Is it just me, or did the girl from twilight get some tits?

So i saw that Abbey posted something on facebook that actually seemed interesting to me, and instead of posting it on pointless facebook i'll put it up here. It's a really simple thing too, just name the 15 books that you've read so far that you think will stick with you. I'm doing this in a countdown of significance, because i honestly feel like counting up takes away the excitement of it all. Each selection might also include a reason as to why it made the list, but it depends on how i feel. This is extremely hard because i love so many books, but i will do my best.

15. It's technically a series, but the first books i actually remember choosing to read are the "Goosebumps" series books.
14. "Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy" (the complete works) by Douglas Adams is indefinitely hilarious to me, and i can see myself finding something new to like about it each time that i crack it open.
13. "Everything's Eventual" by Stephen King. I first heard this as a book on tape, and Stephen King books (along with "Goosebumps) are actually what i learned to read on. I've only recently gained the paper version of this collection of short stories, and i quickly learned that while i managed to get the gist of the main story lines in that colletion, i missed several existential questions that King raises in those works. This book (though you might as well just include the entire existing works of King), and the "Goosebumps" series make this list due to the fact that these are the first books that i read, and they most definitely influenced my literary preferences for the rest of my life.
12. "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac is a book that often catches flak due to it's fan base. i actually stole this book from an airport because i first heard of Kerouac's in an essay written by Death Cab for Cutie's lead singer. I then read it on the plane as it travelled across the country. While he is heralded as the key voice of the "beat" generation, and this generation is famous mainly because of their free loving, drug using ways, i see him as someone who poignantly writes about human emotion in situations where life seems both infinite and irrelevant. Many American Lit classes ignore his contributions, when actually they are crucial to understanding the evolution of American Liturature into the point it is at today.
11. "The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger. One of the most famous, and disputed, books of U.S. lit. Many write it off as a chronical of mere teenage angst, however, i see the main character's emotions as being something systemic of the economic and social conditions that existed, and still exist today, in American society.
10. "The Way of All Flesh" by Samuel Butler. It's an older book where the language was slightly more lengthy and odd, but if one can navigate that it's easy to see Butler's genius. This story is one that progresses from rags to riches, but contains far deeper characters (some that i want to know more about) than most books, and overall is a warming story that makes one feel fullfilled.
9. "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald is an extremely personal book for me that i try to make a point to read at least once a year. It started an odd fascination with discovering books where the narrator despises the character that ignites the story's events.
8. "Acid House" by Irvine Welsh. This is actually the most recent book that i've read, but i can already tell that it will be significant. The stories in this book progress in a way that speaks to the subconcious mind, and overall Welsh is brutally honest about life, god, women, drugs, and life again. One of the stories in it is actually influencing the format of something that i'm writing now.
7. "Tales of Ordinary Madness" by Charles Bukowski. This was the first Buk book i remember seeing, and it's actually rather ironic that it's the only one that i own. The tales in this book range from extremely hilarious to morbidly depressing. Buk manages to cover such a range of emotions in his time bubble that anyone who is not a-historical will appreciate.
6. "Men Without Women" by Ernest Hemmingway. Several short stories by old Ernie, who at times can be a very dry writer, but if you look past the dry dust you can find the rich topsoil underneath. All of these stories have different scenarios and different themes, but they share one common bond that ties them all together: the men in these stories lack women in their lives. Ernie examines this aspect of human life, along with several others, in beautifully woven stories.
5. "Scar Tissue" by Anthony Keidis. The lead singer of one of my favorite bands writes a heart wrenching biography about his own addiction and life experiences. What's not to love?
4."East of Eden" by John Steinbeck. The multiple view points and interpretations of biblical parallels presented in this book demonstrate Steinbeck's storytelling capability. His characters have immense depth, and his social commentary of the time period is refreshing and often overlooked.
3. "Death of a Salesman" by Arthur Miller. I was actually deeply insulted when my sister told me that she thought this book was dry and boring. I think it is one of the most intellectually stimulating works (it's actually a playscript, but i consider it a book) i've read, and i recently discovered that the movie "Step Brothers" staring Will Ferrell is basically the comedy version of "Salesman."
2. "Dream Tigers" by Jorge Luis Borges. This book of prose and poetry speaks to me in ways that few things have. It is one of the most influencial works i have read.
1. "Lisey's Story" by Stephen King. This book is so significant to me for so many personal reasons. Leaving it at that.

Books that didn't make the list for various reasons:
"Hearts in Atlantis" and "Duma Key" by Stephen King. I already had enough King selections for the point to get across.
"The Old Man and the Sea" by Ernest Hemmingway didn't make it because, while it is one of the most beautiful things i've ever read, it doesn't cover the breadth and complexity of "Men Without Women"
"The Grapes of Wrath" and "Mice and Men" by Steinbeck. These books are quite simply amazing, but they don't cover the depth of questions, and ineffable writing style that Steinbeck used.
"Running With Scissors" by Augusten Burroughs did not make the list because it is my sister's book. While i did love it so much that i finished it in one sitting, i feel that it is something that has influenced Paige far more than me.
"The Sun Also Rises" failed to make the list because it still sits oddly with me. I love the interactions with the characters, but it is obesely boring.
And the Various works of H.P. Lovecraft. These did not make the list because there is not a single story of H.P.'s that i can point to as an influence; instead they all have influenced me.
There are more that make this list, but i'm tired of trying to put my literary affections in an order.

One of the questions

For the essay that would have been due today in my class had to do with the inspiration of Locke in Marx's writings. While it's not something that i know about too extensively, i do know that one of the primary things that Marx and Locke both had was the idea that one person can change the world.
They both seem to fail to point out (Locke more than Marx), however, that those types people are very rare, and there are a ton of other people that do not have the capabilities to do so. Out of that, i have this to say.

While some people may have the capabilities to change the entire face of the world, most of us only have the capabilities to change the entire world of those around us. I think that the latter of the two scenarios is one that we should all aspire to a little bit more.

Album Review of "Dragging Horse Bones" by Rusty Hacksaw Project.

A friend of mine just put this album out recently, and i told him i would give it a track by track review. here is that massive document. for those of you interested in downloading this album go to http://charliejackjosephkruger.wordpress.com/ and follow the directions. after that you can dispute with me about how you like it. anyway... i think i have to go... it sounds like the zombie invasion just started...


Track One, “Dragging Horse Bones”:
The album starts quite suddenly leaving the listener in a moment of disorientation where they are forced to try and reconcile themselves with the off timing of the measures, and rather twilight zone-esque high end. The track then morphs into what seems to be an explosion just shortly after the listener finally gains some sort of orientation. Out of this explosion of low fuzz comes a very tedious bass line that sounds as though it was done on multiple upright basses that are slightly out of tune with each other, and with drum beats in the background that sound close to sticks being broken. Overall the track is very tedious sounding, and it seems to put me on edge. Often it will wind down to a point of relief, or expand into some distorted explosion, only to pick back up with the same meticulous energy as before. Oddly enough, seems to fit the idea of being at the bottom of a hill and seeing another one, and that final track’s nod of the head to the title of the first track makes this album have a cyclical aspect. The track ends with a cacophony of distortion that blends into a more distinct and harmonious sound in the second track.

Track Two, “Rats in the Roots”:
The second track takes from the distorted end of the first track, but then turns into a rather somber techno beat; the listener gets sucked into believing for a second that there may actually be some sort of musical relief in this album, before a distorted guitar that plays a different timing than the techno beat snaps them out of their comfort zone once again. Charlie’s voice comes in very syncopated and distorted itself (I’m sensing a pattern here) which makes it sound as though the vocals are being piped through a blown, public speaker in the filthy street of a communist country. This characteristic gives his voice the quality of being something that you inherently don’t like and wish to shut out, but it also comforts you in the most strange way as though he were an actual political leader pointing out the fallacies of your own life through the example of his. Every now and then all of the music stops for less than a second before coming back in more distorted, and I think equalized lower. This track is a further disorientation piece just as the first one, and the echo at the end of Charlie’s vocal line continues to add to the feel that the voice speaking to you is coming from a loop recorded by a high ranking official. “Rats” becomes calmer for a brief moment at the end before fuzzing out much like the opening track. But instead of fading into the next song the listener is left with a haunting final word from the vocal track.

Track Three, “Teal Booth Friendship”:
This track starts off with a drum line that sounds much like the broken sticks in the first track, followed by a rather low, and slightly jazzy bass line (once again sounding akin to an upright played with a bow). While not in perfect harmony to a conventional meter, the bass and drum combo works, and vaguely reminds me of something that I’ve heard before; the listener very quickly is touched with a tone of familiarity. Sirens come in shortly to be followed with Charlie’s off beat but catchy vocals. At points in the song his spoken words become almost lulling, as the music turns down and fades into the background. This lull soon turns to head bobbing, and if you listen close you can hear what sounds to be (though it is most likely just residual feedback, whether intentional or not is to be debated) crystal glasses full of water with their rims being circled by delicate hands. This track drives, though not in the same way that the opening track does. It also allows the listener to find a point of contentment along the odd timing… Well, excluding the sirens cutting in that is. Around the three minute mark the song reaches what seems to be a point of frustration as various numbers of bass beats alternate between random siren screeches. This once again pulls the listener out of their comfort zone, but quickly allows them to fall back in. The ending once again becomes frustrated, and then seems to release in a quick, distorted burst, which abruptly is cut out when the next track begins.

Track Four, “Hide”:
“Hide” starts off with a very beautiful keyboard line that sounds close to a symphony, but after a few seconds of listening you can sense that the beauty is only a façade. Are those pick scratches in the background, or can you allow yourself to hear them as the sounds and screams of a person being tortured? A powerful drum beat kicks in after the beauty, and what sounds to be a distorted guitar plays a simple, yet emotionally charged lick. After a bit the guitar does seem to fall behind the rapid succession of snare hits however. This track also feels much quieter than the previous three before it, and the punkish feel seems to carry on a little too long before there is any musical change. When the lyrics do come in it is clear that the all powerful dictator vibe is pulled back into the arena, as Charlie (sounding at first more like an irate Nazi) informs you there is no escaping; you are in his mental realm now. While this track feels slightly lopsided, it does end and blend well into “The Way I Pray”.

Track Five, “The Way I Pray”:
The background music on this song sounds like something that might come out of an old broken Nintendo cartridge. It soon fades, and the simple bass line synchs up nicely with the descending drum line. The bass line begins sliding in a way that’s off putting at first, but one finds themselves being accustomed to it shortly, and even finding that it does actually match the drums. Vocally the singer sounds like someone obsessed with a sadistic mantra, and in some ways I think he is. Lyrically the song is a stab to everyone who thinks that all thoughts should be pure, and that there are set ways to going about any form of religion. “The Way I Pray” is one of the most straightforward tracks as far as timing goes: 4/4 and everything seems to lock in--if the chorus is overlooked. It ends with some very low end distortion, that is strangely blissful, at least until the mantra of “CLEAN” and glitching SNES game come back into play. Though, I wonder if it was the artist’s intent to get the listener thinking about old school video games right before the sixth track begins?

Track Six, “Child of the 90s”:
The beginning of “Child” instantly reminds me of cops episodes. The sound inserts are hilarious and tongue in cheek to me, and I’m curious as to why Charlie didn’t put in some more ridiculous Chris Hanson quotes. Then again, I can see how airing on the side of humor might distract from the reality of the issue addressed in this song--which is (from what I have been told) that creativity and music should not be accused for inciting violence in kids, but perhaps we should all take a closer look at those who collect our taxes every spring and see if they’re not doing anything that could cause systemic violence in adolescents. A fuzzy guitar line emerges from the sounds emitted by the ‘talking heads,’ and it definitely feels like something that would come out of the 90’s. The vicissitudes that befall the equalization of this track make it enjoyable to listen to for a while, even though nothing truly changes musically. For some reason, Charlie’s voice sounds more like that of a priest on this track, as he lists of some of the various terrorist attacks and tragedies that have befallen that era of U.S., and world history. Easily enjoyable, yet it still manages to carry with it a serious tone.

Track Seven, “Intermission”:
While humor may or may not have been the artist’s intent, I definitely found myself laughing while this track played. Something about the intrusiveness of that breaking glass sound cracked me up, and it provided a nice break from the actual music of the album. It disrupts the zone the listener may have gotten into while listening to “Child”, but it’s not an unwelcome disruption by any means. It also blends nicely with “Child”, as it gives the impression as though someone with modern day boredom is channel surfing. This is a weird enough perspective with the album, because for once you actually feel like you are in someone else’s mind, and not just being shown facets of that person. Overall I think this may be the most underrated track of the album.

Track Eight, “Moments”:
“Moments” begins with a huge dose of a melancholy low end riff, rife with distortion humming over the top. From there it melds into something truly beautiful, and I am in wonder at what some of those sounds are in it. Charlie’s voice comes in strong, and is almost surprising when it shows up. The emotion in his voice is in no way masked by the distortion he filters himself through, and while the lyrics may not be the most emotionally complex, there still rings something very true and human like within them. You no longer care how simple the lyrics may be because that is what this song needs: simplicity. It is the most beautiful song on the album, and it ends in a way that is neither abrupt nor drawn out.

Track Nine, “Bottom of the Hill”:
The final track has the nicest drum line out of all of the other tracks on this album. The combination of drum, sliding bass, and stupidly distorted guitar work extremely well at getting one’s head bobbing. It’s a jam that one could listen to for an extremely long time, which is a great thing considering this track is the longest, clocking in at 16¼ minutes. The changes in the riffs are well spaced and simple enough to not draw away from the vibe that is built with this track. This track is hands down the most Jammy (fuck off Microsoft for not having that be a word) track on this album. Vocally empty until almost 14 minutes in, the track sets up a good vibe before pulling the mic out of the closet. The lyrics seem to pose a question (to who is a mystery) if the singer has changed any now that he’s “Dragging Horse Bones.” I take this to be more of a sarcastic question than an existential one, though that could be personal interpretation as the album points to making a lot of personal progress with the artist. The ending leaves me with a rather haunted feeling, and actually caused me to shiver a bit.

Overall Review:
With all of the moments that catch the listener off guard and sets them in a state of musical disequilibrium I would not recommend trying to study or read while this album is on rotation. However, if you feel as though you have an emotion you want to try and get from another perspective this album may be just the thing. It progresses through many different forms in the hour it spins. The timed, spoken vocals may either prohibit or expand upon the emotionality of this album depending on what your standpoint is on the whole “spoken words” debate. Regardless of your position on them, it is clear that they work well with the music presented by this album. I only have to qualms with the album, and those are with the lopsided and stagnant feel of “Hide”, and perhaps the seemingly frustrated ending of “Teal Booth”. I say perhaps because I do like the way the track ends overall, and it may simply be a mood thing that is making me not appreciate the dialogue between the bass and the sirens. I definitely did enjoy the overall equalization of this album (being a bass player myself I can’t help it if I like the low end), and while this equalization may have formed out of a necessity to keep feedback and white noise down, it makes the album feel that much deeper. “Dragging Horse Bones” progresses very clearly from more odd metered, tedious feeling music, into songs that seem to touch the listener somewhere, even if they aren’t quite sure where. This ‘touched’ feeling can be close to both rape or the embrace of someone close to you depending on what track you have playing. Sometimes the two feelings even merge into one. While I’m still not sure where I would put this album on a scale of one to ten (I blame my latest case of musical apathy for that), I enjoy it thoroughly, and will be pleased when a track from it shows up in my random rotation.

We have to get on the same page here.

i mean this in several ways here.
Firstly, the writing center schedule needs to shape up dammit!!!
Secondly, a friend of mine needs to get out of her own way. I don't often think she's being pathetic (though she often does), but what she's doing now is one of the most pathetic things i have ever seen her do and it infuriates me to witness it. The only thing i have to say to you (if you're reading this) is from "Headlock":

You say too late to start, got your heart in a headlock,

I don't believe any of it.

You say too late to start, with your heart in a headlock,

You know you're better than this.

and lastly it has to deal with Charlie.
I would absolutely love to send you that story i just finished, but i don't actually have a valid email address (other than the hacksaw one and i did send an email to that again as well simply telling you what is stated above) to send it to, and so we should figure out some system we can use for literary dialogue between us. Also, Wednesday might not be the best day to work on musical things unless you're clear after 7. otherwise thursday or the weekend will have to be our best bets, as far as my end is concerned. Just get back to me with these things and we'll work them out.

anyway. i now have another 5 1/2 chapters to read, and a paper to write for tomorrow. fuckin great.

Completed

I finally finished the story. All in all i got about an hour a page (8 pages, 8 hours) which does seem rather slow... but it's the rate that i've always wrote things seeing that i'm not a fast typer, and i don't like to progress to the next thought until the previous one is complete, and most of the time my phrases are picked rather selectively; the right words coming in at the right time. All in all the time it took to write is a meaningless matter, what is more important is whether the final outcome is good enough, and for this i do believe that it is. I showed it to alex, who seemed to really like it (all side laughter accounted for), and she told me that she really likes the way i tell stories which i consider to be a great compliment and am really proud that she liked it.
With that being said i think i have effectively closed those moments with a firm and decisive period at the end of their phrase.
It is now time to read more, though not class work,
sleep,
and let memories continue to fall through the seive of my mind.

Post #421

I suppose there's probably a better title for this than that, but in some ways i think the number is significant in itself just by the fact that it is a large number, and i have more than one of these.

So i guess if i could title this post something more related to the topic i'm going to (almost) write about i would name it The Perfect Constructed Dream. but seeing as to how thats the name of what i'm writing about but not posting here, (we'll get to that) it would be a lost meaning.

So yes, there is a theme of a dream here (funny shit, Huh Ang. we were both having dreams last night) and i can't even begin to describe that with any words... well, i am attempting. I'm writing a story about last night (i guess you could call it a story...) but i'm not putting that up here because... well, it doesn't seem right. i'm going to show it to a few people, and maybe one day it might get published with all of the other work that i'm doing if i'm lucky, but other than that i don't think i will really show it around, because that's not the nature of what happened last night... the nature of what happened last night is so outside of what life is that it can't even be thrown in here with other accounts from my life...
but as far as describing it goes....

I had my "House" moment.

A moderate form of Jealousy

finished Wuthering Height's today, (last night really, at about 2 in the morning, then i realized how much of a fucking retard i was for staying up until i could scarcely see straight) and i absolutely loved the ending... It has a weird concept for the the characters in how they are related to the reader though... at the start you are only supposed to like two of the characters: the main narrators, as they are not surly, unwelcoming, and untrusting people. Yet by the end of it you want to approve the actions of almost all of them, and one of the two narrators i came to absolutely despise because he seems like a whiney bitch. but i think that's one of the most interesting things about this book... the characters that you think you will end up liking, or more really, pitiying in this book, end up being terrible people... i'm trying to be vague on purpose, because i really do think that the book should be read by all of the people who read this, and i don't want to ruin anything for someone who eventually does.

although... i'm still not sure what to think of Heathcliff's resolve, for i'm not convinced it's a resolution... i mean, i feel that the author wishes me to change my opinion of him, but i'm not convinced on the grounds for which this change of view should take place... Furthermore, what happens in the ending leaves his position quite up in the air, and it doesn't help that the narrator remains skeptical at the accounts in the ending... i guess it really comes down to the intentions of the characters, but that also is a wall when one debates their intentions morally.
either way, this book is a great book where you aren't supposed to like the main characters...

(fuck this is gonna be a long one, which is not what i need right now)

and while on the subject of books, i now know for sure (it was really the completion of wuthering heights that made this decision concrete) that i need to change the disposition of my protagonist in the novel i'm working on... i started off making him (the past him) hard to get at by the way of a stoney disposition, but i think i need to make the character more open and agreeable in the past... (if none of this makes sense it's because i'm ballz ass tired) the change into his present character might seem less of a stretch when i set him up different, and it will make understanding him as a whole far easier...

and since we're talking of stuff that i'm working on, might as well touch base with the stuff that i'm not working on: music.
i'm really rather built up with the desire to play something--and actually put it to track--but i'm really lacking the means and the time. moreover i've taken a bit of a break this summer, and even though i've practiced every now and then, i know i'm a bit rusty; my fingers seem slightly more retarded than usual. it could also just be my acoustic though. i've come to find that it's a difficult instrument to play: the strings are more like cables, the spacing between them seems awkward, and the action isn't quite low enough to be able to just speed along it.

(but on the subject of that bass, i had a dream last night where sean broke a hole through the side of it and i cursed him out about it... possible interpretation could be that even though i was quite content that he was here, his prescence made me delay working on things for my class, and as a result i have quite a frantic day ahead of me.)

however, i still have quite an urge to play, and i really would love to work on things with charlie (which, i think, is half the reason why i'm posting this here so that he will see it, sense my desperation, and come swooping out of the blue so that we will sail away on a rainbow cloud of dissonant noise... haha too fucking funny to resist trying a semi-gay reference. no worries charles!) even if it's some menial task such as singing background vocals (though in honesty i'd want to try a ballsy two-vocals song with him, where we each write lyrics that coincide with one anothers lines... i'm eager to sing again really, but even just having a thunderous bass line would be a definite bone thown my way... speaking candidly, i'd really like for the two of us to get together and talk about the various options we would have so we can pick the best of them) i would really love to be working on something that i know would actually get laid to track, and that i would be proud to have under my belt.

anyway... i think it's fucking shower time... and then i have about a million other things to do... and i still have yet to eat...
this day is going to rape me.

These things (they are) seem to be so odd.

It's strange... but at the same time it's not because this is what i've come to expect, and what i'm actually remarking is strange is that i don't think anyone else would view what is occuring as a mundane aspect of their lives...
...i don't know why people say things...
of course, i'm sure that doesn't make any sense to someone who probably just stumbled on to this, but it's what i was thinking.

Anyway... Sean should be leaving for here soon, and i think i wanted to get started on a short story i've had brewing in my head for quite some time... I'll probably post it when i get it done, and i'll be glad to have gotten it out of the way, but i still need to work on the fucking dialogue sequence in my book about Wendy Bird...
Haha... she would kick me right there.

Oh man... this is gonna be an awful day...
But not awful as in 'my house just burned down'
awful as in like
"there we go again: we're out of our medicine, out of our minds and we want in yours, let us in".
hahahahaahahahaha...
nevermind.

Fruity Pebble dust gets sticky with sweat...

Just finished mowing down the last of my Fruity Pebbles; no milk because i figure i'm probably going to need that for my pasta-roni that will be happening tonight.
But on the subject of food, i just bought bread and butter (the bread would have cost over 3 dollars at the corner store; FUCK A BUNCH A THAT SHIT!!!!) from grocery outlet (you know you're a college student when...), which is cool because those are the things that can really stretch a meal and make you a lil fuller than usual. The reason this is important is because i guess i've decided that i would love to play another quarter's worth of the "So when exactly is my financial aid check going to get here?" game, and it turn's out the answer to that is in three weeks... Looks like i lose. again. But it's cool cuz no one really needs books for class at this damn school anyway (though i will be doing my class reading in the book store, and if they don't like it they can eat a bag of baby dicks), though food is another question. I do have $40 dollars (whenever the effing bank decides i can spend it... faggots) which should stretch me out for those three weeks. I'm also really hoping i get the job at the writing center that i applied for, and if that happens i might actually be able to buy some of the books for my class before i have to write my self eval.
Anyway... I really want to get some sort of music going. I feel too blown out from class to actually write, but i would still be up for either singing or playing bass. Well... As soon as i get rid of this phlegm-y (doesn't look right at all...) cough i have i could probably sing. Otherwise i might hawk a huge lugey (also think there's a spelling discrepency...) on some bitch in the front row...
But i digress, so i feel like i should head out.
Hopefully the internet is working well enough that i can see some of the worthless shit my friends posted on facebook.

Oh No!!!!

Prehistoric sharks have been released off the coast of Malibu!!!!
Run, beautiful girls in bikinis!!! Run very slowly!!!!!

Haha, fucking Sci-Fi.

Oh Mr. Frusciante...

After all of his career... and just knowing the real bare bones of that... your rise from leaving the peppers in the 90's and rejoining to make Californication, By the Way, and the creative masterpiece Stadium... And then listening to your solo stuff... How raw it starts out as, but then it begins to build, and finally i find myself here, listening to your recent album The Empyrean... How apt that you have a track titled God on it, because i think you finally managed to find god... You're stupidly beautiful.

Musically

Gah, damn new albums and not enough money.
Got the book list for my class and have to have 4 chapters read in one of them before class even starts; it sounds like this class might try to kick my ass, and i'm glad for that. But because i had to buy that damn book (which the subtitle to it is the rise and disaster of capitalism, but seeing as to how capitalism made it possible to print that book, and is in reality far from dead or a complete disaster i don't know if i fully agree with it) i now have very minimal funds for cd buying. *sad face* I think i can get the Imogen Heap album which came out yesterday in the U.S., but i just found out that Flyleaf has a new album due in October, and Relapse 2 is supposed to drop before the end of the year... This could get tricky.
And while we're on the subject of financial issues, I'm tired of getting the fucking backburner with Evergreen. I faxed in all the ridiculous extra paperwork i never knew i needed for my financial aid, and the status on my myevergreen account is that all of those forms have been recieved, but for some reason the financial aid office has been to busy preforming fellatio on other things or something because the forms have yet to be reviewed... After 3 weeks of being there!!!!!! Hooray for government run offices!!!!!!

Holy Shite!!!

Winamp is the fucking shit!!!!
I'm so happy that dustin gave me this media player!!
I'm hearing things on albums that i never noticed before, and the visualizations are so amazing and mind-boggling!!!

I thought i was going to bed, but now i'm gonna stay up late just listening to music!

And they expect me to be a teacher?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
thats the funniest joke i've heard in a long time.
lets just get to the basics
i'm a failure.
always will be.

Glad for that laugh
cuz otherwise it's just fucking depressing.

WTF!? Was that supposed to be deep or something?!

Excuse me for saying
(and even if you don't imma say it anyway cuz that's who i am)
but what the fuck is with... well practically everyone?
I've decided to join a couple of writing sites online, and (despite some of them being infinitely confusing on exactly what is being posted) it seems like it's mainly filth...
Gah, i hate the fucking internet...
I mean, i really hope that i'm not just looking at this through my own shadow,
but i would like to think that i recognize good writing when i see it,
and so far i have yet to see it.
I may be able to attribute most of this to the fact that a lot of the things i see seem to be about a 16 year old paying homage to some relationship partner who dumped their sorry ass because they whined to much.
But still, one would think that amidst all of the madness there might be something that strikes a clearer bell.
I'm so fucking disappointed right now that i can't even concieve going on this train of thought...

but while we're on the subject of writing:
Charlie, i read what you posted on your story, and if this is what we're looking at now then i'm starting to like it. i kinda just scanned most of it (no fault to you; when i look at online articles i mostly just speed read, which is demeaning to your paper) and from what i saw i was pleased.
Minor spelling problems aside (that's why the good lord invented spellcheck on the 4th day) i think something that was distracting was that although your metaphors are very vivid and pleasing, they almost distract away from the storyline itself. But sometimes i like that, and it really will mainly come down to what mood i'm in when i read something. So i really wouldn't advise changing that much
I'm also just gonna stab in the dark here: Guessing we're talking the European front in WW2, and if that's the case it would be nice to know more specifically where in the European front this story is taking place, and this may result in you having to research battles of this war. I'm only saying this because the mood and description of your setting made it seem like the battle was taking place in a well forested area, and i'm not sure how many of those were fought in (purely personal speculation, not so much empirical). So as you progress make sure to further describe setting as well as characters (not that i think you wouldn't; i simply don't have any of your other work to really know how you write).
Anyway, i think i should be heading off to bed. I hope that you managed to weed through the first part of this post and recieved my critique. I will definitely read it through a couple more times to really grasp in, and i look forward to seeing more.

Oh crap; vertigo is setting in. Mos def bedtime.

"Where the light don't shine son"

just because everyone does something doesnt make it right

oh god... loving and hating life

...Until i find Hannah Montana then i reach for the aloe and lanolin

Well, not entirely sure what's going on with my financial aid right now... but it's kinda aggravating... not being sure whether i spelled that right and being too lazy to reach for the dictionary is less frustrating, but only slightly...

So to vent this anger i'm gonna touch myselft to that blonde girl from icarly... god she is a cutie...

What a night

and i'm sure it's going to be a fanfuckingtastic day as well.

Whoop Whoop

Painting it

"Who gave a crap. It was a body. A rented suit, yes. And bodies died, they were raped, they were smashed, they were cremated, they were buried in family tombs."

And as for you.
No, it wasn't the first thing you thought. Don't even play that game with me.

I Feel Like I Don't Say This Enough

So i'll say it now.

Fuck off.
All of you

The Measure of Another

So i wrote this as a response to an essay i stumbled upon online... I'm thinking of submitting it to the bend bulletin as an editorial piece, so if anyone has suggestions or thoughts i would love to hear them.

While on line a few days ago I stumbled upon a copy of Albert Einstein's essay, “The World as I See it.” Anyone who hasn't read this essay; I deeply implore you to search for it on the Internet or your local library, and for those of you who have already read it, I urge that you dig into it again and let his words soak into your mind. This brief essay draws from that work of his, and it is quite a sobering, short essay that should be looked at many times.
Many people already know the famous physicist for his theory of relativity and the equation E=MC², yet he contributed so much more to this world than he is typically acknowledged for by the general population. For example, Einstein wrote letters to President Roosevelt that described that German activities with enriched Uranium were taking place in the hopes that the Nazi's would create a super weapon. It is entirely plausible that without such assistance the events of the Second World War would have taken different turns.
Yet, even taking note of such events in this man's life seem to sell him short. As stated in his essay “The World as I See it,” Einstein is a firm believer in the idea of democracy, because it is one of the only systems of government in which a human is allowed to be all that he or she is. While Einstein did not specify entirely what it is that makes an human being an “individual,” it doesn't take a degree of philosophy to tackle this concept. A person is an individual in their own experiences and emotions. Each of us differ from one another in the ways that we think, speak, and react to the different circumstances that make up our lives. Through each of these aspects of ourselves that makes us different from one another, we contribute to the world around us. We do this by interacting with the people around us.
Einstein's essay is a pristine example of such a contribution; his essay shows him for what he really was. He was a human capable of individual thought and expression. He was someone who understood that he was something small in something big, but that he needn't be scared of his own size. And while it does not come through in his essay, we must know that Einstein was a man who at times was foolish, frustrated, infatuated, heartbroken, content, and downtrodden. We can know this because, setting aside every contribution to modern science he made, Albert Einstein was a human being. As history clearly demonstrated, he was capable of a higher level of thought than most, but he was a still a man who needed food and nurturing like the rest of us. Einstein saw hope in the idea of democracy. He could see something that would enable other human beings to recognize one another for all of our differences, and use these differences to help make a better society and world. But as much as he loved the differences between two humans, he abhorred humans become “idolized.” For a person to be looked at as more than a man was something to be avoided. I have to say that I ultimately agree with this idea.
When I look at the changes that different societies have gone through, I would say that humanity is getting closer to understanding its individual parts as something special and unique; albeit this change is happening at a painstakingly, slow rate. Yet, we as humans cannot seem to pull ourselves away from the concept of making a person more than what they are. We romanticize, we demonetize; we idealize, and satirize. This act of making a human much more than he or she is takes place within all walks of life: political candidates, next door neighbors, boyfriends and girlfriends, even the family pets face the possibility of being made into something more than their own existence. Perhaps this act is merely a by-product of the associative nature of the human mind, but in all ways this act is unfair to the needs and feelings of the object in question. To demonstrate this idea, I'll use the primary source for this essay: Albert Einstein. As I've already said, many people know this man for his contributions to modern science. No doubt that when his name was initially mentioned, the equation E=MC² briefly popped through some of the readers' heads. Yet, to simply summarize this man as his scientific contributions is unfair to the human being that he was. Or contrarily, to look only at his emotions and daily life does not do his existence justice, because the effects he has had on human life are vast, and--in all possibility--still rippling outwards to affect the future.
So why does any of this matter? Well I believe that this matters because I hope to one day be a history teacher, and I hope to show the future generations that history was much more than just a series of dates, wars, and economic factors. History is comprised of people who made invaluable changes to the way humans look at the world, and each of these people is worth far more than a couple page summary in the confines of a text book. Hopefully by showing people that who we are is just as important (if not more so) than what we do, we can begin to understand our past and future events with far greater clarity.
That is why this matters to me, but why should any of this matter to you, the reader? I hope that by reading this you will begin to see the people around you differently. I would hope that each of you who read this take a second or two out of your time, and really wonder about those around you whom you don't know very well. The kid who skateboards by your sidewalk in the afternoon, the mother who can't seem to stop her children from crying in the department store, the elderly man filling out forms in the D.M.V.; all of these people have lives that extend far beyond the brief moments that you see them. Each of those people that you briefly encounter are capable of all of the same feelings that you are. Each of them have dreams and needs. And while it would be nice to say that all of them have a life where everything is going well for them at this moment, chances are that someone that you see is struggling with something bigger than themselves. So please do not be so quick to judge, and please be quick to offer some assistance if you think somebody genuinely needs it. Your present life is affected under influences of many people who have made contributions, sacrifices, and mistakes in events past; how will you be effecting the future ahead?

"The World As I See It"

Is an essay by Albert Einstein... He truly was a genius... for more than he is given credit for by the general populus...
Here's the ending paragraph...

"The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed. It was the experience of mystery -- even if mixed with fear -- that engendered religion. A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, our perceptions of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty, which only in their most primitive forms are accessible to our minds: it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute true religiosity. In this sense, and only this sense, I am a deeply religious man... I am satisfied with the mystery of life's eternity and with a knowledge, a sense, of the marvelous structure of existence -- as well as the humble attempt to understand even a tiny portion of the Reason that manifests itself in nature."

And I Don't Think

that this will ever end.
But that could be because i have no conception of my future...
But i sincerely doubt that this will change...

A Flower Broken In Two

what the hell was i even thinking

well, at least we know one thing:
even after four years i'm still a fucking retard

And a shit ton of money later...

I have a laptop
and this is my 400th post...
which is a thoroughly disturbing thought... of course i think that this thing may count drafts and whatnot as well... but that's really not the point of anything...
Point is that hopefully i now have to never carry another cd anywhere.
I'm just starting to rip my entire collection.

It may be a long night...

Old Age

Gah... My back hurts...
Which i suppose isn't anything significant...
Though i don't really know that anything is
But that's the talent of anyone who creates something:
to make something out of nothing.
to expand things past a breaking point of reality and bring it into something more sublime.

Especially comedians.

So... Is this what we're talking about?

Okay seriously now, what the hell am i doing?
and why do i always get crazy tired when i type?
Fuck this shit.
Imma go find a dyke and bend her neck backwards

I'm sure that someday we'll wake up...

Sitting alone in Sean's house watching the twilight zone...
It's amazing how being at evergreen can paint the perspective that some problems only emerged recently...
Yet, here we can clearly see that even 50 years ago people were suffering from the same things that ail many people today...

I'm not sure...
Maybe nothing really works.

Apparently

I'm really bad at evaluating myself.

3 cheers for High Standards at an...
Yea nevermind

Dear Charles,

I feel that this is necessary. To do otherwise would be to punctuate this end of the year (that i'm feeling nothing for) with a wrong marking. At this point i'm not sure if this will be long or short winded; i have yet to write it of course. But you are aware that you do not have to read this. You have no obligations on anyone's part, and i will fully understand if your eyes peer no farther than the opening header. Nonetheless, i will proceed to recount things from my memory, which is not even remotely clear.

Exactly where to start is not clear. We both know the details, and i would assume that each of us has an idea of how they all fell into place. We had found ourselves in eachother's company. I'm not sure what it was that you found--or were finding--within myself, but i believe that i was finding a kindred spirit within you; someone who saw things from a perspective not too distant from my own. I don't think that there is really any need to gratuitously detail the events of the first weeks in this place: we took walks, we had talks, and things were as they would be.
Then through some fate things took a turn. I first became aware of it when, one morning, i knocked on your door to your room in an attempt to have someone to hang out with in the beginning hours of the day. As i stated before, my memory is not clear, and so whether or not i actually heard you within your room is a fleeting shadow across my mind. That fact is immaterial anyway, all that really matters is that either way i had rationalized in my mind that i was perhaps being far too needy on my part, and that i should simply wait until you made the next move that would advance our friendship. This line of thought has often been a master of my mind, and is the reason why i've had untold relationship failures and often struggle to get to know another person. So i had decided that it would be best for the both of us if i merely found something else to occupy myself for the time being, and waited until you next asked me to hang out.
Before i knew it we had apparently fallen out. The key words in that statement are 'before i knew it,' and 'apparently'. I say these because it seems as though other people had become aware of our rift before i truly was. I'm not sure if that was due to your everlasting mouth (this is a compliment, truly), or if other people were just more intune to our state. Either way, someone mentioned something to me about our current lacking, and whatever i may have said back to them was truly irrelevant; on the inside i was speechless and confused despite whatever i said on the outside. To me, waiting for you to make the next advance--the next plan for a day for the two of us--became something that slowly drifted to the deeper recedes of my mind. I was unconscious of the fact that we were not hanging out anymore, let alone joking, talking, and jesting as we had in previous weeks.
Once this fact was given light to me through an outside person, i felt as though some of my personal business had fallen to the hands of interlopers. As i'm sure you're aware, once personal business is brought out in the open (or in this case, revealed to be out in the open) the pressure to act is increased. Under this pressure i must sorrowfully admit that i had become slightly hostile. I searched your inner self and found anything i could grasp at that i could conceivably throw anger towards. I was never angry at you. Most of the things i said to have disliked you for i actually admire you for. I was merely angry at the fact that someone whom i had let view into the window of my life was no longer on my side. I was angry at the fact that i had no clue how to fix the situation that had befallen the two of us. I was still trying humbly to remain in my own life while hoping that you would be daring enough to step into it. Obviously we are now staring at the result of such action.
Of course there were things that i was genuinely angry towards with you. The first and foremost being that when Sean came to visit you told him that you were his temporary replacement. I had nothing against this at the time; it was a fact that we were both consciously aware of. The anger came when i reflected upon this moment after the fact that we were no longer on speaking terms was revealed to me. I was disgusted that i had let someone get that close to me to be able to say something of the sort, and then three weeks later there is no discourse between the two of us.
But it took something that my sister said to me when she came to visit that instantly dissolved any anger towards you, or myself, on this matter. After we had sat and watched the show (at this point i can't remember if it was for Flaming Mango, or one of the other thousand bands you've been in) she had brought you up in conversation... Or maybe i had on some comment about your bass lines. Either way i told Paige, "I really don't know what to think about him..." To this she responded, "He still looks at you, you know? Throughout the show he kept glancing over at you." Just like that, things became far more apparent to me than they had been. While it is possible that i could be misreading your looks as something of contempt, i am sure that this is not the case. When you and i look at one another, i sense a mutual understanding of the loss that has come to characterize us.
But exactly how far this understanding really grasps is beyond me. All i can know are my own feelings; beyond these i am a newborn kitten fumbling in the darkness on spindly legs. So what i do know is pure and simple: This fucking sucks. I hear you talking to others about the current writing project you're working on, asking others for advice and whatnot, and each time i want to scream at you, "Give me a copy dammit! I care about you enough to break your feelings with the truth of what i think, so i will help edit the shit out of your work if your really want it!" But each time i am checked by my inner impulse to remain humbly in my world until you step foot in it. I don't want to assume myself important enough in your life by actually asking to read your work, and i don't want to burden your time by asking you to read mine.
Which is, as far as i can tell, all that killed our being. I was too conscious of the possibility of me being annoying to keep trying to have a presence in your world. Unless i am misreading things, and you actually do have some bone of contention with me, we died out because we were too afraid to be men about the matter. Granted, you never were without a gaggle of followers, so i never felt comfortable discussing this with you personally, but i think that's a retarded thing to let a friendship die on. So this is me: extending the olive branch; lending a hand; building back my half of the bridge; doing whatever the fuck you want to call it to say to you, "I would enjoy having you be a force in my life again."
This is really all i have to say. What happens next is on you, and i feel as though i should emphasize that point, otherwise we may be doomed to repeat what killed us in the first place before we ever make any headway. I'm posting this on my blog as well as slipping it under your door, so just comment back, punch me in the chest, slaughter a chicken and hold an orgy in my room; do whatever you think is necessary to let me know how we stand after this. But just make sure that you let me know.

Yours Truly,
Nygil McCune.

Yes. Yes.

The Obscurity of this may one day be well forgotten
but for the time being maybe it meant something.

Butt-Fucking and a Lipstick Tube

Gah... finishing evaluations blows donkey dicks for spare change...
but at least it's cool inside this computer center...

and i'm IM-ing with Dustin which is nice.

Swooning...

Got Silversun Pickups New album...
It's the gentle, pulsing distortion i've come to love them for...

But now Dave Matthews' #41 is playing... Oh dear i love that man...

Well then...

Apparently the play worked pretty well...
or at least as well as it could from what we had to work with
I'll have to wait to see the dvd of it though before i'm sure

Trusting.

This is my final essay. All 21 pages of it (double spaced mind you).
If you want to find all of it's nuggets go ahead
leave me any suggestions if you have them,
or questions and comments if they are present as well.
no need to make me feel like a god however,
that's what roasting ants with a magnifying glass is for.

And as i already said,
Sean, this is for you.

Nygil McCune

Character Studies: Spring Quarter

Cumulative Paper: Vignette

What is There to Prepare For?

Leonard sat at his small table in the café where he was having his lunch. Pastrami on rye, not that there was anything significant in that; it was the same lunch he had been having for quite some period of time now. No, this would not have been an extraordinary lunch in any fashion had Leonard not spied a kid coming towards him in a wheelchair.

Well, Leonard wasn’t sure if “kid” was the term that one properly applied to a 16 year old, especially when Leonard himself was only 2 years older than Davis.

“Hey, Leo,” Davis murmured as he approached Leonard. “How’s lunch today?”

Leonard mulled over the correct response to Davis’s question as he ground a particularly spicy bite of Pastrami under his back teeth. Leonard knew Davis through school, the same one that Leonard had just graduated from 2 months ago. Their relationship had not extended much past that so Leonard was wondering what exactly it was that Davis could want with him.

“Eh, the same as it’s been the last couple months,” Leonard replied. And though he didn’t want to let it come out, Leonard felt the question escape his lips before he could control himself; remnants of social conditioning in his mind forcing him to be polite. “How have you been?”

“Um… Well, that was actually why I came up to you today. Do you remember towards the end of school when I was having a really bad day, and you said all that stuff, Gandhi and whatnot? It really helped me through that day, and I was kind of having a similar situation today… Maybe you could help me again?”

Ok, so maybe Leonard’s relationship with Davis did go just a little bit further than Leonard wanted to remember. There had been quite a few times that Davis had come to Leonard for advice. But now that Davis brought it up, Leonard sort of remembered the day that Davis was talking about. Some altercation had happened between Davis and his stepfather; something silly like Davis telling his stepfather to get the remote himself. From that point verbal abuse was thrown from both sides, and then to finish the whole deal, Davis’s stepfather hit Davis square in the back with a small 2x6 block of wood a few times. The first hit knocked Davis out of his wheelchair; the others were apparently just to further impound the lesson. Big man Davis’s stepfather was.

Leonard could only guess that the situation today was somewhat similar to the last time. In fact just under his T-shirt, Leonard could see a couple bruises on Davis’s upper arm, and there was a small amount of dried blood along Davis’s lips. Either Davis had bitten his tongue to help cope with the pain, or he had been hit in the face by something. Either scenario seemed equally likely.

But what the hell did Davis expect Leonard to really say? He was a kid as well, Leonard supposed, not some ‘wise in the ways of the world’ messiah or anything. There were still many troubles in Leonard’s life that he was trying to sort out, and he didn’t really like the way that Davis kept coming to Leonard as if he knew all the answers. But still, Davis apparently trusted Leonard in some way; some dire circumstance must have come about. Besides, what else could Leonard really do with Davis sitting here, dried blood on his lips?

Leonard swallowed the bite of his Pastrami on rye, took a deep breath, and opened his mouth to speak…

Nygil McCune

Character Studies: Spring Quarter

Cumulative Paper

What is Necessary to Begin

Throughout the many different aspects of life (religion, political, family, ect.) people place trust in one another. These people that are entrusted with some form of information or task can come in many varied shapes, sizes, influences, and denominations themselves, but nonetheless, people trusting one another seem to be inextricably part of any human society. Someone who has been entrusted with a task or intimate details of another’s life can provide many things, such as action and inspiration, and these actions can result with either positive or negative ends. The purpose of the previous statement is not to debate the beneficial or malevolent natures of people who have trust placed in them, but merely to establish that that these people can provide qualities and assurance to life.

Obviously there are some aspects of life where trust does not have an equal influence in one’s life. For example: the things expected from the trust one places in a politician are not the same things expected from a family member. Trust also has different expectations for different distances and contact between people; the trust for someone who is present everyday in one’s life will have different expectations that the trust placed in someone who is only seen once a month. This wide spectrum of expectations for trust is one of the reasons that trust can be a difficult thing to write about, but for the purposes of this exploration the focus will be primarily on trust of a more intimate nature between people who are in close contact.

With the focus of this essay clarified we can now move on to the role that one entrusts another person. As described above, people who have trust placed in them are capable of directing human life; this is a power entrusted to anyone who is asked for advice, and this power can be used for either benevolent or malevolent ends. An example of this idea can be seen between the interaction of the characters Iago and Othello in Shakespeare’s play “Othello.” Once Othello is promoted to be a commander of an army, Iago becomes envious of his former companion. Iago’s envy compels him to lie and deceive Othello and the other characters in order to ruin Othello’s life. An interesting part of this play is that it clearly demonstrates that trust does not have to follow hierarchical power structures. Trust can cause people to take the advice of those closest to them, no matter what their ranking is. As demonstrated by the play however, once trust is put into the advice of another person, that person then possess power in some quantity. Power, as it is best understood, is merely an abstract idea that represents the potential to act or change something. This potential is neither inherently good nor bad, but as “Othello” demonstrates, once a person entrusts another, that person has the potential to mislead the trusting person.

This is by no means an insinuation that people who have been entrusted to assist others will attempt to misdirect others. Ideally (or at least theoretically) the art of entrusting someone is a long, trying process. Iago and Othello had been friends for quite some time before the events mentioned in the play take place. It is this mature rapport that drives Othello to take Iago’s word over his new bride Desdemona’s. So as demonstrated in “Othello,” trusting someone with the task of assisting one’s self can be a very risky endeavor that results in shambles. Of course, this play is only one of hundreds of stories in which the issue of trust is brought up. There are numerous literary and historical cases in which a character places trust in another human being, and is subsequently castigated for this action. There are also numerous examples, both fictitious and real, in which the same scenario as above takes place, but instead of being reprimanded for his or her trust, the character is rewarded for making such a relationship with another person. It would appear as though the entire world is split as to whether or not placing trust in a fellow human being is a good or bad action.

With there being numerous examples of trust helping someone, and equally numerous examples of it hurting someone, when does one decide that it is worth it to entrust another person with providing direction into his or her life? Soren Kierkegaard seems to believe that it is not necessary for humans to assist one another in their lives when he says in Fear and Trembling, “if the generation would only concern itself about its task [in his case: the quest to find faith, in this one: learning to live in general], which is the highest thing it can do, it cannot grow weary, for the task is always sufficient for a human life” (131). While Kierkegaard was talking primarily about faith, he mentions that faith is an act of passion. In fact, he states that faith is “the highest passion in a man” (130). So far these points seem rather tangential to the previous discussion. But are not most of the issues that we seek advice for on issues of “passion”? Are not most of the hardest issues we deal with in life issues of “passion”? In this sense Kierkegaard’s discussion carries through much more than his debate of faith. By saying that “no generation has learned from another to love” it can be seen that emotions are an individual experience (130). Undoubtedly there are multiple people who experience similar emotions, but it can be quite doubtful that these people all arrived at these emotions and can alleviate them in a duplicate manner. So while one person can describe one’s own struggles and over comings, another person will never be able to vicariously live these own experiences to alleviate his or her own. All of these points collide to demonstrate that learning how to live is an experience that will last an individual his or her entire lifetime. Kierkegaard goes even further to chastise those who assist one another by saying that “the false knight of faith readily betrays himself by this proficiency in guiding which he has acquired in an instant” (90). What was meant in this is that humans have a very narrow window into the world; our understanding of events is really just a single drop of water in a continually shifting ocean. Furthermore he writes, “The knight of faith is obliged to rely upon himself alone, he feels the pain of not being able to make himself intelligible to others, but he feels no vain desire to guide others” (90). One who actually understands the issues of passion that are present in human existence knows the futility of trying to make his or her life a prescribed method of living.

Such thoughts truly are bleak and disheartening to even the most tenacious of individuals. Throughout, Kierkegaard himself seems to feel the dreary state of following such a path, at times even seeming to be incredulous at his own ideals. Yet, this sorrow seems to be a pivotal point in human life. Kierkegaard reasons that it is human to be sorrowful and downhearted, yet, through perseverance one can become a great individual (32).

Since learning to deal with one’s passions is an individual, emotional experience that cannot be attained vicariously, it seems as though entrusting others to assist one’s self is not even necessary for one to attain a better understanding and control over one’s passions. Yet, it should be asked whether or not the world would actually be in a better place if no humans assisted one another in their individual struggles. It seems highly doubtful that such a reality would be considered better than the one we currently occupy if people walled up their questions and advice within themselves. Kierkegaard’s own ideas don’t fully support this end. The rules that he lays down are concerned primarily with his idea of a “knight of faith.” In his mind, a “knight of faith” is someone who has attained perfect understanding of his passions already: a paradox when this idea is laid beside his statement that understanding and controlling passion is a lifelong process for a human. If such a quest is to last an individual his or her lifetime, how is one to become a “knight of faith” while still being a human with plenty of years still to be lived? This action, it would seem, is reserved for the divine figures of holy texts, and Kierkegaard’s flights of imagination as to how such understanding would manifest itself in a person.

This idea of humans never placing trust in one another seems preposterous. If, as Kierkegaard stated, learning how to control one’s passions is such a tedious, lifelong process, it seems doubtful that a few moments in which one provides assistance to another could actually have a devastating effect on the overall control one would achieve at the end of his or her life. Moreover, Kierkegaard’s use of the term “false knight of faith” in his condemnation of those who speak of “that which they have acquired in an instant, lends itself to the interpretation that a “false knight” is not an everyday person struggling with his or her own issues, but instead a person that profess to have the utmost insight and presents themselves as an example to live by; someone corrupt in their attempts to help others.

This is quite the paradoxical statement indeed. How exactly is it possible that one can be corrupt in wanting to help others? As stated above, when one person is entrusted to assist another person (or with any task really) the person entrusted gains some form of power. In A Stone of Hope, David Chappell references Reinhold Niebuhr, and says that “it was necessary to corrupt oneself in order to get power” (31). As said above, one can gain power by being entrusted with a task from another person. Also as stated above, this is neither a good nor bad circumstance; power is potential, and without potential nothing would ever be accomplished. But this perilous necessity of corrupting one’s self is one that Albert Camus seems to fully understand in his book The Plague, when he has his character, Tarrou, say that “’we can’t stir a finger in this world without the risk of bringing death to somebody’” (252). To render this statement into more philosophical terms; Kant says that one must respect that all sentient life as ends in themselves, and that to treat them instead as means is a perturbation of their natural state (Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, 95). On this level all beings have a nearly limitless power within themselves. Yet, when one places trust (even temporarily) in another person, he or she hands over some of that nearly limitless power to the other person. That person now has entrusted his or herself to the ends of another person, and has consequently become a means to the entrusted person’s ends; now helpless to be either rewarded or exploited. This is true with all levels and types of trust, be it from simple friendships to complex political and religious followings. So to return back to Kierkegaard from this exploration, it appears that he really has no qualm with people helping one another discover the most helpful ways of life; he himself set out to do so with his book. Yet, he recognized that one must be humbly aware of the fact that he or she is not a true “knight of faith,” and that serious responsibilities are entailed when one becomes an entrusted person. Though perhaps it would be better still to not seek out to be a trusted guiding power in another’s life, but to instead nurture and cherish any trust that a fellow human decides to bestow upon another. In this way there is minimal corruption taking place on the part of the entrusted, and the trust bestowed can become something far more special in itself.

Nonetheless, the desire to help out others in their struggles seems to be an imbedded part of the human character; Albert Camus’s characters demonstrate this imbedded aspect all throughout the aforementioned Plague. When the plague forces the town’s gates to be closed, the denizens of Oran turn towards one another, in ways that they previously had not before, in order to find comfort and meaning in the struggle against the plague. Camus even encourages people to help one another in times of struggle. When the character Rambert is told that there is nothing shameful about him leaving the city to be happy with his wife, who is outside the quarantine zone, Rambert replies, “‘Certainly, but it may be shameful to be happy by one’s self’” (209). Taken another way: What good is it for one to prosper while others still dwell in a state of suffering? This question is a repeated theme throughout the book, and gives support to the idea that humans should help one another because, “[the] public welfare is merely the sum total of the private welfares of each of us” (88). Interestingly enough, the character Rambert initially uses this argument to justify his desire to leave the quarantined city and rejoin his wife. Later on in the story though, when Rambert realizes that his colleague, Rieux, was in a very similar situation, Rambert understands that by sacrificing a small portion of his individual well being he can make the public well being far better.

This is splendid news indeed, for the examples given in The Plague demonstrate that individuals have the capacity to assist one another, and make general life easier for all involved. But this has only established, as a counter-point to initial observations of Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling, that humans appear to have a need to assist one another, and that this need may be a beneficial facet of existence. Emphasis is placed on the word “may,” because, as stated above, there are numerous examples in which this need has brought about circumstances with no beneficial outcome. So the question still remains: When does one decide that it is worth it to entrust another person with providing direction into his or her life? Answers to this question can be found throughout numerous literary and historical tales, and the root of this question seems to lie at the more basic issue of a person’s own motivation. This issue brings up the subsequent issue that if more than one motivation exists for entrusting someone with providing advice and direction, then there obviously must be more than one type of trust.

Thankfully, such issues have already been explored in great depth by numerous people before this time. Aristotle wrote of such issues in his Nicomachean Ethics under the chapter of “Friendship”. One of the first things written in this chapter is the phrase, “[friendship] is most necessary for our life” (119). However, this idea of “friendship” that is put forth by Aristotle will not fully answer the question explored by this essay because Aristotle primarily explores reciprocal friendships, while trust is not required to act reciprocally (while at present this statement may seem to be contradictory it will be understood later), as is demonstrated when he writes “If they are to be friends, then they must have goodwill to each other” (121). Nonetheless, Aristotle’s work will provide a steady foundation for this exploration, because for a friendship to take place one must first place trust in another that the goodwill shown towards him or her will not be misused.

The first type of “friendship” brought up by Aristotle is a friendship of utility, or of “those who love for utility or pleasure” (121). This type of a friendship is based upon a single person cozies up to another in order to enhance his or her own well being. In all practicality, calling such a relationship a “friendship” was quite a generous stretch, and Aristotle wrote that these friendships dissolve after the enhancement of one’s well being ceases. A friendship of pleasure is Aristotle’s second type of friendship, and it is based off of a reciprocal desire for pleasurable experiences. This type of friendship seems to be the relationship predominantly attributed to lovers, and can dissolve when a person’s interpretations of pleasure change. The final type of friendship brought into play by Aristotle was the “complete friendship”. This type of friendship is one that is reciprocal between two equals, and that the individuals are friends not for their own sake, but for the sake of their partners (121-123).

Using Aristotle to look at some of the previous works mentioned in this essay brings an interesting light to some of the stories. While it is never detailed in “Othello” what caused Othello and Iago to form a friendship, one can only assume that they were once quite close friends who had met in the barracks. But after Othello becomes promoted to a higher ranking position than Iago, gaps in goodwill form and the friendship promptly disintegrates from a “complete friendship” to a “utility friendship”. Should Othello have realized this change in friendship he might have been able to prevent the disaster that befell him. However, his trust in the previous bond blinds him to the rumblings of the ground beneath his house of cards. While Shakespeare’s tale is an example of the fact that trust does not need to be reciprocated to exist (this is only a brief example of this point; a more thorough one will be brought up), it seems as though the issue of trust’s causation is an elusive vagabond. This could be due to the fact that trust seems paramount to the formation of friendship, and that “Othello” is not a story of such circumstances. “Othello” is a tale of the blinding nature of trust, and only begs further for the origins of trust to be sought out.

Camus’ Plague on the other hand, is a story of the circumstances that nurture trust’s formation. In this story there are two events that will be focused on, the first being the relationship between Rambert and Rieux. The relationship between the two begins as more of what Aristotle would define as a “utility friendship”. Rambert requests three things from Rieux: the first is some information that might lead to a story that Rambert can publish as a reporter, and the second is for help in escaping the city’s quarantine zone. These two requests benefit Rambert solely, and are what classify these characters’ relationship as one of utility. The third request comes as the manifest of Rambert’s decision to place trust in the advice and actions of Rieux, and evolves their friendship closer towards Aristotle’s exceptional “complete friendship”. This request is that Rambert is allowed to work alongside Rieux. The cause of this sudden change of character is because Rambert realizes that Rieux’s situation in the disease ridden town is not much different from his own. So it seems from this illustration that one reason that a person entrusts another is through a realization that the individuals share a similar struggle, bond, or goal.

The second primary example of trust in The Plague involves the characters Tarrou and Rieux. This example begins with Tarrou asking, “’Rieux, do you realize that you’ve never tried to find out anything about me—the man I am? Can I regard you as a friend?’” (245). From here Tarrou entrusts Rieux with a tale of his life, and the two of them discuss various philosophical sentiments among themselves from here. This entrusting is a rapid and startling event that appears to even catch Rieux off guard with its abrupt beginning. After Tarrou’s tale, two ideas are offered to explain exactly why Tarrou entrusted Rieux with this information. The first of these is that, as Tarrou says, “Yes, we’re both after the same thing, but I’m less ambitious,” and the second is that Tarrou expresses interest in becoming a saint (255). Out of these two sentiments it can be guessed that, much like the situation between Rambert and Rieux, Tarrou sensed a common bond between the two of them, and that Tarrou has a problem in which he believes Rieux can assist him with better understanding.

Both of these points seem to fully warrant the action of entrusting another person, but perhaps there is a third, additional motivation behind Tarrou’s actions. This point is more clearly articulated in Toni Morrison’s tale Beloved. In the tale Paul D arrives at 124 to find a woman named Sethe whom he used be a fellow slave with on a plantation. The two begin telling their stories to one another, and while it is possible to say that they entrust one another simply because the two of them shared common bonds of bondage, it would seem that the motivations run deeper than that. When Paul D first returns, Sethe asks herself “Would it be alright to go ahead and feel? Go ahead and count on something?” (38). From the moment that Paul D returns he begins to support her burdens and know her scars, as illustrated by his cupping her breasts and kissing the massive scar on her back when he is standing in her kitchen, so that she can do more than simply keep her past at bay. Sethe needs to entrust the story of what happened to her to someone else so that she can quit harboring such pain by herself, and move on to a state of mind where she is free to love and cherish life, and have a future. This very need is symbolized by the sudden discovery of the girl who comes to be known as “Beloved”. Sethe begins to tell the story of her pains to Paul D, but she stops short of telling the full tale. Then Beloved’s sudden existence demands an explanation for the rest of the story harbored by Sethe. This need for one to entrust in another could have been an additional motivation in Tarrou’s entrusting of Rieux.

Yet, in Beloved, Sethe’s story almost destroys her when she dwells within it too far. This idea of letting a story destroy one’s self is put forth is Paul D’s thoughts, “saying more might push them both into a place they couldn’t get back from” (72). Once Sethe opened the wounds of her past she failed to properly close them. Instead she continued to dig and pick at the open sores of her past, ripping open the remaining decent flesh and making it part of the wound as well. This is illustrated in the third part of the book, where Beloved becomes violent towards Sethe, and it becomes clear that Beloved intends to drag Sethe down with the shame of Sethe’s past actions. At this point the relationship between Sethe and Beloved turns sour, much in the same way as the aforementioned relationship between Othello and Iago. Yet despite all of the malevolence Beloved shows towards Sethe, Sethe continues to let Beloved close to her; another example that trust does not need to be reciprocated for it to exist. In this scenario it seems as though Sethe put too much trust in the wrong thing, she had begun to entrust Paul D, yet she stopped short and put too much trust in what was actually hurting her most.

Yet, what was it about Paul D that actually made him so trust worthy? And for that matter, why was Camus’ character Rieux the center of trust as well? In Beloved, Paul D is described as a very compassionate man. Paul D's state seems to be a mystery, even to him, as the book says, “he had become the kind of man who could walk into a house and make women cry… There was something blessed in his manner” (17). While Morrison never fully explains what caused this blessed manner, there are a few reasons as to why this manner exists in his character. It could be the fact that Paul D encountered quite a few hardships in his time, and that these hardships manifested themselves in his speech, walk, or stare. Or his mannerisms could stem from the fact that he keeps his own emotions sealed away and believes himself void of a heart, so that he essentially becomes an “emotional black hole” and draws others’ emotions to the surface. As for what makes Rieux’s character so trust worthy, he appears to be a rather humble doctor; shouldering his own burdens quietly while willingly assisting others with their own. When the characters Tarrou and Rambert begin to entrust Rieux, it is obvious that they share common bonds.

Both of these things are true of both Paul D and Rieux, but a curious difference between the two of them is that while Paul D reciprocally entrusts Sethe, Rieux doesn’t seem to entrust anyone else within the story (with the exception of the reader, but in a great sense both stories entrust the reader with a tale). While Paul D is considerably quieter with his entrusting than Sethe, he still commits this act far more than Rieux. Rieux seems to refuse to share the story of his life with the other characters in The Plague. When Rambert is so vehemently insisting that he suffers greatly from being separated from his wife, Rieux does not indulge the fact that he as well is suffering from a similar separation; Rambert has to be told this information through a third party. Yet, as stated before, perhaps this is not because Camus wants Rieux to seem deprived of the need to entrust people, but because instead the mere telling of this the tale is Rieux’s act of entrusting. Perhaps Rieux’s entrusting is not of a common bond, or of an idea that advice can be sought from another person, but it is just like Sethe’s in the fact that it is a story that needs to be told. Both of these characters, however, do not seek to be entrusted, and perhaps this is because they understand the corruption that this would create in themselves, but they accept the trust given to them humbly and nurture it into something greater. Maybe this is ultimately what makes them so naturally trustworthy.

Out of these three roots of trust: a common bond, recognition of a helpful individual, and a need to entrust, it can be seen that perhaps Aristotle was on the correct track by stating, “When a good person becomes a friend he becomes a good for his friend. Each of them loves what is good for himself, and repays in equal measure the wish and the pleasantness of his friend” (Nicomachean Ethics, 125). This idea of becoming a “good for one’s friend” is a brilliant metaphor for the change of power when one entrusts another person. This sentiment also expresses the idea that all of these roots of trust act for the well being of the one who entrusts; in each of the stories presented above trust was given to another on the hope of the improvement of his or her well being.

Yet, Aristotle’s statement fails to properly highlight another aspect that all three of these roots share: the vulnerability and humility one person experiences in trusting another person. The aspect of vulnerability was present in all of these situations through the understanding that a power shift has just occurred within the relationships of each of these people. In each of the stories a person also reaches a state of humility as the act of entrusting another begins. For Rambert it was the realization that he was not the only person who suffered, Othello realized that he possessed doubts within himself; Sethe’s eyes are fully reopened to the idea that she did a terrible thing, and Tarrou openly admits that while he may understand a great deal, he is unsure of how to act against the atrocities he sees. Even the very aloof character Creon in Sophocles’ play of “Oedipus the King” has a humbling experience through trust. After Oedipus gouges out his eyes and requests exile, Creon tells Oedipus, “I’d have done that already, I promise you./ First I wanted the god to clarify my duties” (Lines 1573-1574). At this line Oedipus responds that the god had already gave a command, to which Creon replies, “So he did. Still, in such a crisis/ it’s better to ask precisely what to do” (Lines 1578-1579). The tremendously tragic and shocking situation of Oedipus’s self mutilation makes Creon realize that even he with all his power reached a situation where he did not know precisely what to do, and that someone else needed to be consulted.

Perhaps it is this state of being vulnerable and humble that truly defines when trust is occurring, regardless of under what other conditions it occurs. Surely there are many other conditions than the three aforementioned roots of trust brought up in this exploration that explains why people place trust in one another; humans have many needs and we may fill them using a variety of different means, and deciding when it is worth the potential consequences to place trust in someone seems more like an issue of personal discretion than something that can be repeatedly formulated. Some might be quick to write parts of the previous statement off as an example of the selfishness of human action. But under the light given to us by these characters it seems apparent that trusting is not a selfish action in the least. Trusting is the exact opposite of a selfish action, even if the result is helpful to an individual, because of the emotions that are present during its enactment. During the enactment of entrusting another person, one opens him or herself to misuse and manipulation by the other person; a great risk of harm is present. Exposing one’s self to risk and giving power to another person could never be viewed as a selfish action, and so regardless of the actual outcome or the reasons trust was placed, trusting someone will always be a selfless action. As so helpfully demonstrated by the characters brought up in this exploration, this selfless action is one of humility and vulnerability, and genuine trust can always be discerned by the presence of these emotions.

What Aristotle said about friendship being necessary could definitely be true, and trusting someone is the first step in creating friendships. Throughout all of the literary examples there seems to be something natural about the characters placing trust in one another. In “Othello,” the love between Othello and Desdemona came from her sympathy towards Othello when he told her some of the stories of his life. The relationship between Paul D and Sethe in Beloved seems very similar to this as well, and even the relationship between Tarrou and Rieux in The Plague feels as though it comes from a similar vein to the previous examples. All of these relationships create a situation in which a person’s burdens are split shouldered between the person and another. And as can be seen through the relationship of Paul D and Sethe, this sharing of a load helps both of them deal with their own troubles. Yet, as was also shown through the relationship between these two characters, the act of entrusting another person can be a perilous one that can endanger the stability of a person when burdens are shared from deeper within one’s self. But overall the development of these relationships and the stories shared between the characters suggest that there are things in human life that are not meant to be carried and dealt with by one’s self. So while the exact conditions that are present that enable one to lower his or her defenses and trust another person will vary between people, it can be seen that this act of making one’s self vulnerable and humble to another person can be extremely beneficial, if not necessary, to human existence.

Nygil McCune

Character Studies: Spring Quarter

Cumulative Paper: Epilogue

To Return to the Beginning

This paper is dedicated to Sean Brown.

I don’t honestly believe that I will ever fully understand the idea of trusting someone. And furthermore, I don’t think that I ever wish to. But I do know that trust is going to be a present force throughout the rest of my life, and that even if I can never comprehend it, I should at least come to some terms with it. I suppose that’s what I strived for in this paper. Though, because I don’t believe that I will ever fully understand trust I can’t help but to wonder if I truly discovered something, or merely awakened a bit of myself that has become dormant beneath the turmoil of a freshman year at college.

When I look at this paper I see it almost as a classic song for piano in a minor key; the paper seems to build tension within itself and then release within the next couple paragraphs. The most obvious example of this is in the section where I initially introduce Kierkegaard’s work from Fear and Trembling. The tension is within the idea that someone who understands everything will never be able to share his or her knowledge with another living soul, and that perhaps we should follow in the footsteps of such a person to attain enlightenment. While on some level I agree with such a sentiment, I do not believe that what was put forth by Kierkegaard was wholly true. Nonetheless, it was the fact that on some level I did agree with Kierkegaard that created some form of tension within myself. Just as in the paper, this tension became released gradually, until I had read Camus’ Plague. Going through that book I then remembered what it was that I had thought about trusting one another, and about many aspects of faith in general: there is nothing wrong with (and for some it should be a priority) reaching out and attempting to be a reflection of the divine, but we must above all remember that we are still fallible humans who can become lost and flounder in our existence. The Plague put out, in basic, existential terms, that we should do what we can to comfort those fellow humans who are floundering and fumbling at times, and that through doing this we may lessen the struggle of existence for all.

While Camus’ book dealt primarily with the issue of helping others out in times of crisis, it does not deal with assisting one’s self, which is what entrusting another person does. This is where Beloved came in. Through the character of Sethe we can see that some stories need to be told to another in order for one to actually function as an ideal human should. One of the reasons that this was my favorite book of the year was through the way that it functions and unfolds itself: the beginning is convoluted dissonance, yet out of that conglomeration of past and present a sincere train of though emerges, and characters begin the process of releasing inner burdens and trusting one another. But what truly makes this story my favorite is how the character Sethe becomes drawn to the brink of destruction through her attempt at unleashing her burdens. Beloved demonstrates, better than many other things that I have read, the danger of making one’s self too vulnerable to the troubles that one has within his or herself when entrusting another person. This aspect of trust is a tension within trust itself, and can be seen as one of the reasons some people have difficulties placing trust within another person.

But another thing that Beloved demonstrates so well, is the helpfulness of sharing one’s burdens with another person; Sethe comes back from the brink of her destruction, convinced that she has lost everything, but is then told by Paul D that she is her own everything. Sethe is opened to the idea that her tragedies of the past are not what defines herself, but that she is the one who defines herself. Nevertheless, she would have never reached this epiphany without the struggle that lead her into the dark wells of her past acts, and it was the unburdening to Paul D that set this journey in motion and brought her to the final realization.

I’m still not entirely convinced that placing trust in someone is necessary as Aristotle stated, but I do think that it can play a large beneficial role in a person having an idea of a future and being mentally healthy. That is of course if someone’s trust is accepted humbly and nurtured and cherished by the entrusted person. I do not have any real arguments about how I do not believe trust is not necessary, but more or less leave it in the column of “not impossible but improbable”.

Along a somewhat similar train of thought, I do not know that we could ever really know what mindset a person has to be in order to entrust another person. This is one of the reasons that I don’t believe I will ever fully grasp the issue of trust. As I said, there surely are wide spectrums of circumstances that enable one to make a judgment call about trusting another. And really, that’s what trusting another person is: a judgment call that we hope works out for the best. However, I do believe that there are things in human life that cannot be dealt with solely by one’s self; Toni Morrison would probably concur. And it is when we are dealing with these moments, that we must really hope that our best judgment is being made as to who is actually trustworthy. So with this paper I don’t think that I really laid down any kind of groundwork that I believe people should follow, nor was that really my intention come to think of it. But I hope that after one has read through this they find the particular moments of their own lives where they realize there is a need of another person to split a burden between, and then find someone to share with.

Missles are go.

N. Korea sure seems intent on launching a nuke... and while that's chilling news of some sort
my heart goes out to them in some way
they must understand that they are one of the most hated nations by those in the U.N.
and that the permanent members of the U.N. Security Council still possess nuclear arms (which make it impossible to hug your children!)

so i can understand their desire to have something,
to not feel so left behind by the rapidly advancing "new world"...

but for those of you who are terrified by this news
realize
that the only way nuclear disarmament will ever occur
is if all the second world countries threaten to develop atomic weapons
unless the first world countries disarm themselves.
until then all of those U.N. sanctions are merely hypocrisy.

Hello

"Allow me to introduce myself
My name is
(Shady)
It's so nice to meet you"

Gah, Eminem's new album isn't his best by any means, but that song is stupidly catchy... all of them are really.

So Good To-

-See you once again,
I thought that you were hiding from me,
you thought that i had run away
chasing the train of smoke and reason...


Sean has his phone again... that's one of the best pieces of news i've had in a while...

For Sentimentality Purposes

muh.... Fighting the urge to space (shudder) out and just twirl my hair...

I now have a cigarette butt added to my collection of eclectic odds that never resulted in an end...
And i know that they will all go out with the trash at the end of the year...
After all, what good are objects like a half broken stick and a cigarette butt?

But either way...
I hope you can accept what has become of this...
You know that you're one of the three that i no longer feel so... Soiled when you are around...
And i don't want to lose that

Nothing is set in stone as they say,
and that alone gives me hope and fear.

What The Fuck Am I Doing...

Pathetic...

Dreams, Fantasies, and... Something Else...

Had two dreams last night
one was that could actually scream and that was sick.
the other involved someone who was in almost every single one of my dreams but for a while i hadn't been remembering my dreams...
either way it made me sad to wake up...

And i guess i don't have any plans today... not that i fully expected to have them anyway; i can't expect to find a place in someone else's life, let alone this one...
but i still will play the friend card i suppose, which isn't hard to do seeing as to i have an actual interest in her life.

and... eh
nvm...
I don't want to write anymore today...

Why I Can't Tune In To The News

I'm going to try and ignore the fact that people read this right here...

We had to watch a film in class today titled "Inherit the Wind"
The film is a dramatization (well that much was obvious) of the Scopes trial in the early 20th century. The trial was on whether or not a teacher should be punished for teaching evolutionary theories. Then name of the film comes from Proverbs 11:29, which says : He that troubles his own house shall inherit the wind: and the fool shall be servant to the wise of heart.

So anyway... we're watching this film, and then about an hour into it i just completely lost myself.
It's not that i really care about the debate between intelligent design and evolution, which apparently troubles one of my teachers, but i guess more so the issue is why i don't care about the debate... And then on the next level: any debate in particular...
The movie had arrived at a point where the defense attorney's entire group of witnesses (zoologists, scientists, and archeologists) had been deemed irrelevant to the case. Because of this the defense attorney seeks to be dropped from the case, as it had reached preposterous levels of ignorance and bias. Instead of dropping him, the judge holds him in contempt of court, and makes it mandatory that he stays... The next scene is of people setting fire to a scarecrow analogous to the defense attorney...
At this point i had to walk into the hall and i fell to my ass crying on the wheelchair ramps... I just... Idk... i can't fathom why people are so quick to anger against one another...
And it's this fact that has made me stop paying attention to any world events...
It seems like we've become so concerned with this illusory battle of "right vs. wrong" that we fail to see that the real issue on things is whether or not something is making a person's life better...
So i've stopped watching the news... and i laugh at things that are terrible, because to see them in any other light is not something i can continually do...

Humans become so quick to attack one another over ideas, that it makes me wonder whether or not i actually want to have any ideas...
And i dread that we as thinking, feeling beings may be more than well on our way to inheriting the wind.

The 4 T's of you

This seems like the gayest thing that i could do...
But while i was writing my term paper i hit the last paragraph and with each word i typed all i could think about was you; things, times, talks, and tears. And when i come to think about it, the reason that i chose this subject to write on was that this subject is my faith, and that what i'm going through now is my test of faith, and that i can only hope that you feel the same way.
And i've never really dedicated anything to anybody, i've written shit about them, but i aint ever dedicated anything to anyone.

But imma dedicate this to you.

The whole thing will be up on my myspace, and probly here as well, after i correct whatever they say needs changed on it tomorrow.
So if you get the time, go ahead and wade through all 20 pages of this shit when i post it... i know you probly won't understand half of it cuz you didn't read the books that i did (fuck, i didn't even read the books that i did!), but i trust that when you get to that last paragraph you know that i'm writting to you.
and in the epilogue (that i haven't written yet) i'm supposed to be writting to my teacher and explaining how i felt about this project or some shit...

But imma write that to you as well.

I don't know if you read these or not, and if you don't I'm hoping this just finds its way through the ether to you:
I love you, man.
See you soon.

Haha... Oh Dear....

MMMMmmmm....
As much as i enjoy these casual (well, outwardly so) happenings, i'm not sure i can take them on such a heavy frequency... To much adrenaline making it feel like my stomach just melted into my feet... Fight or flight syndrom is an odd thing...

As Fast As She Can... Really Now?

Life in reverse is a little bit different... You have the chance for reflection and hindsight... You have the ability to put all of your past emotions under the light of the present.
This being the case, a happy ending should reign over the past... even when a happy ending is presented as being in the future, and right now everything is that deep blue.
At least, this is the way that perhaps it should be. I on the other hand never took any stock in this idea...
At the moment that my class presented me with the idea of a "teleological suspension of the end" (i.e. present ethics, emotions, and actions are null and void because the end is far superior) i rejected that shit. A teleological suspension of the end is a brilliant concept to introduce in a story for its characters, but an aspect that a story has over real life is that the actual "end" in a story is far more clearly defined. In real life there is only the present. In real life the only teleological suspension of the end is when you commit an act and the police have yet to catch you, or you put down the knife and sleep instead, knowing full well that you'll probly pick it right back up tomorrow.
Still, arriving at any end that is not the present moment one is in right now, presents chances for reflection; points missed before are now exposed and things can be seen under new lights. So there is definitely value for being able to keep a re-run. But as Bukowski very well knew there is also madness in it.

And all of these things are the reasons as to why that is my favorite show; it offers both points. One can have the suspension of the end, and the struggle between that makes the end worth itself. Both the madness and reflection are presented. So while your heart is broken there is still the guarantee of the forthcoming joy.
And i guess one can attribute all of that to the magic of Hollywood.
But still...

"She's coming as fast as she can."
Such a crazy thought.
But at the same time it's true.

Realistically Now

I'm sure you didn't mean it like i read into it. (well, i mean, but we aren't going to play that game tonight.)
I know that you meant it as something offhand that would put any fears i've had to rest.
But the way i saw it...
It made me realize exactly how small of a role i have: i'm background noise, if not actually static.

I mean like really now, what the fuck was i thinking would happen?
Did i actually expect the universe to really and actually get behind me on something?
I'm not even sure what i thought i could bring to the table.

Shit, i don't stand a single fucking chance.

Musings... Well... Sortof

I mean i had some.
But then through trying to express how i arrived at them i became weary.
I guess as Kierkegaard would put it, i realized the burden of being unintelligible to others as a knight of faith; i can't lead you down the paths i have taken, my own lantern has burned too low for me to return and ferry others with me. But i can leave small breadcrumbs perhaps, and if the crows don't get to them first, you may have them.

My main point is this.
Maybe everybody was wrong after all.
Maybe it's not that people are "too young to know what (emotions such as) love is(/are)."
But it's that people seem to have this desire to convey things through the abstract use of sound (aka language,) and when people are younger they don't posses the same language... This is no fault of their own...
But as i look around i realize that this is what makes emotion genuine for some dumb fucking reason. And that if you can't explain something eloquently then you must not feel it. Or hell, even if you can't express it simply people don't seem to regard it; they take it as rhubarb.
And maybe, i could be crazy in saying this but just maybe, this "necessity" to make feelings heard by and explained to others ruins some of the act of actually feeling one's emotions.

I got this from the film we had to watch today in class. It was on the song "Amazing Grace," and throughout the film there are multiple interviews with people from various backgrounds. At each one of these interviews the interviewer asks each person what they believe "Grace" is.
And each person gave good answers... Or at least they sounded good, but when i stuck that dirt in my mouth it tasted a little off.
But then the person asked this 10 year old black child in the Harlem Boys Choir what he thought grace was.
And the little boy replied,
"It's like when I'm on the beach, and the wind brushes up against my hair."

Now there was some dirt actually worth covering one's self in.
So i believe in what that Hopkins woman says in her prose/story "Burned"
that love really only happens when you're young.
And i think that's so because as we get older we become more "experienced" at describing what we feel or should feel, and what he said or she said, and the other needs of being a responsible adult typically start to take hold
So we spend all this time talking about and trying to describe how we feel
that we lose some of what we were actually trying to talk about in the first place.

Ruth says i look tired.
I should probly sleep then

How is it

that i can feel like Haydn is just showing off but that Chopin and Mendelssohn are being authentic?
And that Clementi has some self respect, but then looses just a little every now and then... But either way his use of time changes is worth noting. Very rarely can a person make that leap.

Don't know what all this has to do with anything, but i've been up since at least 4:45, so perhaps it's just something to do.

Lay Spread Out Before Me

MMMmmmm... Stuff.....
I'm stupidly excited at all of the thought, expression, and wealth of knowledge that lays in the box of the Twilight Zone that i just got... I feel as though i've unearthed some sort of artifact and can't wait to begin slowly prying into it, and getting dirt all over me.

More important note...
Ian had me record a bass line for this song he has on his mixer.
So he played it, i got a feel for the general scale and timing, and then he let me loose on it.
I played over all of it, and then we listened to it i was almost blown away.
Not so much from what i did; the bass line wasn't too complex, i could have made it more so.
What was really startling was that when Ian played it back to me i had this weird feeling like there was an invisible me playing bass in the room... Well, that's the way my right brain would describe it.
My left brain has this to say:
The sound of the bass that was recorded was easily recognized as my own.
In what i had managed to lay down there were elements that i could define as my own.
The tone, the articulate syncopation and staccato,
I had come to the realization of what MY OWN sound is; it was sitting in the air around me.
It's one thing to be told that i play bass in a very individual way
It's another thing entirely to have that fact presented to you once you are out of the creative sphere you go into when you're laying something down.

So it did make me a little sad when Ian said that we had to overwrite that bass line.
He was right though, it was too much of a choppy and complex bass line for what he had already recorded. So now the bass line on that track is far simpler and root note oriented.

But it is still tantalizing to know that i had just peaked into my own world while i was outside of it... Fuck, all i want to do now is record everything.

Well, Since You Asked

How does Ben Gibbard feel?
I think you should read the article i have that he wrote about his life and Narrow Stairs.
But until you do i'll just give you a jist.

He recognizes that he is never content, and severely doubts that he ever will be. He dwells rather heavily on possibilities (which includes all the missed ones) so it's rare for him to not see someplace better than his current one.

He also believes that there will be nothing greater in the world for him than his music and what he's created, as well as the other things he experiences. No love will ever trump the one it has for him and that he has for it (because love is necessarily reciprocal).

You truly do need to read that article.
I'm going to tonight, and i'll throw it your way later.

Fucking U.S. Postal Service

Apparently he has written me.
Something just got screwed up...

My shoulders feel so much lighter.

"Ain't nuthin' we ain't dun before"

This whole situation with Aja... im not sure or not whether it's sad that i've actually become accustomed to such situations... But it's really something that i've been through before; going on 'dates' and letting women into my life that are essentially unavailable... Each time they've come and shared something with me... Petco-Paige, Ray Charles, Kelsie (both Kelsie from Atlanta and the one who was the half sister of Kaleena), Kaycee, Megan Brown... I'm sure i'm missing someone...

I'm just gonna use the situation with Petco-Paige to illustrate what happens

I met Paige in the Petco across the street from IHOP on some random trip to bend with Sean motha fucking Brown and Markus Cater. She did the typical store clerk thing, asked us if we had any questions about stuff, and since i thought she was cute i decided to flirt with her. I told her that the only question i had was how many people came in and tried to eat the dog biscuts that looked like cookies. That question lead to more questions until, finally on my way out, i asked the final question: can i have your number? She wrote it bashfully on a reciept, handed it to me, and i left.
A few days later i called her and asked if she would like to hang out. She agreed, but then later that night confided to me that she wasn't actually looking for a boyfriend; she was already in a complicated situation, and was just looking for another friend. Nonetheless i hung out with her a couple days later.
We went on a walk around Drake Park (fuck, planning dates is so much easier in Bend) after meeting in Bellatazza. On the walk i asked her about her "situation." Apparently the boy she was in love with is in prison for statutory rape. Meanwhile, a close friend of hers really likes her, and she was having what my class would call "an issue of faith."
I'm pretty sure we hung out twice, though the past is kindof like a watercolor that got juice spilled on it for me... And maybe had the situation been different we would have hung out more than that. Either way i ended up adding her on my myspace.
From there we drifted apart and pretty soon stopped talking. I still checked up on her via myspace surveys (those things are a stalker's best friend). It was really weird in some ways... She ended up getting together with her close friend, and she's very happy with him. After seeing her posts had that happy tone in them for a few months i finally deleted her from my friends list. Haha, the irony is that i'm listening to Nas's "If i ruled the world" right now, and if i ruled the world i would keep Paige together with Timmy.
I'm not sure what it is that i feel when i see all these people and their lives... Ray Charles is still working at Townsheds (i think), and when i saw her i smiled; she smiled back. Megan didn't make it to Nationals, but she's going to college in Boston... Pretty good for a girl from Madras...

It really is weird to see all of these girls who knew me doing okay... It's also even more weird to see that in some of the people that i'm with right now... Knowing that in 6 months we won't talk... maybe give them a casual wave, but nothing more really...

Maybe that was what weirded me out so much on my outing with Aja... I kept looking at her and thinking "Damn, you are such a beautiful woman, we have so much to share, and you could mean so much to me. But you won't. In the end (probly about 3 weeks) I will know far much more about you than you will about me, and you will forget me."

Idk, maybe i'll just tell her that next time i hang out with her... It's not exactly like i have anything to lose really...

It's definitely nights like this that i feel much like Ben Gibbard does...

Old Man and the Sea-

was delightfully wonderful (okay seriously, if i wasn't busy trying to stare at that blonde haired girl in the computer lab right now i would think i was gay) to read in between wanks....

haha.
Naw, for real tho; that book be good shit.

If i only had-

A pair of jugs and a charming smile
I could get away with fucking murder.
If i could only charm and wit;
Get boys' boxers to feel more like tightey whiteys
By a devilish flash of a green gaze
I could rob every bank of their newly found bail out money
And no one would bat an eyelash,
Except for me of course.
And with that bat of an eyelash
That warm smile that seems to say
"I am so glad I met you,
And I would like to know you
More intimately,"
I could make any person forget loyalties and blood ties.
And with a smackling of sex appeal thrown in the mix
So that i was something to be caught out of the corner of a lonely eye,
I honestly do believe that i
Could commit a most heinous crime
And few would bother to care.
But of all the small crimes that men let
Attractive
Charming
Lovely
Young women get away with
I cannot conceive one more despicable
Than letting them write nonsensical droll,
And then complimenting them when they call it poetry.

You're all gonna Drown

of course, this could just be a...............................
I'm sorry, i cant'stop from tapping the period key...........
what i meant to say is irrelevant anyway...............

Why is it that (when i fell into what my body obviously thinks was a late night napppppppp, hahaa fuck you, i felt like i had a major serotonin release.......... that weird feeling in my right fooooot...) i'm not looking (seeing being living feeling fucking loving shoving) at what those....se....se....se...

hahahahahahaha..........ha.....
It's all a fucking joke apparentlyyyyyyyyyyyy... Being devoured is so painlessssssssssss

Liebestraum (3), Notturnos for Piano

Do you smell that? Probly not, but i smell motor oil... And it just... Is amazing

Today was a fulfilling day.
Ran into Aja at lunch and made plans for tomorrow (szzzzz at 4!)
Then went and changed the oil in El Tigre, which was far more trouble than it should have been. for one thing, the faggot behind the counter sold me a 12mm wrench for the oil plug when it was really a 15mm... so i had to run back to autozone and buy a new wrench; new i should have checked it when i bought the 12mm one... But my Fiero is too low to the ground to crawl under normally, so to solve the problem we (ian and i) had to drive it up onto the curb to get it high enough. Then once i drained the oil i had to try and find the goddamn oil filter... fuggin thing was hidden under the alternator with hardly anyway to get my hand to it.
All and all i managed to get it all done. I just set all the used oil on top of a dumpster... Rad services will figure out what to do with it.
Then went and did a decent workout with Ian; threw the frisbee after we were done.
now im fresh out of a shower...

I have a little oil spill on my pantlegs... i really like it though... They smell greasy, and i like it. It's such a unique smell at evergreen; a touch of modernization and realism among all these romantic notions. Today i feel like i actually did something that was real. There was this moment after Ian and i threw the frisbee where he said something about how he wishes we could go back to being hunter gatherers... My take on it is slightly more Jeffersonian, but to some extent i agree, but that's beside the point... The point is that today i did something average. I did something that is necessary for the living conditions that actually exist, not the living conditions that we wish we have... And i feel that that's something that Evergreen lacks... We talk about all these more ethereal ideas, and often at the end of class i find myself saying, "Well, it's amazing that we can rationalize the need for morality, but what does all this shit mean to someone who's actually stuggling to make ends meet?" All these ideas are great, but you can't simply ignore what is really going on out there...

Today I got my hands dirty, something i will never forget the value of.

Huurrruurururur

Why is it that the thought of musicians in the studio recording things weirds me out?
i dont know if i an really clarify this thought... it's just weird to think of artists as people with actual lives and needs to me... but it's necessary at the same time... idk

Relaxation

So my plans for tonight fell through; i figured they might when Aja told me earlier this week that she thought she was getting sick... Yet, for some reason i was really hit hard when i called her and she asked to re-schedule. I guess it might just be due to how much hope i've put into the 'idea' of her... And i know that i shouldn't worry, this morning when i ran into her she seemed excited to see me... And so i think we will hang out, it's just that i definitely didn't like putting so much stock into this, only to have it fall through...

But tonight, thanks to Angel's advice, im gonna relax... i bought all the other Eminem albums that i dont have, so i have some semi-new music to listen to... right now his first LP is spinning; forgot how raw it is... but anyway...

Hopefully monday goes far better than this day did.

As Piglet Would Say, "Oh D-D-D-Dear"

I really do be needing to get to sleep; sure that it won't actually happen however.
This week... last couple days really, have just been overwhelming in a sense i guess...
And the whole matter is sketch, so im not sure really where to begin with disection, but i figure i'll just start with the stuff that i'm not too excited about, and then finish with the stuff that i am

So firstly: this world is both bigger and smaller than i thought...
this is something i realized when the whole talk yesterday with trevor about him discovering that i had a blog... yikes... (what the fuck, am i a 5th grader?) i ultimately ended up giving him my url when he asked about it... and then semi-yelling at alex for letting it slip that this fucking site existed... so i guess i need to clarify a lot...
It's not so much that i don't want people to read what is here... the only reason (that i can concieve to myself that makes any rational sense) that i write is so that i can be some kind of a becon; a lighthouse to help others avoid rocks, a catcher in the rye... so i really do want people to read this stuff...
but... when it's people who know i exist, but don't fully know me yet... things get tricky...
after i gave trevor my url i went and sat back down at a computer in the comp lab, and a few minutes later trevor came up to me and said something to me that sounded like, "i just want you to know that i came here for other reasons as well."
at first i thought this meant that he hadn't come to the computer lab to actually get my blog, and i thought this because im sure Kelsey became uber distracted... but looking at what he said in hindsight, i think that he might have been refering to his reasons for coming to evergreen... this is because Kelsey magically stopped on my post that talked about trevor's blog, so i kindof mentioned that i talked about his blog in that post as i walked away... now i realize that he might have read that post completely wrong...
my reason for bringing up his blog wasn't so that i could diss him as a person (hopefully i didn't sound like i was... i don't remember saying anything bad, but my memory...) i enjoy trevor quite a lot in reality... sure he may be awkward at times, but he's definitely enjoyable... but i guess he could have taken that post to mean that i hate his views on this school or something of the sort...
which is completely the wrong way to look at the stuff that is on this...
anybody i talk about, with the exception of sean and paige at this point,
is really just a point of comparison for me to figure out who i am... i really dont give a fuck about what anyone's views are on mundane things and the more tedious aspects of life... that stuff is for the birds... when i mention someone it's either because im pointing out the ways in which i differ from them, or the ways which i suprisingly am similar...
and then when i talked to alex about all this she asked me whether or not i read Cait and Charlie's blogs... i didn't actually know that they had them until then; i had my suspicions but didn't actually bother to pursue my ideas... then alex offhandedly mentioned that Charlie apparently reads mine (dear god this is the most boring fucking shit in the world)...
anyway
long story short... i didn't know i was so popular. if it's chill with you charlie i'm gonna start reading yours, lemme know if that's a problem.

and the big issue behind all of this is vulnerability...
i understand that i'm not exactly the most descriptive and open person there is, but i do know those who i can be open with i tend to be quite open with... i'm not afraid of talking with people about my issues, but please ensure that the discussion takes place in a closed environment... dont bring up anything personal about me in areas where people are familiar with me but don't know me.
normally this wouldn't be such an issue... it's just that all my class (at least Rita) seems to be concerned with is 'putting one's self in a state of vulnerability in order to reach new understandings' which is honestly something i can vouch for, at times that is.
however, vulnerability is helpful, but humans cannont endure prolonged vulnerability.
so lemme just put shit like this
i already feel pretty fucking vulnerable, i.e. i don't have too many places where i feel i can shelter myself in.
dont push me too much more.


Fuck... i wasted too much time on that shit, now im tired as fuck
and all i have to say is that i'm super exited tomorrow... so excited that i'm describing my level of excitement with slack-jawed faggot words like 'super'
i don't remember ever putting this much work into being prepared for a first impression...

Consumer Whore

Both Products, Olde English '800's and Malboro's Mentholated Cigarettes, would like to announce that their products give a 100% confidence boost to their users in issues that regard the object of the user's desire...

So it's possible that it could be either one of those products talking, but i'm pretty sure that while i may not have a good comprehension of time passing i do know that i was given a thumbs up...
Lemme break it down for all y'all.

I felt like a smoke break. So i went out to my car to use it's lighter, and dragged down a Marlboro Menthol (this is after downing the 40)... On my way back to the dorms, guess who i happen to see: if you guess Aja then you are absolutely correct!
Long story short, she was lighting up a cig of her own (dammit, i should have asked to borrow the lighter and spend some time with her!) and as she did i asked her something along the lines of 'hey, what's up?' (against my inner urges to say something stupid like 'how's it hangin playa?'... probly for the best)
she replied with a beautiful jump/hand motion/excited look, and said to me "so i found out that i don't have class all this week"

and now that i think of it, what i said wasn't really important... the conversation went something like her saying that she thought she was sounding like an old woman (oh, but she sounded cute as ever) due to her being sick, and that smoking probly wasn't helping. to both of those comments i simply replied a "psh" (probly coulda said more... ah well) and then the conversation got around to the fact that i still wanted to chill with her, and that i would text her tomorrow to see what's up

um... so yea, what im really excited about is her initial reaction to seeing me... it was everything i could hope for i guess... and then i talked to Charley about music...

Good end to a long day
Can't wait to text Aja tomorrow
GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

MMMMMMMMM

Mmmmm...
"The Nightingale and the Rose" is delicious.
As is the Eminem interview i just listened to.
But more so Nightingale.

Not as Diverse as i Pretend...

i scoffed (inside my head of course) when i heard Abbey realize (when was it... two weeks ago?) that "Into the Ocean" by Blue October was about suicide... It was just weird because she had said that that song was one of her favorites, and it truly is a rather upfront song about it...

I know it's kindof a tangental thing from my last post 30 min ago, but a few things happened since then...

As a kindof distraction from... not sleeping, but the process of getting there, i visited Trevor's blog site; he just told me about it today. It was surreal... in the way that goosebumps rose up on the crown of my head, and when i just thought about it i shivered/twitched... He's so... Not happy entirely, but satisfied and engrossed with life. I read the post he put up about the art walk, and he had an entirely different perspective on it than i did... I read something else about what he did for his cultivating voice class, something about teacher-student relationships (not like that you pervert) and how the relationship should be something reciprocal. This statement i honestly agree with; teachers should know their students and be able to critique them in healthy, collabrative ways. But then Trevor adds something about how this idea is the reason why he came to Evergreen. And while i will give Evergreen credit for having, what i can only assume due to not actually attending other colleges, more adaptive educators and whatnot, all i honestly see are a bunch of students who whine whenever someone with an actual degree in the subject matter trys to direct discussions towards valid topics and thoughts.

Around this time my Sia album ended and i had to choose another album to listen to for a short while... I ended up choosing Sia originally because i was trying to find something a little on the happier side to try to keep the joy from getting Aja's number riding. While flipping through all my options i stirred up my understanding that Sia isn't really a happy artist, (her album is called "Some People Have Real Problems" for christ's sake!) she is just more somber and pensive... I started flipping through all the artists on my mp3 player which stirred up the realization that i really don't have that much music that is happier in nature... I ended up choosing Blue October for the few happy songs that actually exist on that album, but the i hit "Into the Ocean," and the combination of Abbey's realization, Trevor's blog, the post secret post a few weeks back that said something to the extent of "now that im happier i don't read postsecret nearly as much as i did when i was depressed," made me need something happier... Right now Stadium Arcadium is on rotation, and RHCP, along with a couple Postal Service and Death Cab songs, are really the only "Happy" music that i have...

I don't really know where i'm going with this
it's not that i have an aversion to happier music
it's just that typically im never in a mood that syncs up quite right with that style
it's also never really the type of music you listen to alone, (at least in my perception) and music is typically a very private thing for me.
plus, being happy and alone is quite more pathetic than being depressed and alone if you ask me.

I guess overall tonight serves as a reminder that a lot of the times i'm alone in the feelings i have for certain circumstances... a thought that was really pushed into my mind when on that night at anderson's dad's house *shudder* when i slurred the question "do you ever wonder where all those cars are going?"
and while i would love to say that getting a life that i have actually created under my feet will make my current overall mood obselete, i sincerely have my doubts... this fact is the reason why i'm angry that they cut down on the story between Anthony and Johanna in the film production of Sweeny Todd... the most prevailent theme of that play is the contrast between the past, present, and future; how things were never quite how we remembered them, and can never match what we want them to be... cutting the story between those two seriously dampened that message...

And also
there is nothing mature or educated about saying that a struggle defines and strengthens the thing undergoing the struggle... that is just obvious information, and in reality is only half of the equation. the full matter is that when something encounters a struggle, it either conquers the struggle and emerges stronger and victorious, or it falls to the struggle and perishes due to it's weaknesses and imperfections.
in plain english: when shit gets hard you either get over it and get on with it, or you fall prisoner to it and let it kill you.
so when a stupid motherfucker comes up to you and says something dumb like "global warming/the recession/AIDS/racism/nuclear disarmment ect... will be a defining struggle for mankind," please reply to them "no shit, sherlock. it's either that or we all die out."
every day is a "defining struggle;" big whoop.
besides, as Albert Camus says in The Plague, "stupidity has a knack for surviving."
So i don't think you really have too much to worry about.

Throwin up 7

...well technically it's nine due to area codes and whatnot.
but at least it's continued forward progress, regardless of the fact that catchy slogans don't quite apply.
which is thankfully contrary to my dream last night... or was it?
i'm not really sure
all i know is i had a dream about Asia (/Aja?... pretty sure this is it; she did say it was a weird spelling, and this is the same way Alex's Aja spells it... unless it's like Ashia... or Ayesha... hm, definite convo starter next time around) last night that was similar to a lot of my dreams... sortof...
the thing that remained consistant with my other dreams was the overall sense of looking for someone/something, only this time it was Aja.
then once i found her we went on a date around Oly, and it was honestly just.. frustrating... pretty sure it had something to do with the scene in 28 days later when the dude kisses the black girl, then she kisses him back, make it seem like she wants some, and then angrily walks out the door. the reason my dream was frustrating was because in it Aja was being a tease of sorts... we would be walking along really vibing on eachother, then she turned to kiss me, got close enough to where i could feel her hair against my face, and then she pulled away with a devilish smile; we would then continue walking...

there's a Borges writing (Ragnarok) about how Coleridge stated that "in dreams images represent the sensatinswe think they cause: we do not feel horror because we are threatened by a sphinx; we dream of a sphinx in order to explain the horror we feel."

opperating along this line of thought my dream makes sense quite considerably.
the constant searching is representative of my own searching of loss
and the whole issue with Aja
is my frustration of feeling instantly closer to her anytime i make contact or progress towards some form of relationship with her,
but then the following days, when nothing else procedes, i feel so much farther away than i have before...
and after Thursday when i confessed to her
she didn't give any further response i felt that frustration expressed through my dream
which was only to be leveled out by the joy today of her giving me her number
which im sure will be alleviated by not seeing her due to her schedule
But she said that she doesn't have class Thursday, so coffee in the afternoon will be possible
maybe
if she has time in her schedule
and also if, would to God, she's actually interested in me

and so what does Nygil the Pessimist think?
outset looks fucking bleak... (it's like a catch phrase or something!)
but should she actually give me a chance to hang out and get to know her
i'm more than willing to fight tooth and nail to find a spot in both her schedule and heart

Not sleeping party anyone?

we can go get a fifth of something hard and do 90 down I-5

definitely shouldn't have been reading "Catcher in the Rye" before the art walk...

but a few things i...

fuck it.
nevermind

On Phones

I talked to Valerie last night... first time i've gotten a window into what's going on in his life... she's heard from him on phone calls a few times, and he wrote her a few times as well... i hope that the reason i haven't gotten the same reception is because he's busy... i mean i don't expect a flurry of letters or anything... but something by now would have been nice... i got to hear a little bit about what he's going through in basic, and how he kicked ass when he took the swimming rescue test... i laughed at that... It was good to talk to Val tho, and im still going to check my mail box every(err)day... God i miss that man...

Talked to paige today... Haha, she knew what was up as soon as i told her "guess what!" She's perceptive that one... But i mean... It's the best god damn thing that's happened to me since i've gotten here i think...

It was even cute how taken back she was when i was telling her that she was cute... haha...
The whole time she just kept asking me what she thought she should get for breakfast (ha, breakfast at 2 in the afternoon... fucking college) and i just wanted to scream at her that i didn't really care if she ate termites, i had something important to tell her by God!!! and so by the frozen foods i exposed myself (oh god not like that tho!), and for one of the first times in my life i felt glad that i did... It wasn't a crazy romantic moment, but it was definitely touching i think... (i was just confused that some cheesy-inde-rock song didn't start playing when i talked... (real life needs a sound track!) but her smile... ah god!!
i have a feeling i could talk about that moment all night if i allowed myself...

but it's just funny because when i was talking to paige she mentioned how im one of the true hopeless romantics, in that i really am hopeless... and it's true in every sense... and i really could go on forever about this (that's just the Gomer in me tho)... but i mean...

I'm so nervous about this... and i mean... i even told her so; told her how when i see her i feel as nervous as a 6th grader talking to a girl (what the hell? seriously now, absolutely hopeless!!!)... but it's a good thing... because she's the first girl who's really made me feel like that since 6th grade... so i figure she is at least worth knowing due to that aspect... and should things even progress to a point where i can actually keep myself exposed with her... i practically bristle at the fucking thought... i'm just nervous in general

but it's the nervousness that accompanies (the ride on the huge roller coaster with Sean... you fucking crazy ass bastard!!!) taking any kind of risk that significantly changes things... it's not like with Stephanie where i felt completely opposed to the ideas of relationships... it's where i don't know how things could turn out, but the result will be worth the process... it's the feeling i get before i get on stage... so while i'm nervous, i'm also excited.

haha... i'm listening to "Hump de Bump" right now in the computer lab, and i just wanna get on a fucking table and dance like a freak!!!
im just...
bristling...

and i feel
that while tonight im still going to have trouble sleeping
i will have something foreign, beautiful, and special to hold onto.
something that for the first time in a long time
has made me want to be stupid, crazy, and weird me

I am so happy i was late to class today.

What in the Hell

I feel like a whore...
well... probly not as much of one as that girl bouncing on the ball in the computer lab right now... if she could only realize what that looks like...

anyway... filled out a survey that this one woman handed me... about the stress in my life due to college or some shit... i just know that she said i would get $5 if i did it, so i was like "shit yea, i'll do your damn survey!"

then while im taking it the damn thing asks me if i've ever felt suicidal/hopeless/like hurting myself... and it gives me some scale as to how much those thoughts affected my stress level or something like that... and if the lady hadn't said that the survey was confidential i probly would have thrown it in her face by then (she was already having bias in her sampling because she wasn't randomly choosing people... fucking statistics...) but instead i kept going; eager to get out of the cold and be $5 richer...

but when i handed the completed survey back to her... and she in return handed me an envelope... i felt so dirty... i wanted to take the survey back and rip it up...
im not sure what it is... i think it might be that for $5 i answered questions that i probly wouldn't have answered if people from my dorm asked them to me...
but that explanation isn't quite the full one...

either way, all i can think of now is Lincoln's grubby face sitting in my wallet that would be empty if it weren't for a few meaningless cards and papers...

...what the fuck am i going to do with $5 anyway?
Cigarettes are $8 here! Plus Tax!!

Fuck Your Thespian Club

I acted again for the first time in years... forgot how much i enjoyed it...
i don't know any of my lines yet, and im supposed to know them all by friday next week...
so i was just reading from someone elses book; my head down the whole time... and this was just supposed to be a read through to get the general blocking down...
but the troupes before me seemed to be trying to actually act, so i figured i would as well...
(plus, you know me, only thing worth doing half-assed is nothing)
and so i plunged into it, reading it exactly as i thought someone would in Oedipus's shoes...

i didn't know how well i did until after i exited the stage, sat down, and listened to the moments of silence that everyone was partaking in... Andrew (class instructor) stood up after the silence, cleared his throat, and said something along the lines of "Well, leaving aside the startling embodiment of Oedipus, does anyone have any thoughts or suggestions?"
and, me being cocky ole me, i expected to have good things said about my part... but i just didn't expect the serious silence that i put people in... after Andrew asked for suggestions i just started laughing really hard... everyone was just in this state of "what the fuck was that?" and i could only imagine how changed everyone's conceptions of me were after that... i mean hardly speak to anyone in the class, there's always at least 4-5 empty chairs between me and the next person, and before i get on stage im supposed to make an offstage noise of pain, so i make this stupid joke noise... and then once i get onstage im suddenly this screaming ball of anguish, fury, acceptance, dishonor, and repentance...
god what i would have given to hear what went through people's heads on that one... i was laughing so damn hard afterward at the thought of it... and i just kept asking if my character could have a big stick...

yea, i realize how self-centered and vain this probly sounds...
but it's been a long time since i've gotten a "wow, you really knocked that one's socks off" type response from people...
and after not acting for... 5 years?
for me to just leave people speechless...

God im so damn excited for opening night... and that's still at least 5 weeks away...

but at the same time...
5 weeks is too short for anything... Even if i was fucking noticable...
Even if i was everything i would have to be...
there's no room to actually get anything off of the ground, and who would honestly make a committment in such short remaining time?
after all, the grand rule is to make no plans that are farther ahead in time than how long you've already spent... 5 weeks does not equal the whole summer... so even if tomorrow
there's a new message (god i could only fucking wish!)
it wouldn't equal a pile of shit...

My Empire of Dirt

With all the time that i have spent...

"Truth" by Grynch is just sitting on repeat... it's really the only thing that i want to hear right now...

Come with me, I will be
Painlessly devoured
Don't mind me, it is the same
even to make me somber

they're the most real of any of the local bands i know for some reason... Daryl, their guitar player, posts bulletins about how he needs a job, and would be willing to work for anyone who needs it... and they just announced that they had to cancel almost all of their shows...

my hair is straight... pretty far past my shoulders...

and i've thrown the situation out of my hands...

...I don't want this anymore...

Bad Tracks...

Glad to know that my mp3 player is now finding it convenient to slowly erase data or something...

On another note...
Trying to glide through "Dream Tigers" so that i am covered with only the finest silt
as opposed to clamouring through it just to cover myself with dirt...
hard to resist though
so much to be found

Grumble Grumble...

Rejoining the human race is weird...

Hopefully i have enough courage to confront that Eastern Continent problem i have going...

Get your fucking money duffle bag boi

what the fucking shit...
between being torn between wanting to hear fucking Lil Wayne, The Ghost Inside, and Chopin all at the same time...
fuck you and your gay ass music... so why the fuck am i listening to it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(because it's really just the undercurrent of you wondering "where the fuck did i disappear to?")
so i can't listen to that shit because it's too fucking stupid
can't listen to Chopin because it's too stuck in repose (that and Mozart sounds like he has a huge fucking boner his whole life... i would too if i had that much of a fucking brain though)
cant listen to The Ghost Inside because it's too unhopeful... the only thing i want to listen to is that fucking Ysaye song on repeat: Sonata for a Violin solo No. 2 "Obsession."
but fuck dizzler for not being able to cope with classic music
fuck pandora for not being able to play songs on repeat...
fuck music for expressing
fuck silence for lacking
fuck me for clustering
fuck this week for not presenting an opportuinty
fuck myself for pissing them away...

you know what, if you're reading this, fuck you too.
go and do something with your fucking life, im sure you have better things to do.
Eat a dick

My Polyamorous Friend

you figure it out

We're talkin' OLD school gangsta here

Just a few good ones from Socrates. Enjoy!

"Human wisdom has little or no value."
"Gentlemen, I am your very grateful and devoted servant, but I owe a greater obidience to God than you."
"Wealth does not bring goodness, but goodness brings wealth and every other blessing, both to the individual and the State."
"The true champion of justice, if he intends to survive even for a short time, must necessarily confine himself to private life and leave politics alone."
"But I suggest, gentlemen, that the difficulty is not so much to escape death; the real difficulty is to escape from wickedness, which is far more fleet of foot."
"If you expect to stop denunciation of your wrong way of life by putting people to death, there is something amiss with your reasoning."
"Death is one of two things. Either it is annihilation, and the dead have no consciousness of anything; or, as we are told, it is really a change; a migration of the soul from this place to another."

"Well, now it is time to be off, I to die and you to live; but which of us has the happier prospect is unknown to anyone but God."

Elbow Holes-

-in that gray striped sweater that Shawn loves (i wonder if she still reads this... also wondering if she's doing good... yesterday's texts made me feel uneasy)... and im not sure how i feel about them... on the one hand it goes to show how long i've had this sweater, how much it and i have been through... and it still smells like me on the rare occasion where i can actually smell myself... it's kindof narcissitic, but i really do think i smell good in this sweater...
on the other the holes mean that it's getting to the point where i may not be able to wear it anymore... there's definitely a difference in the thickness in the fabric around my elbows where i've worn the fabric down... my cuffs are also just hanging on for dear life... i dont think this sweater will make it to next december...
but another reason im just diggin the holes, the wear and tear of my fav sweater is it just makes me feel like a straight up thug... i caught my reflection in a window as i was walking to the computer lab... my headphones were blaring Bone Thugs 'n Harmony (The Art of War is one of the most fucking straight up thug albums of all time) and the gait of my step fell in time with the music, my cargo jeans hangin loose, and my crotch belt swung, my hair bounces long on my shoulders... and my old sweater fit my frame so nice, holes and all... i felt hardcore, i looked hardcore... i dug it... haha it's probly one of the gayest things i could say..

Now im just settin down to write my 3-5 pg paper on an aspect of faith... probly gonna be about the role of "spiritual leaders" in helping one develop individual faith... Cuz im kinda with Keirkegaard on this one; faith is something that no one can be taught or lead to.
All the while Bone Thugs gonna be blasting about the faith in a gun.
Thug Luv baby.

Bring the Bodies Out

It's really almost like an evolution in itself... my music for the past three days has changed from Grynch singing/screaming How can i truly forgive you when i can't let this go? and Die because you are already so dead to me to Breaking Benjamin asking Would you want to feel the way that i do? and Chevelle pondering whether it would be better To care or plead silent. Then it was up to Tentareign to bring out (I feel the weakness calling) Dissolve your anger or use it, (And still the weakness haunts me) You've got a voice to chose it. This afternoon a slight change seemed to be in order, so i went with Puscifer while i was burning today... I want to bold and italics everything in "Momma Sed," but i guess it would just be the same as emphasising nothing... But it really was... surreal to sit in the field and watch people walk around while this song became my reality. I even went as far as hearing the guitar say You've got to let this all go whenever this little guitar riff pops in.

wake up son of mine
momma got something to tell you
changes come
life will have its way
with your pride, son
take it like a man
hang on son of mine
a storm is blowing up your horizon

changes come
keep your dignity
take the high road
take it like a man

listen up son of mine
momma got something to tell you
all about growing pains
life will pound away
where the light don't shine, son
take it like a man
suck it up son of mine
thunder blowin' up your horizon

changes come (changes come)
keep your dignity (keep your dignity)
take the high road (take the high road)
take it like a man (take it like a man)

momma said like the rain (this too shall pass)
like a kidney stone (this too shall pass)
it's just a broken heart, son
this pain will pass away

and it really just is the way that... i want things to fall? im not sure yet... but it's a clear demonstration of where my feelings in this whole matter are headed, now it's just a case of whether or not i am just plagued by (semi) wishful thinking.

on a side matter: last night i promised myself that i would take a chance by sunday.
here's to that.

Throwing Up

haha well fuck


what more could one wrist scar really matter?

On Repeat

Someone smart would have gone to bed at least an hour ago...
someone smart wouldn't have gone doughnutting
someone smart wouldn't have gazed too long at a certain brand name of family movies
someone smart wouldn't have thought of reminders
someone smart wouldn't have immediately jumped to continue conversation
someone smart wouldn't have become 'that guy'
someone smart wouldn't have let opportunities pass by on today's cookie and coffee chance
someone smart would have been more smooth and gotten digits

someone smart wouldn't have put a song on repeat
someone smart won't think the same thoughts and not sleep

lucky bastard

Guns and Sluts

"Pistol Grip Pump on my lap at all times"

gimme dat

I've always thought that well thought out, meticulous machinations were the tell tale signs of psychopaths...

So i guess the big questions here are: What does that make this? And what does it make me?

Some 'Ol Pussy Ass Bitch Shit.

My car's broken down... So it's going to be an interesting quest to get back up to my school... haha...

I just wish Sean was here... Things wouldn't seem nearly as bad...

In the Mail

That email i said i would send has gone out.

I'll be online tonight (at seans house so i'll probly have the capability to IM) if you want to talk

Shattered Reality In My Hands

If only things actually worked like that... if only the things that people say mattered actually did... but experience tells me otherwise (and this is going on how many fucking years now?) and i just happen to know better by now... i could wait the fucking world over and have nothing more to show for it than an eternity of wasted fucking life... god... Imogean Heap puts it so simply right now... just minus the anger involved in my side of it... i really do appreciate you trying to tell me otherwise kelsie... i mean fuck, i used to think those attributes actually mattered too... but i soon learned better... cuz in this wonderful world it's never how good you are... it's who you fucking know, and who you can get to scream your name... fuck... i hate childish notions of the world because that isnt the way things work... but at the same time they seem to be the way that things should be... but humans will be fucking humans (and our own human emotions will blind us to this fact time after time after fucking time) fuck...

"If love is surrender then whose war is it anyway?"

Well put Immi... god... im so fucking worthless

Fucking Diddy Doughnuts

Im not a fucking hero... not a fucking saint or speaker of wisdom.
Yet i have to play one today...

Fucking wonderful. I would rather have a day for myself today

Just Wanna Lay This all out I Guess...

but i dont actually have anytime to right now...

but i'll email you tonight... right here feels to exposed anyway...

"The Caretakers"

"There are no perfect boxes, Mr. Milfred, it's the same with people too."

Ah... Classic...

Just Stopping By... I guess...

god... only a week now... how much it's felt like years... but jesus...
(there's no fucking smoking in the subi!!!!!!!!!!!)
i dont even know what to say... i mean... my shoes...

there are starting to be heavy bags under my eye... and now i think i know better why...
i dont even know what to say though...

now two air fresheners hang from my mirror...
i like to think thats the way he would want it...

Oh Neruda...

How much you must have known... how much you must have felt...

I love you as certain dark things are loved

what did you mean?
i know what i mean: what i serve this mantra as.
but what was its purpose with you?
is it why you died alongside the same breath of Salvador Allende?

Learn me.
Show me...

i felt about you wanting to kill nuns with single blows to the head
oh the sickness of it all. a sickness you knew; breathed right alongside of it until it breathed you away.
how else could you know the worker, the slave to his duty and society that erected things that we today still marvel upon.
did you feel their blood trickle across your hands?
or was it the whips across their backs that you felt on your hands, spurning them on while you leaked your pages?
what was it that chased you on? what did you call it?
i've heard it called long boy; endless piebald sides and mirrored thoughts.
i've heard it called something in the way of things; not invisible, but lurking in the shadows
i've heard it called in the screaming: "the woods are burning"
your certain things... certain dark things.
how were they revealed to you?
what voice did they speak?

Learn me.

Familiar Face

Ah... good to see you've returned. Though, that's not exactly correct, is it? You've been here the whole while; your strength simply wasn't what it once was. But now you're back to being so strong, so deep, and so pure. That's fine though, i'm just not sure what to do with myself now that you're sleeping beside me again. Afterall your restless movements keep me up all throughout the night until my skin crawls, and there's nothing i can do about that except for (shush for now) but it's not like that really even stops it. And with every move i make the knife in my gut twists... Can you feel me leaking out? I'm sure you can. I'm sure you enjoy it. I would lie if i said otherwise for myself. Or is that just the part of me that you have loved and nurtured? Does a subtle tone of screaming lie beneath the luminous moans? Oh dear, my head grows heavy again... But at least right now things seem to be the right distance away. It could be worse. Like when the chicken was being cut... Haha remember that?
Yes, there it is again. Some undertone. Like a constant bell. Falling. Damn. Will nothing blanket, muffle, this. No... That is not what time will do. Time will only blunt and rust. Like me, blunt and rusty. Oh, but there is so much of it. Time that is. Soooo much. Like an ocean of seconds that will never pass. Only the word for it is Gomer.

Another Great Fisher

The Duality:
Sam Clemens-Mark Twain...
there's nothing i can do to describe what im feeling now as this documentary bellows on in its whisper...
His humility, and his ego... his shambles and his riches...
I really do feel speechless with awe; in silence i shall pay my homage

To Clarify...

Damn Scrubs...
it's stupid how deep that show goes sometimes...

But it made me see something... and I guess I'm willing to try it...
Hopefully it changes stuff for both of us...

Fuck

I honestly don't know what the hell I am doing anymore...
I guess though truly that's not that big of a change from my norm anyway...

3 cheers for constant disorientation

You Can't Unbury the Dead

thats something that will never change...
but what you can do is look back upon the life lived, and if you dig enough you just might find some new lesson being taught or one that was left behind... because it's honestly not really what a person didn't do that matters when they fade; it's everything they touched and created.

i was reading through things i had written... I came across a post where i quoted "Love is a Mix Tape" and i realized something.
I know why it's so important to me to let her know that i dont care about her little failures.

Oh yea one more thing

Haha guess what!

apparently i still have a hold on my account so i'm not gonna be able to register for the class i want tomorrow!
isn't that exciting?
someone's gonna fucking die! =)

Oh Fryderyck...

I'm pretty sure im done with everything i need to be on my research design paper...
yet i dont want to move from the chair im sitting in in the computer lab; i have Chopin blasting through Cait's headphones and it's too much to leave...
of course i realize the oxymoron of saying that i'm blasting Chopin...

It really is too much to just leave.

Of Course

even with all these things that push me and pull me out it doesnt mean too much to my sleeping...
fuck... and to think that in 8 hours im suppposed to be working out...
Probly gonna end up reading Shakespear for at least another half hour...
Good luck to me

Cherished Pet Names, Hidden Phone Calls, and Longing Daydreams

That's how i got through today...
it wasn't that it was a hard day at all... actually quite productive
but the last couple days ive noticed that my ridiculous sense of humor comes back more... when i was drinking coffee at dinner yesterday i dont think i could stop laughing... and today when i was weightlifting with ian i was saying things that i normally say around Gus, Anders, and Babycakes... and while at first i just want to write it off as me becoming more accustomed to this life, that really isn't it... more on that in a second.

first something about the life here...
im not sure if it's something that's special to evergreen, or just to college itself, but the faculty (that's something that still gets me... they're "faculty," not teachers) just seems so much more... personal... weeks ago i asked my seminar teacher about books to look into that could help compare the lives of the impoverished in the past with today's poorer people... she's been reminding me that she was working on a list for a couple weeks now, and just tonight when i checked my email there was a message from her with a list of 6 books she thought could work... and then a non-academic side note about Augusten Burroughs and David Sedaris... the email made the hair on my head stand up, and just thinking about it still brings that feeling up... its just so weird... and on the field trips i always found a reason to talk to ralph about normal everyday stuff... the only teachers i really had any such relationship like this with were Mr. Testerman, Mr. Goodall, and Mr. A... i found myself replying to jennifer (first names! Crazy right?), but i still feel awkward about it... that feeling will pass im sure, it's just really weird to have this more intimate relationship between teachers and students...
still doesnt change the fact im not showing up to the damn potluck on thursday

anyway... so back to everything else.
as of lately im finding it easier to do everything... i actually had the motivation to go talk to the people in student services about their fuck-ups just to clarify what was going on (hopefully i'll be able to register for classes on thursday... if i cant someone's going to die)... i found myself wanting to go work out... i just feel so much more here, you know?
And i'm very sure i know why...
i actually have all these little things that i look forward to in a day... i mean fuck, i would have been happy with our lil ten minute call when you got out of class, but when you called me before your practice i was... gleeful i guess would be the best word...
and i don't know where i really was going with all of this... but i guess this is just my way of pointing out that while im sure i've helped you through quite a lot of your days, you're also helping me through mine up here. and so i want to say thanks
but more than that i want to hug you so hard that you cant breathe for a couple seconds...
anyway... you're in bed... haha you're so adorable when you get tired... but i should probly go to sleep myself...

I'll sneak in a call to you tomorrow as well

I Think One of the Most

depressing things i've ever seen is a band website that hasn't updated since before a new album was supposed to come out in 2006...

I Feel Your Return

feel it just as vividly as your absence
and i've even got the marks to prove it
how many times have we done this before?
you leave me just long enough to let me think you'll never return
yet then you always come right back
and you think by now i would be accustomed to your ways
to not let you catch me by suprise
but despite the fact i know these cycles
their repetition never fails to startle my being
just as your form never fails to blend with mine
soon i wont even know the difference again;
we will be two as though things had never changed
i'll embrace your presence
give myself wholly to your whim
integrate being and recover my dependence
and like you have before, you will let me believe that i am in charge
that i have command over this
raise my confidence; bestow me with competence
only to tear down all you have brought to me
and burn all remnants of your presence so that i think of you
as only a hallucinated memory;
delusions of your lucidity and existence
i know exactly where your materializing hand will lead me-
right back into my despair
still i will take it in mine;
coalesce our figures and render myself vulnerable
because only your presence and your absence can define my being

Honorable Mention

despite not feeling inspired myself i managed to make someone else make more words...
its an interesting feeling to have...

but i wonder if i might have cut myself off

It's a Certain Type of Crazy

I broke my key to my car... which is a blessing in disguise because although i would have gladly given abbey a ride to her cousin's house, and i still would if i could... but i didn't want to stay like she invited me to. granted she probly would have let me come back here, but i still didn't want any part of whatever would have gone down there... because, well...

when i got up this morning i was so tired i felt sick... i still kindof do, haven't eaten too much all day... but i will still stay up late talking if i can, and if not i guess i'll just try to recover as much lost sleep as possible...

i must be crazy

And the Train of Stupid Rolls On

In seminar the other kids get into a discussion about t.v. and its evils
first there was talk about how people from other cultures get confused as to how americans actually act when they watch american reality t.v. shows and other stupid shit like that...
(i wanted to tell them that this point wasn't a discredit to t.v. in general, just the stupid shit that is put on it 90% of the time but i figured they wouldn't understand that viewers are responsible for what gets put on the tube... either that or they would understand that point and find some way to blame republicans for it)
then one girl brings up how this speaker at her high school was talking about how he wouldn't let his daughters watch t.v. because they would begin to act like the people on t.v. instead of how he wanted them to...
(right here i was suprised that no one noticed that this was a large form of subjugation)
and from there the convo moved onto hannah montana/miley cirus...
that's the point when the guy to my left mentions how he put a video of him dissing hannah montana on youtube and it got 8,000 hits in the first week...
when this is said everyone in the room quickly proceeds to lose all composure and ask if they can watch the effing video...

now please someone else tell me that you too realize how ridiculous it is that they were talking about the evils of television two minutes ago, and then they all bow down to what is arguably the televison of the future... if you ask me there is far more stupid shit on youtube than there is on television...

i didn't say anything in class though... i really just figured that they wouldn't understand their own folly... i just sat there and shook my head and tried to imagine what it would be like to actually have intellegent seminar discussion the whole way through

Eh, Some Effing Facebook Thing-

-about how you're supposed to list the 25 favorite albums, and how they've affected your life...
Well... First off fuck facebook in it's face; for the lose that one is.
And second off, fuck writing about how they've "affected my life"
here's what im going to do for you though.
I'm going to put down what i think are the best, and most influential albums/bands to my music at this point in my life. if there happens to be some charming story about how they affected my personal life i might include that shit.
and on the off chance i actually manage to get famous for music or writing or some shit and people wanna argue what my influences are this will hopefully settle things. now lets just hope i can decide on an order...

#25) Probably "Detroit Rock City" by Kiss... it's one of the first albums i remember hearing, and arguably the best Kiss album there is... I remember thinking how heavy "God of Thunder" was, and just how it was incredible to me that someone paid people for making music...

#24) "Alive 3" by Kiss again. other than Alive 4 i think this is their best album, and one of the most powerful live albums i have heard... Bruce Kulick(spelling?) was one of the most shredding-est guitarists i knew of...

#23) now we're getting into tough territory... "Pyromania" by Def Leppard something about the way that album sounded and came together... the overall cheesiness of "Photograph" was just perfect...

#22) "Jailbreak" by Thin Lizzy.. the dual guitar solos... the way his voice sounded... just straight up good shit

#21) "Cheshire Cat" by Blink 182... my first band was kinda into blink 182 a lil bit... well, i wasn't so much at the time... but i remember something about the song "M&M's" that made me just go "Wow, I want to write a goofy love song just like that" it marked the first big change in my musical perspective.

#20) "Led Zepplin" by Led Zepplin... John Paul Jones is just a fuckin G when it comes to being a bassist... "Communication Breakdown" is probably one of my favorite Zepplin songs... next to "When the Leevy Breaks," but that's on another album

#19) "Songs in A-Minor" by Alicia Keyes... so far i don't actually have a copy of that... but my sister did, and it was one of the things i always loved to listen to through the walls of my room, even if at that time i wouldn't admit to it. her voice was just so captivating

#18) Good Charlotte's debut album... the best Good Charlotte album by far... goofy and broke, but they didn't give a fuck.

#17) "Carnavas" by the Silversun Pickups... "Lazy Eye" is a sick song, and all throughout that album there is just goodness... i loved the fuzz on the guitar... it sounds so vintage yet modern...

#16) "We Are Not Alone" by Breaking Benjamin... the first time i heard "So Cold" i just about shit myself... Goosebumps glalore.

#15) "Speak for Yourself" by Immogean Heap... her vocals are just flat out amazing, and it is a beautiful electronic and whatever-the-fuck-you-want-to-call-it album

#14) "Californication" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. One of the main albums i remember from being 9... "Scar Tissue" has so much there for me... both then and now still... the album marked John Frusciante's return to the band from his 6 year hiatus or whatever... his playing is so simplistic, but at the same time very there... one of the best marked evolutions in a band.

#13) "White Pony" by the Deftones... its a very sexual album

#12) "10,000 Days" by Tool. new to the tool game, but "The Pot" was the first song i remember hearing of theirs and i had to get it... very amazing.

#11) "Blink 182" by Blink 182... going back to 8th grade days, but honestly it really is one of the best albums there is... very emotionally charged, and many songs revolve around the same chord progression, but not so much in a "we're punk so we only know power chords" type of way but more in an almost tool sort of way where it's "let's see how many ways we can re-use this idea and tweak it into something new"

#10) "The Eminem Show" by Eminem... first rap i actually got into and it just did weird things for me... no real explanation other than everything he said just hit in the right spots... that is, once i got over his shock value

#9) "Blood Sugar Sex Magik" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers... Heard it on tape, and i still dont have it on cd yet... i have every other album by rhcp tho... but the first time i heard it my mind did this weird flop thing... i began to see far more options for what i could do as a bassist from both what Flea and JF were doing... such a good album.

#8) Anything Hendrix... I don't really care too much what album, "Little Wing" and "All Along the Watchtower" are favorites tho.

#7) "Korn" and "Life is Peachy" by Korn... So heavy... so thick and ladden with emotion, and i only put both of them because they honestly deserve to be put in the same breath...

#6) "Aenima" by Tool... I don't really know what to say... it just hits the right spots...

#5) "What Would the Community Think" by Cat Power... Such a large voice with such stripped down instrumentation... it is pure emotion almost... When i bought the album i had this conversation with the guy behind the counter, and we both agreed that we were happier for her now that her life is on track, but her music isn't quite as powerful as it was... i would marry Chan Marshall if i was given the chance.

#4) "The Power Between" by Tentareign... It's actually what im listening to right now... It really is more than being from Bend and being able to rep an amazing band that no one else has heard of (but that does make me a lil proud)... I still remember the first time i heard them play... and Hannah's voice just fucking blew me away... that growl thing she does; what the fuck!??!! they're such a fluidly dynamic band... all of their changes happen so naturally that when they go from metal into soul you aren't suprised at all... I'm really hoping that they make it in the industry, and that they press an acoustic album.

#3) "The Marshall Mathers LP" by Eminem... So raw... i dont know if there is anything more necessary to it...

#2) "Stadium Arcadium" by RHCP... Everytime i listen to that song i can hear something new... there really isn't a way to describe what it has in it... John Frusciante is responsible for just about everything on that album that isn't drums, bass, and Anthony's lyrics... Their time and effort really shines through on it...

#1) "L.D. 50" by Mudvayne... This is my favorite album right now... It has such a beautiful mix of Heavy dissonance and melodic shifting with funk breakdowns amazing straight-up screaming... Lyrically it is choc-full of wonderfully put ways that entail anger, vulnerability, determination, enamoration, disgust, and just feeling in general... the way Chad sings/screams it is more than easy to view/feel his emotions seeping through the ethereal. Seamless transitions between songs and superb mixing make this one of the best albums ever.

Not Even Second Banana

More like a 5th or sixth one maybe...
there's so much that i want to believe; to trust that my wildest conclusions are actually possible and true.
that i did actually see where your eyes went...

but i do believe that i know better.
it's not a surprise, just... idk really.
im used to it anyway.

plus, im also not sure where my expectations lie anyway.
right now im just enjoying zeppelin and bach...

How Much Do You Like the Idea of You Still Breathing?

Fucking piece of shit school
probably couldn't find their fucking mouth in the dark.
I have to write a 5 page fucking paper today... that was the last thing i want to do...
now i have to go down to the financial aid office and tear someone a new one for being ignorant shits...
im looking forward to that, but not to actually having to jump through their fucking hoops

whatever, im out

I Don't

up early due to my phone beeping...
it was in a welcome way though...

yea...
i dont know how much will feel real today

You Pussy Ass Faggot Piece of Shit

What the fuck is wrong with me!?
its not like its actually fucking hard; its a really simple concept really
and yet here at everything i cant even walk in a fucking building
i mean c'mon,
its not like that's even that committed of an action
i didnt have to do anything; just stand there for a few seconds and see what evolves
no fuckin strings attatched
yet there i go again being too much of a fucking faggot for my own good
for the good of me
and who i might be
fucking change my ass... when it all comes down to it you're still the same old panzy ass you've always been

fucking shit's fucked up...
little fucking bitch

A Wise Man-

-Named F. Scott Fitzgerald once said



"No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart."



Amen

The Ocean...

I hope you end up enjoying it as much as i always do

Something to Keep in Mind

it's entirely possible that your moments of clarity
could be nothing more than momentary dellusion
and the reality is that you were in reality the whole time
and through your disgust for the reality you exist in you concocted a lie to soothe yourself

Tipped Over

So much that i can't even think of a fucking way to describe it.
I'm sick of this shit

The Grudge

It's stupid, and it's cliche, but things ultimately end up being what you make them... i would almost promise you that when you look back on this time you'll come to realize that things were both not as bad as they seem, and also worse than they have been at the same time... but i know that doesnt do anything to get you through the present, and that's what truly matters...
and i already told you, there's nothing wrong with not being over someone; we aren't really the one who decides such things... if it worked that way human life would be a lot different...
heh... my senior year wasn't nearly as good as it should have been either...
and we both know you're not a drama queen... not really even close; you're a bit passive and non-confrontational...
so fuck whatever someone else makes you feel like; we both know better.
just be yourself Ang.
and now for the hard part...
if you want to get over him quicker you're going to have to forgive him... now dont think i mean openly apologize to him... i mean come to terms with everything you believe he's done to you, compile it all, and then let that all go.
fighting with someone never lets them know how stupid they have been.
don't stoop to his level on anything.
you are going to have to stop fighting with him. there are times when war is necessary; this isn't one of those times. if you keep fighting with him all you are going to do is create and build more anger within yourself... that isn't necessarily bad either, but at this point in your life i don't think it would help anything...
this is what i mean by breathe...
evaluate and collect
process
and let it all go.

this process isn't an instant cure all... you're going to struggle just like paige and i do... but after a while you'll begin to see that he only has control over the things you let him..
you are still who you were before him; just now you're buried in quite a lot of filth...
dig through out. work at it.
in time you'll breath clear again but still be able to acknowledge how you've fought to be where you are.

here is my further way of throwing you into this...
if you still have the Tool album "Lateralus" burned onto your computer...
listen to that...
dig into it because it really is along this same train of thought...
apply yourself into what Maynard says... make it your life through his words...
interesting things begin to happen.

and remember
i will be there to help you no matter what.

"Not Your Best... Is Everything Okay?"

so insulted.
so much more than your praise could have made me feel
yet... i shouldnt be...
but somehow your words became indignant and ignorant.
really i guess i should give you a reprieve because there is no way for you to know
what is wrong is more than something.
it's as intangible as the lessons you attempt to teach me
cannot be accessed by methods of speech, or communication
except that by which lovers come to comprehend
and that those who breathe finality come to appreciate
your existence leaves you void of this experience

And Also-

feeling...
frustrated for a lack of a more truthful word that actually describes how i feel...

I'm turning everything off now.
Hopefully i get to sleep.

I Explain Some Things

Like Pablo Neruda...
It's just the same as what Bukowski says in "A .45 to pay the rent"

band practice is at a standstill... got me feeling worthless as an artist...
the writers guild still has yet to write back to tell me what they thought of my submission... granted it's only been two days past the deadline... but i submitted my story a week ago... you think someone would have gotten around to evaluate it by now...
idk... i guess im just so used to getting screwed over by people who ask for my work, and then never get back to me as to whether or not they liked it... then three months later i hear through the grapevine that it wasn't quite good enough, and no one had the balls to come out and say it...

finished my paper on the book Hot, Flat, and Crowded that the pretentious deuche known as Thomas Friedman had written... Fuck him and all he knows... he just wanted to make a good amount of money, and saw that the time was ripe for the picking with an environmental book...
besides... the only thing that can really be said about global climate change is that if we stop it the new generation begins.
if we dont it looks like the human race has reached its apex.
end of story.

Peace

That's Just Fuckin' Awesome

I had a sneaking suspicion that shit was still going down,
but now today after hearing that Angel has to write an essay about Darfur i checked the websites...
apparently nothing has changed since i became fed up with how little people are doing and stopped following the few stories that the media actually decided to cover...
UNAMID is still there, although they have very small numbers and still no weapons to actually do anything.
attacks still continue, and anyone involved is simply lobbying the U.N. to try and get them to arrest the president of Sudan... not like that would actually help anything... china still buys the oil supplied by sudan which funds the janjaweed, and even if the president was arrested i doubt that they would just stop.

i think they should just take all that money they raise to support the Darfurians
and use it to buy them guns...

at least that way they would have a chance to fight back.

Conflicting Resolutions

of course when i get back it all falls into place...
just now im no longer sure what place i wanted...

Either way i get a big "What IF?"

Vegas Was Fun

the concert was one of the best i had been too...

but...

If i could do this weekend over i wouldn't have gone...
Instead now im scrambling to find a way to do what i actually wanted to do...

My main priority

is you right now.
i'm already there for you
(closer than you think right now)
just breathe a little for me

Have Some Composure-

where is your posture?
oh no no
You're pulling the trigger, pulling the trigger
all wrong.


i still can't believe i like panic at the disco's first album

In three days im going to be headed to vegas...
but in the meantime i have to subvert myself
when all i desire is to break

I guess right now breaking benjamin says it best...
"I need something that leaves me next to nothing"

Certain Insanity

What the fuck am i still doing up?
I went to
(attempted go to)
bed 2 hours ago!

Fucking Hearts in Atlantis...

And currently

i feel like Ben Gibbard...
With some Jorge Luis Borges thrown in...
Everything on Death Cab's "Photo Album" is just there...
and i finally managed to find a copy of "Borges and I" that was fully translated in english;
made me remember why i love Borges, and awakened so much... or maybe just put it in words...
about who i am,
and who nygil is.
howeverythingfeelslikeadream

then with the death cab...
"I grow thicker skin and let my lusterous coat fill in because i never will admit,
that i loved you guenivere, i loved you guenivere..."
i honestly think the photo album is his deepest, and possibly favorite, album that he wrote.

field trip tomorrow.
but right now John Frusciante.

Seminar Paper Molla Fucka!!

Nygil McCune
Winter Quarter: Seminar 5
Legacy of the American Dream

Surface Tension


The book Sarah Canary by Karen Joy Fowler follows a sequence of events that occurs when one of the main characters in the story, a Chinese railroad worker named Chin Ah Kin, discovers that an unattractive white woman has stumbled into his family’s makeshift camp. It soon becomes clear that the woman is not only unattractive, but also overwhelmingly incoherent. She eventually is dubbed “Sarah Canary” by an insane asylum inmate, and the course of the book continues to unfold as the main characters all dilute their rationality to chase Sarah around the Pacific Coast based on various personal disillusionments about the nature of Sarah’s character. The way in which the characters interact with Sarah demonstrates the irresponsible lengths and irrational decisions that people will turn to in order to satisfy various pipe dreams of personal fulfillment.
The entirety of the tale presented truly kicks off once Chin decides to break Sarah Canary out of the asylum in Steilacoom. When Chin first met Sarah in the forest (she actually didn’t have a formal name at that point) he believed her to be an Immortal, or god in disguise sent to test Chin’s nobility (9). Chin is told by his family to take Sarah away from the camp, so he decides to take her to Steilacoom. On the way there Chin is incarcerated in the Steilacoom jail (for various racial reasons), and Sarah is put in the asylum. The asylum is probably the best place for her seeing as to how so far in the story Sarah has shown a complete inability to communicate with humans, and was discovered wandering in the forest with no supplies whatsoever. Chin, however, decides to break her out of the asylum due to the fact that he witnessed a female inmate being struck and escorted harshly away for creating a mess (53). While the abuse that went on in the asylum was undoubtedly bad, Chin overlooked the fact that in all rational sense Sarah was most likely suffering from a mental disorder, and that at least in the asylum Sarah would be provided with constant meals, medical treatment, and a place to rest. By escaping with Sarah (who later consequently escaped from him, only to inexplicably show up again hours later) Chin also allowed another inmate named B.J. to escape. From this point on Chin, and now B.J., chase Sarah Canary around the country. While part of this chasing is based upon wanting Sarah to be safe from the dangers that are now present from Sarah being an escapee of the asylum, it could be argued that most of Chin’s motivation could derive from his idealism of Sarah being an Immortal. While the character Adelaide Dixon is postulating openly about Sarah Canary, Chin thinks that “Sarah Canary had never seemed harmless or vague to him. Mysterious, rather. Possibly powerful. Certainly purposeful” (241). It is clear that throughout the whole story Chin views keeping Sarah Canary safe (though it might seem that he failed) as a fulfillment, or test of his character, that upon completion would reveal something new or splendid to him. It is this irrational belief that something far deeper will spring forth from Sarah drives his character throughout the story.
The characters Miss Adelaide Dixon and Harold operate in a similar fashion with respect towards each other with how they regard Sarah Canary. Harold, who seems to be a rambling veteran of the civil war turned con-artist, views Sarah as a source of profit and fame, so he kidnaps her and forces her to perform as “The Alaskan Wild Woman” (101-107). After the show Harold gets drunk and attempts to rape Sarah. Sarah fends him off with a chopstick, and shortly afterwards the Suffragist Adelaide Dixon arrives to rescue Sarah. When Harold is lying on the ground after Sarah’s counter attack, he mentions to Chin that he believes Sarah is a vampire, and that it is Harold’s duty to kill her (154).
Adelaide, however, believes Sarah is another woman named Lydia Palmer. In San Francisco Lydia Palmer had murdered Andrew Hamelin when Andrew decided to stop the affair that was going on between the two people. Adelaide then kidnaps “Lydia,” a.k.a. Sarah, away from her initial kidnapper Harold, in order to bring her to San Francisco and use Lydia as a martyr for the Suffragist movement (121-127). While Sarah and Adelaide are on the boat to San Francisco, Adelaide makes the discovery that Lydia Palmer has actually been found, and that the woman traveling with her is known as Sarah Canary.
This discovery changes Adelaide’s opinion about Sarah slightly, but not by a marked enough change to discourage her to let Sarah be. When it became clear to Adelaide that Harold was trying to kill Sarah, Adelaide adopts the notion that Sarah is a mystery to be solved; similar to the story she recounts about a boy named Caspar Hauser. Caspar apparently was a teenager who suddenly appeared in the town of Nuremburg, and whose existence was a mystery until Caspar was murdered. It then became apparent that Caspar was an heir to the house of Royal House of Baden (242). Oddly enough, Chin seems to understand fully the situation at hand by remarking “Harold is crazy,” when Adelaide begins to ponder as to why Harold wants to kill Sarah, but he fails to actually tell Adelaide what Harold’s ulterior motive is for wanting Sarah dead (241).
B.J. seems to be the only character that has no illusions or irrational opinions about Sarah Canary; he appears to actually take everything at face value. The most obvious example of this is through B.J.’s understanding of speech. When B.J. is told by the character Sam that Indians are difficult to deal with but “you just have to live with them,” he becomes confused and believes that Sam actually lives with Native Americans (159). Throughout the book B.J. seems rather complacent with everything that occurs, and only asks for knowledge when it will be given; he seems to only be staying with the other characters due to liking their company. He does not attempt to really dig deep into the meanings of people’s actions, and seems more like a sponge when it comes to gathering information. It could be argued that the Fowler does not approve of this method of information collecting by having him killed in the ending of the story. However, if one where to look and see that the reason why he actually died is because so many people desired something so much more divine from Sarah Canary than there actually was, his death can be viewed more as the analogy between the loss of innocence and life that can result from trying to squeeze divinity and transcendence out of ordinary things.
This analogy is what is represented throughout the whole book. The intercalary chapters in the book demonstrate some of the simple insanity that was going on in the world at that time. Most of this insanity and disorder can be seen as being caused from humans desiring to be fulfilled in the way of money, fame, or achieving some sort of higher knowledge. While this is not to say that acting in such a fashion is inherently malevolent, it is merely suggesting that basing ones actions around a self-fulfilling life can lead to disastrous outcomes. It is true that each of the characters did learn something from the adventure of following Sarah, it must be asked if the price was truly worth it. Perhaps at times it would be more advantageous to ones self, and humanity as well, to simply live in the moment and enjoy that which is currently presented.

So I'm Pretty Sure-

that anyone who walks around with a sign that says "Free Hugs" is probly just looking to spread the AIDS virus... and don't you even begin with telling me that you can't catch AIDS through hugs
(only through blood, semen, breast milk, and vaginal fluid :)
because i know better!!! and even if you were right, you still can't tell me that they aren't infected with ebola or some other terrible disease that will make me poop my own heart out!!!
furthermore why the hell would anyone give out hugs for free?
(FO FREE!)
thats just crazy. i personally would charge like 50 bucks for the first hug, $35 for each additional hug afterwards in a 3 hour period. and thats if i liked your shoes!
if you aint got a good pair a lugs on you aint gettin shit from me...
well i might give you shit
(on a stick even!!)

and also, what the hell is myspace doing anymore? errtime i get on that damn site i feel like i just walked into the fuckin redlight district... shit, askin me if i need a girlfriend
(nigga that woman aint no ones girlfriend ever!)
and then it shows me this pic of this bitch who probly has at least 15 different types of verenial diseases. i wouldn't stick shit up in that ho!... well, i might stick shit up in that ho
(on a stick even!!)
i just wanna know, who the hell turned myspace into a pimp?! one thing's fo certain tho, Tom must be gettin' paid for all that advertisin... shit, i might create a website that just advertisments for bitches... be like the yellow pages fo hookers; online!

and finally, what the hell is with all these god damn people wantin to save the stupid polar bears? what have polar bears ever done for me? all they do is kill baby seals, and not give a fuck
(gotta give em mad respect for that last one)
i mean polar bears are just godless killing machines; straight up.
but aparently cuz they'z too much of a bitch to survive a lil bit of a heat change errbody's freakin out tryin to save em. this crazy woman came up to me and wanted to talk to me about the damn devil bears, and im just like "bitch, i dont know you! i dont owe you shit!! well... maybe i do owe you shit
(on a stick biznach!)
so for all y'alls out there wantin to save these crazy animals i just suggest you sacrifice yourself to them for food. this way they get a free meal
(maybe 2-3 if you're part of the 1/4 of america that is obese!)
and i get you to shut up.
sounds fair to me.
im out

Allow Myself to Introduce...

Myself

It's funny how much that changed the way everything went today...
I guess for as dismal and dissenting as I tend to be, I still am human, and will hold on to hope if it ever stretches out its
(warm, smooth skin)
hand...

Idk... I'm just happy she knows I exist now... I feel one step closer to... something...
And I feel this certainty that next time will be the time if the time ever should occur...
Either way...

I guess if nothing else I realized something about myself.
Alex says she's going to start her 4th blog (although i think we know you're slightly behind schedule, dear. but i think we can make exceptions in your case) here shortly... one for each year.
there was a time when i was thinking i would do the same; start my second site... i was thinking somewhere around my 300th post.
then i realized how contradictory that would be to my "nature" (hate that fucking word)...
i dont view things most things as having definite starting and stopping points...
i dont feel changes between days... or even really years for that matter (new years is a joke to me)
everything is a growth, a development. doesnt mean things get better, just that they change
and change
and change.
but i dont know where those changes start or stop.
i dont dictate when they occur.

I don't dictate the changes I undergo.
They dictate me.
As one fluid progression.

Just for you

No.
he's not right, and you know this.
I know this.
Don't you even start down that road
You're so much better.

and if it truly comes down to it i'll get a helicopter and an entire herd of pink elephants.
You know I will.

Hitting So Deep

i don't know why but right now this song is hitting at something so hard right now...
i don't know exactly what it is... something about the line "hit me back, just to chat, your biggest fan, this is stan..." idk... just the idea that these celebrities are real people, and it's actually possible to talk to them on a real level... and something about being so inspiring that people follow your daily life... i really don't know... there's something else behind it all right now, but i can't get at it... i just know its hitting me now

My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why I..
got out of bed at all
The morning rain clouds up my window..
and I can't see at all
And even if I could it'd all be gray,
but your picture on my wall
It reminds me, that it's not so bad,
it's not so bad..

Dear Slim, I wrote but you still ain't callin
I left my cell, my pager, and my home phone at the bottom
I sent two letters back in autumn, you must not-a got him
There probably was a problem at the post office or something
Sometimes I scribble addresses too sloppy when I jot em
but anyways; fuck it, what's been up? Man how's your daughter?
My girlfriend's pregnant too, I'm bout to be a father
If I have a daughter, guess what I'ma call her?
I'ma name her Bonnie
I read about your Uncle Ronnie too I'm sorry
I had a friend kill himself over some bitch who didn't want him
I know you probably hear this everyday, but I'm your biggest fan
I even got the underground shit that you did with Skam
I got a room full of your posters and your pictures man
I like the shit you did with Ruckus too, that shit was phat
Anyways, I hope you get this man, hit me back,
just to chat, truly yours, your biggest fan
This is Stan

Dear Slim, you still ain't called or wrote, I hope you have a chance
I ain't mad - I just think it's FUCKED UP you don't answer fans
If you didn't wanna talk to me outside your concert
you didn't have to, but you coulda signed an autograph for Matthew
That's my little brother man, he's only six years old
We waited in the blistering cold for you,
four hours and you just said, "No."
That's pretty shitty man - you're like his fucking idol
He wants to be just like you man, he likes you more than I do
I ain't that mad though, I just don't like being lied to
Remember when we met in Denver - you said if I'd write you
you would write back - see I'm just like you in a way
I never knew my father neither;
he used to always cheat on my mom and beat her
I can relate to what you're saying in your songs
so when I have a shitty day, I drift away and put 'em on
cause I don't really got shit else so that shit helps when I'm depressed
I even got a tattoo of your name across the chest
Sometimes I even cut myself to see how much it bleeds
It's like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me
See everything you say is real, and I respect you cause you tell it
My girlfriend's jealous cause I talk about you 24/7
But she don't know you like I know you Slim, no one does
She don't know what it was like for people like us growin up
You gotta call me man, I'll be the biggest fan you'll ever lose
Sincerely yours, Stan --
P.S. We should be together too

Dear Mister-I'm-Too-Good-To-Call-Or-Write-My-Fans,
this'll be the last package I ever send your ass
It's been six months and still no word - I don't deserve it?
I know you got my last two letters;
I wrote the addresses on 'em perfect
So this is my cassette I'm sending you, I hope you hear it
I'm in the car right now, I'm doing 90 on the freeway
Hey Slim, I drank a fifth of vodka, you dare me to drive?
You know the song by Phil Collins, "In the Air of the Night"
about that guy who coulda saved that other guy from drowning
but didn't, then Phil saw it all, then at a show he found him?
That's kinda how this is, you coulda rescued me from drowning
Now it's too late - I'm on a 1000 downers now, I'm drowsy
and all I wanted was a lousy letter or a call
I hope you know I ripped ALL of your pictures off the wall
I love you Slim, we coulda been together, think about it
You ruined it now, I hope you can't sleep and you dream about it
And when you dream I hope you can't sleep and you SCREAM about it
I hope your conscience EATS AT YOU and you can't BREATHE without me
See Slim; Shut up bitch! I'm trying to talk!
Hey Slim, that's my girlfriend screamin in the trunk
but I didn't slit her throat, I just tied her up, see I ain't like you
cause if she suffocates she'll suffer more, and then she'll die too
Well, gotta go, I'm almost at the bridge now
Oh shit, I forgot, how am I supposed to send this shit out?

Dear Stan, I meant to write you sooner but I just been busy
You said your girlfriend's pregnant now, how far along is she?
Look, I'm really flattered you would call your daughter that
and here's an autograph for your brother,
I wrote it on the Starter cap
I'm sorry I didn't see you at the show, I musta missed you
Don't think I did that shit intentionally just to diss you
But what's this shit you said about you like to cut your wrists too?
I say that shit just clowning dog,c'mon - how fucked up is you?
You got some issues Stan, I think you need some counseling
to help your ass from bouncing off the walls when you get down some
And what's this shit about us meant to be together?
That type of shit'll make me not want us to meet each other
I really think you and your girlfriend need each other
or maybe you just need to treat her better
I hope you get to read this letter, I just hope it reaches you in time
before you hurt yourself, I think that you'll be doin just fine
if you relax a little, I'm glad I inspire you but Stan
why are you so mad? Try to understand, that I do want you as a fan
I just don't want you to do some crazy shit
I seen this one shit on the news a couple weeks ago that made me sick
Some dude was drunk and drove his car over a bridge
and had his girlfriend in the trunk, and she was pregnant with his kid
and in the car they found a tape, but they didn't say who it was to
Come to think about, his name was..
it was you

heh

what fun this is

Vaermina

fuckin ridiculous shits... ironic when this all came out... and now the whole thing with cait... ugh

"Vaermina" everybody

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Verse I~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucidity blankets me in its

Holy illusion

Covering all that I see

Pressing its form closer

Freezing my tears before they

Chance to fall down

Solitary with this lover

Are there no other options?

And I, I, and I

Have lost my breath again

My thoughts are taken clearly

Distorted and changed like me

I've bared all for you

Yet you're still hiding all from me

Hold steady, push myself through this

Hold steady, make believe I can do this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Transition~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yet look at all that you gave me

So many wonders I could never have

Your complication makes me

So much more

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chorus~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silence takes me

In its arms

Silence makes me

I am yours

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Verse II~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Press myself closer into

Your ever-loving dead embrace

Forge myself deeper into

The holy image that you leave

Draw from you gifts of

Splendor that I would never know

My holy lover

Take from me all I have to give

But if i kissed your lips would you

Return again?

Do I even leave impressions in yourSkin?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Transition~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So cold I'm falling in again

So tight I'm holding in

I cannot bear the distance

My dirty skin creates

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chorus~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silence takes me

In its arms

Silence makes me

I am yours

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Bridge~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Resolve~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looking in your eyes, the truth I find

I would give up mine, if you wanted life

The more I am shoved, the less I want to run

I would give up my blood, just to feel your love

You're keeping me awake, keeping me afraid

Turning me to shame, in all that I create

Sleep in suffering, awake in agony

Evermore it seems, there's no rest for me

You have me so completely

I know there never will be

Ugh My Hand Itches

course i guess im lucky i didnt break it...
fucking slipknot and mudvayne... my good friends right now.

My Own Aftermath

fuckkkkkkk
i cant even begin this shit
and yet i want it to end
cant believe i slipped past myself and took my burden off on you
and i had no idea what you were feeling
i jjust.............

Landslide

Landslide

I Always hate listening to live tracks out of context...

because the cheering always gets cut out early, and i feel as though i'm missing out on what happens next...

Yes indeed, I'm alone again.
And here comes emptiness crashing in.
It's either love or hate, I can't find in between,
'cause I've been with witches and I've been with a queen.

It wouldn't have worked out anyway.
So now it's just another lonely day.
Further along we just may.
But for now it's just another lonely day.

Wish there was something now I could say or do.
I can resist anything but the temptation from you.
But I'd rather walk alone than chase you around.
I'd rather fall myself than let you drag me on down.

It wouldn't have worked out anyway.
And now it's just another lonely day.
Further along we just may.
But for now, it's just another lonely day.

Yesterday seems like a life ago,
'cause the one I love today, I hardly know,
You I held so close in my heart, Oh dear,
Grow further from me with every fallen tear.

It wouldn't have worked out anyway.
So now it's just another lonely day.
Further along we just may.
But for now it's just another lonely day.
For now it's just another lonely day.
For now it's just another lonely day

Lets take a field trip to the ghetto!!

just look out for those crack heads scuttling up trees and whatnot!
this place has all the symptoms of a project!!!

yea

i was gonna post what i put up as a bulletin on myspace...
but then i realized how tired i am...

There'll Be No Shelter Here

When you're in a system that is fucked up the only way to measure things is by how much worse things could be.



I'm Out.

I Don't Deserve This

On the other side
the time has come
lock and load
I'm coming
I'm coming
I'm coming
I'm coming home
Pull me out of body don't want it don't want in,
Pull me out of body don't want it don't want in,
Pull me out of body don't want it don't want in,
Dark for fear of failure, an inner gloom as wide as an eye and fermenting roiling hate, death grip in my veins unveiling rancid petals, flowering forth foul nectar,
the space between a blink and a tear...
death blooms.

Anne-a Banana

ive seen you before you know
not in body
(though oddly your form is familiar in its movements)
but in mannerisms that hand me down
and turn me out,
im captivated its true
for me to speak differently would be to deny myself
though your magnetism towards me acts other than what you would think
because it is not really you that holds my eye's gaze
it is not your way of speaking,
nor your way of being that brings me to you;
standing in your shadow and longing to dissolve into its depth.
for i am not truly brought back to you,
you dont actually exist in my mind
instead you pose in my head as the outline
the figure
the light-hearted, heavy guarded
and all it has started
within me
i know i could never love you
because you are not who you think you are
not to me
continue to be true to yourself
though i will always know otherwise
that you are acting from a memory
and you will continue to draw me
my eyes
my wishes and hopes
even though i had abandoned that hope;
buried it so long ago
continue to live as yourself
but to me
you will always be someone else

ugh

class starts in half an hour...
10-2:30...
wouldnt be so bad if it wasnt so boring...
especially the part after lunch cuz that is typically a "community time" or whatever the fuck my professor wants to call it...
i say fuck your community.
i really don't give a damn about it or you.

Fuck Girls

"Hip-Hop became my girl, my confidant, my best homie"
-Marshall Mathers

word

Im Praying for Sleep

hopefully it comes easy
class at ten tomorrow
lasts until 4....
im gonna go crazy i know it

Please Confirm That You Are A Human

So i'm reading "The Way of all Flesh" by Samuel Butler...
punk-a-doo if you read this you would like it...
It's a story from the mid 1800's about a boy growing up under the strict rule of a victorian clergyman family, and coming to his own and rebelling against the discipline of his parents... very much along the lines of "Catcher," but told from a different perspective...
i a little more than moderately identify with it, especially the part right now where Ernest is going throughout school, but finds little luster in his studies, and yearns for learning something that sets his soul aflame... the fact its such a classic novel makes it hard to swim through when tired, which sucks because starting tomorrow i have a feeling that i will only be able to read it on those times in which i find myself overcome by insomnia and reclusing to the silence and solitude of the late night common room...
but i enjoy its thickness; its density and classic grammatical obstacle course...
i also seceretly enjoy the fact that me liking such books gains respect from others...
earlier todaday while i was reading "Flesh" in the common room tenzin asked me about it and commented about how she thought it was really cool that i was into classic literature and what not like that... she asked me if i was interested in being a lit professor, and i had to reply (not so poetically as i will now) that i thought about it, but then i realized that i didn't want to be the fuck that all pretentious lit majors wind up to be...
i love that people find somethings i do interesting and hold them in prestige... but at the same time that line from "How Could I Forget" by The Faint runs through my mind...
introverted boy you are not interesting,
boy you think you're intellectual
but no one's talking to you now
and that's pretty much the way it all sums up to be with my whole being right now...
i have all these thoughts... and i find them really interesting;
i have all these fantasies... but i don't know if i will ever make them more than fantasies...
i don't know that if i ever got my castle that i've drawn in the air that i would think it as fun in actuality as it was when i was struggling to think it up... (damn that sentence should be refined to make more sense... fuck it...)
same thing with actually meeting people...
when ian and i sit in the cafeteria all we pretty much do is look for cute girls... which is kindof sad, especially because there are only so many girls at the college, but we are guys, and i find it entertaining nonetheless... and with every girl that i see i look at her and i wonder what it would take for me to say/do for her to notice me... for me to get her attention and make her smile at me... wonder what it would be like to date her, kiss her, talk with her, explore her, cuddle with her, and yes; fuck her...
and every day there's one girl in particular that i look for: Asia.
something about her enormously huge goofy glasses, light brown hair, and pale skin makes me like her more than others... i imagine that she's a really goofy girl to talk to... but deep down she knows quite alot and has the depth someone would need to manage dating me... and i've seen her outside of the cafeteria, and at parties and whatnot; each time ian tells me "go talk to your woman!" but each time i just weakly reply that "she's not my woman" and change the subject...
and the truth is that i get obscenely scared... not of talking to her, i could manage that... but of the actuality of my dream and how it might be fulfilled... i think i get more pleasure out of imagining that something could be possible with this girl, rather than going and actually making my dream a reality... which could explain why i liked the idea of dating stephanie... but as soon as i had her i didn't want her anymore...
aside from Asia there is one other girl that i really think about dating... Erin; this girl on the fourth floor who i hang out with quite alot... there are a couple things standing in my way though... i'll get to those in a minute...
fuck... its already 11...
so i was sitting here reading "Flesh" on my bed and i hear a knock on my door. it's tenzin saying "special delivery." i open the door and she is standing there and she hands me the gift i was supposed to get during secret santa... it's a handful of honey sticks and a burned cd with Mos Def and M.I.A. on it (which is currently playing)... i asked tenzin to tell me who it was and she only replied that i had to guess and left... i stood there for a second staring at the gift and contemplating how perfect it was... i love mos def and mia but i don't have any of their music... thinking about this made the hair on my head stand up in the way that always catches me off guard... i head to ruth, cait, and abbey's room to see if they can help me figure out who my secret santa was... i offer ruth and abbey (cait wasnt there) a honey stick and try to figure it out... they both know (jerks!) and instead of telling me they just rattle off about who they remember had who for the secret santa... im trying to figure out who i've told that i like mos def and mia, and combined with ruth and abbey's rambling i finally i come to the conclusion that it has to be cameron.. so i rush to the common room (in my pj's) and accuse him of being my secret santa... he tells me that he wasnt, and anne says that she knows who it is, but she cant tell me and i have to guess... at that moment Erin walks into the room; her and anne start giggling... i look at Erin and ask me if she was my secret santa... she says yes, and although she didn't know i liked Mos Def she said she just picked it because it's good rap... i thanked her and went back to my room, but i wanted to run across the common room and give her a crazy big hug for getting me something so perfect... once i got back to my room i tried to get back into "Flesh" but i could only think about how perfect Erin's gift was... Ironically the area in "Flesh" im in right now is talking about how susceptible Ernest is to the slightest charms of a female... thinking about her gift made me think about how i loved the way her hair looks right now... how pimp shit her boots are... how everynow and then when she's not looking i steal a glance her way and admire the way she is... and every now and then when im lying down and reading my mind wanders to how nice it would be to have her laying ontop of me asleep while i read over her shoulder... and about how i have this fantasy of me settling down and getting ready to sleep for yet another hollow night in my room, and hearing a knock on my door to find Erin standing there asking if we could hang out for a little while tonight...
fuck... there is a fine line between being a romantic and being a creeper...
either way i sincerely doubt that anything will happen... mainly for two reasons....
the first being that ian has already made it abundantly clear that he realllllllllllly likes Erin... and if i ended up being with her i feel as though i might be betraying him... which violates my personal favorite rule BROS BEFORE HOS!
the second thing that is really stopping me is the one thing she said to me as ian, ruth, erin, and i were coming back from a party off campus:
"I'm really glad that the four of us can do this as friends."
as soon as she said that i instantly wished i wasn't so close to her...
its funny how most guys don't actually have a "Friend Zone"; we have a "Guy Zone" and a "Girl Zone" and if a girl ends up being one of the "guys" it very rarely makes her undateable because of the "value of her friendship"...
yet i know that girls definatly do have such a thing as a "Friend Zone"... and i definately know that im in it with Erin...
so in reality that knock on my door that wish to hear everynight when im sitting in my room thinking obsenely deep thoughts won't come...
that girl won't be standing in the doorway with the look on her face that says "i know what you're thinking when you look out the window during dinner, and i have some darker thoughts i want to share as well..."
it's all just castles drawn up in the air...

You sink into my clothes...

im not going to be able to do it...
i will eternally be gatsby...
collecting everything to fill myself.
yet everything will not sate the taste and desire for only that one true thing which i can never possess.

Everyone who is interested asks

the same question...
and all are shocked at the answer...
i don't find it that unbelievable, do you?
(not given the circumstances and feelings)
and its not for a lack of trying, but everytime i'm in that situation
(comfort replaced by awkwardness)
i'm no longer in my element
and something else is brought out
individualistic and disgusted.
is it a matter of standards?
or am i merely too harsh with myself?
but here i see everyone else in positions
(yea, that's right)
that i wish to be in... to everyone else this comes natural, as easy as breathing...
fucking ian has gone through like three or four...
and im a year and a half old
doubting the date of birth as it is...
well, not doubting... just erasing and most likely going to never acknowledge it's occurance...
for all intents and purposes i feel as though i still hold the card in my hand...
and sean and paige just... blow right through all the others as if it were nothing.
is it nothing?
is it something so much more simple that i just don't understand?
am i elevating it too much in my mind?
idk........
because at the same time i know i want more than it...
i want more...
a blanket unfamiliar yet comfortable to consistantly wrap myself in...
danger and excitement in that unfamiliarity...
so that i will keep coming back for more...
that's what i want i think...
more comfort, fear without regard...
so im holding out...
but is it what i should be doing?

no matter what,
i feel as though im missing out on something that everyone else is a part of...
standing on the sidelines watching everyone else play...
and i hate them for it...
for their stupidity at not even knowing what theyre doing; not knowing how lucky they are to even be in the position that they are in...
and then they have the audacity to complain to me about it...
it makes me sick...
yet i envy them simply for the fact that they are in something i consistantly find myself left out of...
i guess it truly is that no one actually knows what they have...
and very few people understand the lives of others...
even now as i write this there are so many things im sure others wish for in my possession...
of course i think i would most likely be willing to trade...

idk...
this just seems so simple
so human in nature...
yet i've felt devoid of any feeling of it for so long...
i really can't remember what it feels like anymore...

The Poverty of Philosophy

i knew i fuckin adored Immortal Technique...
I'm stepping to the side for a while,
and letting him do the speaking.
the mic is passed

Nothing like a lil birthday suprise

i mean i probly could get more out of this if i just held it in
let it fester a bit
let it grow up and consume till i wanna kill a bitch...

enough rapping...
thank god fucking gus and sean are here right now otherwise i would probly loose my fucking mind and tear my hair from it's roots.
i hate birthdays
i hate all holidays
yet call it fate or just setting the record straight
i think it's ironic that what could arguably be the most important day for a person
is placed right in the middle of three massive holidays...
and now all this...

i've never believed in wishes, i've never believed that people get what they deserve
yet here this time of year that's what everyone is supposed to just senslessly believe...
i like believing in things with a little more foundation.
things i can control myself....
so here's the way i see it.
"who controls the past, controls the future, who controls the present controls the past."
so heres how it stands
my "new years resolution" or whatever you faggots wannacall it.
im gonna grab a strangle hold and choke my past to death.
"talking about how i fabricated my past, he's just aggravated i won't ejaculate in his ass."
oh jesus what the fuck am i talking about...
its fucking worthless anyway.
im done
i fucking hate you all.

Let's have three cheers

for the most fag-a-licious holiday there is.

merry fucking- shut the hell up.

Tonight is not like Tonight

you worthless piece of shit
honestly now,
how long do you think you can keep up this charade and just slide through everything
hoping for change
yet not willing to get up an dissolve the ties neccessary
playing by your own made up rules in a made up universe
pretending that everything will just work out
like it does in all those worthless movies you watch
like it was a game or something
and so you stepped aside
and let outside forces start to rule your life
ignore it as much as you want
you're addicted and hopeless
yet you put on this face
and act as though these things aren't happening
and then sit around feeling sorry for yourself
because no one came to rescue lil old you
from things that you don't even lift a finger to save yourself from.

how do you honestly expect to get better?
how do you honestly expect things to change?
when you're this far down and full of yourself.
get the fuck over it. clean yourself up some you worthless fuck.
then come talk to me about your problems.
and maybe then i'll think about helping you.
til then
don't expect me to step in and fight the demons you've created yourself
none of this is real.
stop pretending
you piece of fucking shit.

#20

from Pablo's 20 poems of love....
fits so well...
feelings are so universal, and the odd thing is that somehow the more personal a feeling is
the more universal it becomes....

i hate my dreams.

but as pablo says

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

The Moon is not Only Beautiful

it is also so far away

i didn't expect Imogean Heap to be so damaged sounding on Imegaphone...
there's something there; a reason i thought so hard about that. don't know what it is yet...
all i know is that i must enjoy the adrenaline rush...
every time i see something new on you
i feel the glands on my kindneys drop a little juice into my system
and while it makes me feel a little sick
i must love it overall
otherwise i don't think i would keep re-visiting this place
this frame for existing thought
and i don't wanna leave this room today.
i just wish there was something more to captivate me here
so i could slip away...

the face in the mirror is not me

jph

if i had a penny for every stupid person i didnt want to talk to im sure i would have enough money to get away with killing said stupid people.

fucking revolting

Every-God-damn-mother-fucking-time

i always race you to be the first one that is silent
but you always fucking win
and there i stand
left in the snow, dick in hand
feeling stupid, abandoned, and tricked
fool me once shame on you
fool me an infinite number of times
fuck me with a razor dildo and burn me at the cross.
yet i know it's not your fault,
or maybe thats just what i tell myself
so that im allowed to be fooled over and over and over
(been over this- so over this)
and it returns to the way it's always been
im not sure if i'm mad at myself or you
not sure if i'm mad at me for being mad at you
i guess im just not sure
all i know is everytime i want it to be
it's not you
and i don't think it ever will be...
things were so much easier for the both of us
when impossibility ruled my life

Wide awake and keeping distance from myself

its easier this way

It's Getting...

I wish I knew what it was I was trying to change... In both me and the world...
To build a dream for me and you
and i wish i could defeat this urge to
Lock all the doors, kill the lights
crumple inside myself, but no matter what i seem to do
It's getting colder... It's getting colder...
I can give myself no quarter,
We ask no quarter
and i don't think i will ever be able to relent.
Locked in a room where no one goes
And so i
Shut the door
lay down in silence
and kill the light
and try to sleep even though i can tell
no ones coming home tonight
that every where else in the dorms life is thriving.

It's not like you killed someone

"and its not like you drove a spiteful spear into his side
praise the one who left you broken down and paralyzed
he did it all for you..."

I've never actually seen that song in this light until now... weird how a tempo change over a techno beat can actually fully change the ways that a song can be applied to someone's life...
(this song is no longer about a god, but a mortal man... and yes, im screaming it to you; i don't want to scream at you though, and i never will)
i also never really got how alike we are... i mean... i did.. but i didn't...
last night when i told you that i knew the feeling... i didn't mean just what i said.
i meant something i can't put in a text
and i knew that what i was texting wasn't helping
i dont think i could actually help you just through texting.
the closest i got was when i said you have to dig through yourself
realize and own the idea that this failure was and is necessary so that change can happen.
so that you can fight as i do.
because i do know the feeling; i live it everyday.
it's why i hate parties of anykind, why i sit by myself in class, why i'm so self aware of every action i make and how it might be viewed by others...

in hind sight we probably should have talked instead of trying to watch a movie...
because i know where you are. and i'll help to bring you 4 degrees warmer.
so here's the song i would have you interpret for your class.

4 degrees

Free yourself from yourself
Free yourself from yourself
Locked up inside you like the calm beneath castles
is a cavern of treasures that no one has been to.
Let's go digging. Let's go digging.
Bring it out to take you back in.

You won't do what you'd like to do.
Lay back and let me show you another way.
I'll kill what you want me to, take what's left and eat it.
Take all or nothing, Life's just too short to push it away.

Take it all. Take it all in. All the way in.
Let it go. Let it go in.

You won't feel what you'd like to feel.
Lay back and let me show you another way.
I'll kill what you want me to, take what's left and eat it.
Take all or nothing, Life's just too short to push it.

If you knock me down I'll come back running
Knock you down, it won't be long now

All the way in.
All the way.
Take it up higher.
4 degrees warmer.
Give in now
Give in now
And let me,
In.

You'll like this in Don't pull it out.
You'll like this, it brings us all.
It brings us closer than dying and cancer and crying.
Come on.
You can take it all.
Just like that.
Just like that.
Just like...

There's Something Odd About

slow techno remixes of A Perfect Circle songs...
and driving past houses...
and feeling empty on the inside
and acting oblivious on the outside.

fucking insomnia...
i know all this shit about how im probly just off my sleep cycle and that i need to get back on it...
tho, i don't think that's it at all..... ................
its one thing to be off a sleep cycle
its another to lay awake in bed for a 2 hour minimum no matter what time you go to bed.
but shit, if i wanted to (and we arent going to go there) i could name the reasons why i don't sleep.

once i get back at evergreen im ripping myself apart again.
it might asdhbnmk,yurfgtmdnhrreh
im tired

Tentareign

is the most amazing fucking band there is...
but......... . .... ;.. .. ... ..
oghoishgopnbnrboiWR'LOH

yea that pretty much says it

Note To self.

"Its a long way down when your hopes are high as mountains..."

I suggest we don't get them that way hmm?
Remember, simplicity, individuality, independence.
Whether or not you actually decide to do what that magic 8 ball says you should.
Expect nothing.

Parabolas and Circles

hmmmmmmmmmmm.m.m.mm.m.m.m.m.mmm.m.m.mm.m.m.mm.m.mmm.m

"this holy experiance
in choosing to be here in
this body
this body holding me
feeling eternal all this pain is an illusion
alive I........."

still feeling gangsta.
yet somehow very unrefined

I'm a Fuckin' Gangsta

straight up
brush your god damn shouldas off boy

Something You'll Learn

nothing is ever inherently good or bad.

typically things just "are"
often times there's nothing you can do to change that
only bite down on acceptance, gulp the bullet and keep moving.

We Are the Lotus Kids

just wanted to add one more thing.
im singing all the songs on By the Way right now
because they all feel really relevant to... this.
its for you is what i mean

"I can see clearly now that this not a place for playing solitare,
tell me where you want me...
...let her eyes befall you

all in all im loving every rise and fall
that some will make and i will take
breath to be sure of this
in the end and then all will be forgiven
when surrender rises high
and i give what i gave to give
say it now because you never know."

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK

could i show you
would you understand me?
if i pulled on back the curtains to this whole sick charade
do you follow?
i can lead you through this mess
i can be your guide and i can teach you how to breathe again.
but you must listen
you must hear so well
one misplaced step could throw us out of secrecy
so be careful now
follow me and we'll blend in between

the promises i could keep
you know them all so well
the vulgarity of the truth is what we're after

step beside me
shadow my footstep
leave no trace behind
of what you were, what you thought, what you'd hoped to be
we've got to change that now
there's no guarantee you'll like the results
i know you're drowning
you've got that look in your green eyes
and it's like a backward looking mirror
i could pull you out.
now that you're awake
raise your face above the waves and force air down in your throat
but if i did things might not seem
as they should all be.

the promises i could keep
you know them all so well
the vulgarity of the truth is what we're after

are you desperate now?
starting to throw it all away
if this is life then who am i to remain?
dear slow down
you're thinking much too fast
you're gonna choke and suffocate if you keep up this pace
just step down
let me break in
i'll take control and let you rest so that you can carry on
and as bad as the hunger is
to feed off you and drain you more and wither you away
i'll ration myself;
you're already bleeding, no need to make another wound
so have a little trust in me
i know this path so well
the my pupils are well adjusted to the night
and i vow to keep you safe from any more attacks
its times like these where the best protection against death
may come from the dead themselves.

Things To Look Forward To

New postsecret post tomorrow.
writing the song i have to push out with ian/jamming with ian.
oddly enough, wednesday morning (you really are a sick bastard)
and then thursday night.
have to talk to Chelan and see whether or not she's gonna ride with me to the Dalles.
i definatly enjoy her company (odd).
but i do think that she gets a lot of things (either that or you get her more than she thinks you do)
possibly both.

No matter what I'm ripping myself open tonight.

Procrastination

This fucking class needs to either get harder or be worth a damn.
just about sick with it.

btw, as soon as people feel like growing up i will join them.
but it they keep being so determined to destroy themselves and be hypocrits that it's a little hard to want to be part of their shit.

so sorry im not so happy-go-lucky like you think everyone should be.
deal with it

Middle Finger Is The Flag That I Wave

Don't tell me what I want
Don't tell me what I need
Don't tell me how I need to feel
I feel, goddamn nothing
Dig the eyes out of my face and I can still see right fuckin' through you

god damn people are stupid.

So Who Here Knows What A 'Merkin' Is?

anybody? c'mon?

its a pubic hair wig.

so here's the plan.
i'm gonna get some spandex shorts, wear them, paint them and my body blue, and then put a merkin on the crotch of the shorts (so i look like a giant blue man with no clothes and pubic hair.)
then this giant blue man will walk around downtown, go shopping, ride the bus, ect...

sounds fun right?

one more thing;

I'm in this biznis of terror, i got a stack fulla ones better grab an umbrella
I make it rain on them hos

The Face That's In the Mirror

I knew there was a reason i could never fully hate him.
and it becomes more obvious as i get on
with whatever it is i'm doing.
its like we're the same person
if not now then sometime soon i suppose we shall be

OMFG The President You Voted For Won!!!

Giant who gives a rats ass.
you are still worthless and pathetic.
and the next person who decides to scream out "OBAMA"
is getting a nice 6 inch cock meat sandwich for lunch
with extra mayonaise.

give me a fucking break

Difficult Not to Feel a Little Bit Disappointed

its weird... i didnt think that this would throw off everything in my life that easily...
yet i found myself deeply more distracted than usual, and trying to sleep was fun (i just hope you got far more sleep than i did... i hope you dont stop sleeping well cause it really does help)

i guess what im trying to say is i didnt know that i would be this sad should this ever happen...
i really do just want to see you happy.
for some reason just that alone makes me able to push through a lot.

if you still ever read this, just wanna let you know;
i'll be there for you if you need me.