
I break my shit 5 feet from first base and I am forced to do a somersault because landing on my freshly cracked joint in an attempt to slow down didnt seem to apealing. I stand up and my P.E. teacher tells me to walk it off, i tell him "my shits brocken boss". and that bastard told me to walk to the nurses office. this specific field was the furthest place from the building that was still on the campus. and so over one thousand feet up a tower of bleachers and a hill covered in slick turf I strode. and to the nurses office I arrived mangled far worse that before and Man i could have sued those fuckers. (that specific year a boy in another high school in town broke his knee on a sprinkler head playing soccer in P.E. and sued the washoe county school district just to walk home with a bit over a mil.) I go through the doctor proccess and during surgery the doctor realizes all that was wrong with me. this list is as follows
shattered Knee Cap-had to be screwed back together
torn quadracep-had to be stretched back down and stapled back together
bent cartdridge- had to be hammered back in and around just so my shin would stay on my femer.
yeah so nowadays i cant really run and I think I have a fuckin wierd walk.
3. I (like most) have the overwhellming feeling that I am going to accomplish nothing and I have wasted all of my time in life. and I dont know what the fuck im doing and it makes me want to join the marines or something.
4. I wish i could be an artist, but I have no faith in my work, I wish i could be a musician, but I cant write anything original.
5. I cant get enough of good movies, bad movies and everything in between.
6. I FUCKING LOVE SOUL MUSIC.
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| turn your head and cough |
[17 Oct 2006|12:53am] |
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You are remembered for two things in life
creation and destruction
art and presidents
life and lives
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| perhaps this is the call youve been waitin for all this time sir. |
[15 Oct 2006|04:01pm] |
Enter russel, with a mind cacked in the resin of his 3 meals of grass. speaking of the adventures of the past few days and dancing around. I had drawn a couple of drawings yesterday, and of course after a day or so of swaping stories and swearing at full volume we got into the art discussion. and on one of these drawings was "something", russel swore by it. until it all came through. the things he ended up seeing were things and ideas that I had been kicking around for a while tinkering with them and combining them into a larger universal sense. but when i was drawing the picture I wasn't thinking about these things, I would draw one portion and feel done with it and then my lady would tell me to keep going. and all of this made me realize that when we create art our subconcious comes through in the form of style and symbols.
As it ends up this was not all that there was to it. the fraze "Art inspires Art" has never been more apparent to me. during one segment of the drawing while i was drawing it I was listening to Neil Young's "southern man" and this song influenced this particular segment of the drawing in question. but later upon the realization of the subconcious level of art I came back to that particular segment that came about during southerman's romp. because it too had a sort of application to a specific train of thought that i had had, but if this sement was so heavily influenced by the song like i thought it was, wherein does Neil Youngs contribution stop and mine begin, and vice versa. but this is where i have developed my theory. that maybe certain works of art can only reach what they were meant to portray when they have inspired another art. and they are there in, between the lines. such as a song about a book or painting and all possibilities. not to say that my drawing is doing that for Southernman, but just the theory of it is interesting to me.
I suggest you review your own work, and other work that you are passionate about.
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| downfall of the routine |
[12 Oct 2006|03:12pm] |
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mood |
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ugg |
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music |
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none |
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I show up to my god damn biology class a few hours early, after not going for a week. and im thinkin that things are gunna be fine and that if i dont miss anymore classes i can pull through with a D or something. but as i am wandering around waiting for the class to start, I hear a "WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!" I turn around to see this girl that i have the class with, and before i can conjure a response she decides to ream me spouting this and that about how i fucked up until eventually she gets down to the point.
I missed a lab.
labs are mandatory.
this is a new teacher with only one class.
there will most likely be no chance to make up the lab.
Its somewhat fine with me, but still fucked up. the tiny penny pinching gland in the back of my head is letting me know im an asshole for wasting all the money that went to that class. and whats worse is that was the class i was doing alright in, my other one not so much, but at least ive got that biology credit covered. Hah, complete reversal of my routine. I just slunk down into my chair and could only say the word FUCK for a while. then i just crept out of the building lit a cigarrette and got into my car. the whole drive back was plagued with traffic, music i didnt want to listen to and a nagging "gotta shit" sensation.
All ive got to figure out now is what to do with the empty slot in my routine. do I...
A. try to fight to keep the class.
B. proceed as i have and just forget about this small inconvenience.
C. get better CD's or that Ipod attachment in my car.
or
D. use the time to hang out with my fellow Conquistadors.
small matter anyway, life has better ways to kick you around.
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| yes |
[22 Feb 2006|09:21pm] |
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mood |
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 hmm |
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music |
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led zeppelin |
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I now have a live journal and it looks very plain, if only my concert/html mastress were here to cleanse my predicament.
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