That'll be all.
It's raining more. We're gonna get flooded. Again.
I'm writing a new song.
All of this is insignificant.
I can't tell what it is, if it's like or love. I don't know when to start calling it love. I'm guessing I should just wait a while before I call it that. Or something. I figured I would have stopped thinking about Saturday by now, but it's still kind of dancing around my head, and I like it. Especially the last moments. The awkward hug over the center console and THEN!... I can't even describe how Saturday happened, it just happened. But it passed in an instant. We didn't talk an incredible amount and there was some awkwardness, but we just connected so thoroughly that we decided to make it official the next day. it's the fact that we fit and we fit perfectly. She's everything I've ever wanted in a person, and i'm not just saying that for the sake of being a stupid romantic. I've been infatuated before with people and I've been in relationships before, but there wasn't this immediate instantaneous connection that I feel with her now. I think this is a good sign. I think this is a great sign. And I'm pretty much too excited to see this relationship bloom into sheer awesomeness.
I'd write more, I'd write forever. But I don't want to seem too gushy. A simple "<3" should suffice.
and in gym class i sat down in this orange chair and started thinking. there was some 7th grade girl crying over god-knows-what, but it made me think. the whole "your whole life, you're working towards something and then you die" thing that's been said and over and over again, but i started thinking more about when the 'cycle' is at it's most active. junior high. 11-14 years old. we face such emotional distress that kids at that age should never go through. people are harsh, the bullies bully more, cliques are formed. and if you don't fit in, you're done for. this is when the identity comes out. you either never evolve from the playground days, or you become a perfect model citizen. A lot rides on those 3 grades. end of 8th grade. you wanna be cool, right? have fun like old people. get fucked, do drugs, and oh. welcome to your new life. human nature sucks.
and today was dreary. like really dreary. everyone was in a mood today and i really couldn't be bothered to put up with them. i just did a lot of thinking. there was a fight in the cafeteria today, and people were laughing and talking about it. made me think about people's innate pleasure out of seeing others in physical and mental pain. despite the fact that the fight was between two 8th grade girls (I go to a combined junior/senior high school since my town's small), and it could have very well been over nothing, you're still laughing at pain. and then you talk about it like other people's lives are more interesting and valuable than yours. human nature sucks.
and i almost had a mild anxiety attack today. because i realized i had too much going on at once. it was just a natural piling up of things. it's better now, i've prioritized. but human nature still sucks.
better, more lighthearted blog tomorrow. promise.
I finished that song, Trinity, that I've been working on. The lyrics at the end are kind of average, but it's fine.
The new lyrics:
In the beginning
There was light, sweet light, sweet light, sweet light, sweet
You're blinded by that light, sweet light, sweet light, sweet light, sweet
I know he don't exist I sense it in your emptiness
And by the lightbulbs in your closet so your halos always are yellow.
song of the eternity:
Speaking of Phoenix, I have 132 sentences to write for French, and I'm just wondering how the hell I'm gonna do that during school. For now, I need to get back to reading the Grapes of Wrath until precisely 10:00 PM, at which point, I refuse to do any work because I'm the laziest person this side of the Mississippi.
Well, it's 8:51 PM. I'm sitting at Robert Nesbit's house. He's doing physics while blasting Earth, Wind, and Fire in the background.
Today was spent with Bobina. We hit up Friendly's to get Shirley Temples, because we're children apparently. Then we went mini-golfing, and she won. No, I didn't let her win because she's a girl, she won because she's genuinely better than me at mini-golf. For shame. But I redeemed myself by beating her at arm wrestling. At least with my right hand, but she beat me with her left hand because I was worried I'd break her arm or something, she had it contorted in some weird way that prevented me from pinning her. We watched A Goofy Movie, which I didn't quite enjoy as much as I wanted to, partially because I'm not 6 years old anymore. I showed her some new songs, which was pretty much the most refreshing thing. She's the first person I've showed ANY songs to since Angela left for Georgia late in '08. Having that musical outlet and being able to just unleash that on someone is too good of a feeling. She drew my face while I was playing piano, which was creepy to me at first, but when I realized how scarily accurate it was, I stopped thinking it was so creepy.
That was my day. Nothing more, nothing less. Other than the fact that someone whose name is Robert Mantegani chalked my driveway, writing "KISS HER" and "KISS HER NOW" in big letters, pink and white chalk. Moderately embarrassing, I wasn't blushing or anything, but I could feel my face getting hot when we pulled in to see that. I had to get a frickin' hose without a nozzel, drag it all the way down my frickin' driveway, and then frickin' wash out the chalk before my frickin' mom got frickin' home. But it's cleared up now, other than one other "KISS HER NOW" that was written on the STREET, for fuck's sake.
Nothing more to write. See you tomorrow.
9 of us. three large pepperoni, one large sausage. a lot smaller than we imagined they'd be. $5 for 4 slices of pizza. can't complain. we said grace, mockingly, at the table. Rob presiding as our psychopathic minister, shouting almost.
ROB: "CAN I GET AN AMEN!"
ROB: "CAN I GET A HALLELUJAH!?"
ALL: "HALLELUJAH!" The whole restaurant's disrupted by our racket. behind me, a group of kids with a slew of sticks inventing their own version of pool. a constant shouting match. the perks of being a kid. you can be loud wherever the hell you want. to the right of me, the parents of the future pool sharks of america, being equally as loud as their little cherubs, slightly inebriated Italians. How oddly fitting. Italians at a pizzeria on a friday night. our group yells at the basketball game over the adults, deliberately. they quiet down, i hear someone at the adjacent table whisper 'group of a-holes.' ear-piercing cheering erupts from the pool table. the whole restaurant falls silent briefly as a result. noise resumes. one of the cherubs, red-faced and panting, runs up and in my fucking ear: "MS WATSON!... I GOT ONE IN."
you were the holy to my ghost
a sympathetic demon with fluorescent marker painted on your toes
a sleeping beauty near comatose
sacrimonious, angelic, and nowhere near divine
and that's just fine
but i still feel swallowed by doves, and picked apart by crows
He don't exist
i can see it in your emptiness.
The D.A's picking up a few shows.
In May, we're playing the Dover Teen Center, the Keene Public Library, AND the River Run bookstore in Portsmouth. And I will hopefully be able to open at one or more of those.
A very important meeting is approaching.
The Great Bay half marathon's approaching.
The play is approaching.
The shows are approaching.
The SATs are approaching.
The AP tests are approaching.
A potential job is approaching.
The graduation of all my friends is approaching.
Script Frenzy is approaching.
The first track meets of an already insane track season are approaching.
Too much is being thrown in my face. And I'm just gonna eat it all up. I like a challenge.
For now, I'm gonna do my French composition.
Au revoir, mes amis.
I had a hard speed workout today. It wasn't that hard of a workout, but it's early into our spring track season, so I felt near death at the end of it. I finished my first 200 meter sprint in front of everyone else, but by the end (there were eight 200s, with limited rest), a few people were destroying me. We then went on a 10 minute cool-down, which I thought would be fine.
But then my legs started going into random spasms at random intervals. It forced me to walk at some points, and even when I was walking, they'd still go off.
As soon as I got home, I fell on the couch and my mind started racing. What do you have control over? You don't have control over your own body, evidently. Your legs are proving that. You also don't have control over your body when it gets sick, or when it will die. You don't have control over your heartbeat or your breathing. You don't have control over your past, and you don't have control over the future. You don't have control over the present, because there's no such thing as the present. the future is... now. the future is... now. the future is... now. Maybe I have control over my actions or other people's actions, but it's only temporary, partial control. Some actions are done naturally, without any rhyme or reason. Technology has a mind of its own, government has a mind of it's own. You get a minimal amount of participation in the development of both of these, but you also have to be a part of the majority to have any effect. And you have no control over who's the majority and who's the minority. You might feel like you have control if you're the CEO of some big company, but that's superficial. They still can come and go as they please. You have a control over the system, not the people. There's no permanent control to be had. My legs continued to pulsate until, defeated, I finally found sleep.
On the way to practice, I took the shortcut that I 'trespass' through. You may or may not remember that post I had a couple months back about my philosophy on trespassing. Well, now, there's a sign posted saying "No Trespassing: Private Property." I continued walking past it. A couple people getting out of their cars kind of looked at me. I wondered if they'd take a picture and call the cops or something. I kind of played out my defense. Land is land is land is land...
I can't think anymore.
State math meet tomorrow.
I managed to add just one line to one of those lyrics.
"You are the holy to my ghost: a sympathetic demon with fluorescent marker painted on your toes."
Maybe by the end of the year, I'll have a full set of lyrics. But it's kind of forming in my head, the theme of the song, the idea. I have the music for it, it's gonna be a short, surprisingly high-energy thing for me.
LOTS O' LINKZ:
1: The singer/guitarist of Mimas, Snævar Albertsson, is coming out with an EP this April called the Digital Age. You can listen to a couple of songs off of it here: TO THE "DAD ROCKS!" FACEBOOK PAGE!
2: Someone I met over the Internet (through our shared liking of the band Mimas! what a coincidence.) is writing a story about zombies and love. You can read it here: TO THE "YOU'VE REALLY CHANGED - A ZOMBIE LOVE STORY FACEBOOK PAGE!
3: Gonjasufi. Just found out about him. I can't even describe him, everyone I've seen review his album can't describe it with just one word. It's hip-hop meets chill-out meets psychedelic meets middleeastern music meets a rastafarian. I plan on getting his album off iTunes, since it's 20 songs for $7.99. Here are a couple songs by him:
TO "ANCESTORS" BY GONJASUFI!
TO "SHEEP" BY GONJASUFI!
Sports awards. The talking that's bursting out of the PA system at X decibels. Congratulations Erik... In one ear and out the other for just a few seconds. Girl I can't identify with too much blush and mascara on. Her phone's on the table. Talking to her friends. Nothing much to see there. Typical vapid phantom of a teenager. My eyes gaze to the school-to-career teacher. Interesting position, that is. Pretty essential, for all the kids without direction. She's our secondary guidance teacher. Very professional, formal, and reserved, and a lot of kids give her crap for it. I respect her. A lean, thin, aged face with mild, beady eyes. Hands across her lap, she stares infinitely into the direction at which the voice is coming from. Wearing some light green, almost glowing vest. And then to my plate. Cheese cubes, cut in halves and quarters and eighths. They won't be eaten. Lactose intolerant... or so you think. Scraps of noodle and meat that i don't want to scrounge up off my plate and struggle to get in my mouth. Don't want to look dumb in front of people, now do you? His mind wanders a little bit and then his gaze returns to the podium.
Two lines that are floating around my head:
- You are the holy to my ghost.
- Backpack turns to suitcase turns to last-second will.
I just saw Buzz Aldrin dance. The next person is in the Pussycat Dolls. How is this even a fair matchup? TV doesn't make sense. This is why I have the internet.
Sitting in my father's truck. Market Basket parking lot. It's 6:12, the sky's greying and darkening. Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. I look up and then kind of look around. I was having one of those moments where you get so lost in a book, that the book becomes your whole reality and you have to look up and regather where you are. I stare into space at a few seconds. A girl and her middle-aged father with scraggly hair walk by, they give me a look, the both of them. I look left. There's a black convertible. Two people walk up to it. Man and woman. Asian, both speaking what I believe is Japanese. At least they look Japanese. Just their dress, you can tell. They're all about futuristic stuff. The man's wearing a black trench coat. The woman, in her 20s, is essentially yelling at the man. The sound of her unintelligible ranting is muffled upon a car door slam. They drive off. They leave me here. Reading. I look down and enter the dust bowl once more.
SONG OF DAY. Engine by Neutral Milk Hotel. "For I am an engine and I'm rollin' on..." Mr. Mangum, come back. Please.
Nothin' mo' to write.
today is march 21, 2010. i don't feel like writing today.
a new song's being worked on. a short one, very straightforward. kinda.
listening to MGMT's Congratulations. Hating it. It's not that it's less poppy, it's the fact that it's all over the place and very same-y throughout. There's nothing to enjoy about it.
Got tux fitted. Sent in a job application. Progress.
Better post tomorrow.
Today is March 20, 2010. Below is a spoken word verse in a song I'm working on. I'm adding more, elaborating on the description of the town and other bits, but this is the basic gist of it:
"This town is a slum, swimming with the worst kinds of people. Asphyxiated by cold winds and filled to the brim with the beatenest brick buildings. But I was so afraid to leave. And now I miss homecooked meals, I miss the hospitality, I miss the freedom to spend summers outside of the steel cage that I inhabit, 9 to fucking 5s. I miss the barren trees at the start of spring, I miss the spontaneity, nights without direction, but we were goddamn kings, I miss the slide that my dad would turn into a sled run in the dead of winters. I miss the days I'd spend writing songs down at Angela's studio, and she always loved it even if the songs were shit, her laugh that made you laugh, I miss everything. I miss everyone. So I guess the lesson too-late-learned is, don't keep your head in the clouds. You face a future of regret unless you kill your friends and kill your family with your sympathy, your compassion, your kindness, and your love. Until they get sick of it."
Tomorrow, I'm going to pass in a job application, get fitted for a tux for prom, and get a new pair of shoes. Too much at once. Tomorrow's gonna suck. I don't like being out and about for an extended period of time, it really gets to me. I get self-conscious and feel like there's a set of eyes on me at all times. I prefer the safety and calmness of home. Call it a mild case of agoraphobia, that's what it is.
All I ate today was a thai peanut chicken wrap with peppers, onions, and cheese and a bunch of fries at Wings Your Way. Inbetween this, I played basketball with people all day, despite the fact that I'm horrible at basketball. I'm at least horrible at the offense part, I'm apparently alright at defending, because people dread when I defend them. It was surprisingly enjoyable, I was expecting to get sick of it, but I loved it. Apparently I had a stupid grin on my face the whole time. I couldn't stop laughing and I couldn't really pinpoint why. Endorphins, serotonin, brain chemicals: they're weird sometimes.
And then I came home and wrote that verse. While the verse is kind of positive in a weird sense, it's still kind of a stark contrast as to how I was feeling earlier. Everyone has their ups and downs, mine are just a little bit stronger, evidently.
QVC in the background. impulse purchases, instant gratification. Dog is on the new mocha microfoam couch. she shouldn't be. NCAA bracket to my left. Kansas got out. I had them winning. Thing might as well be thrown out now. Villanova's out too, but I had them out after the sweet 16 anyways. This year's tournament, man. Unpredictable. I'm waiting for something, or someone right now. Can't determine which. I need some social interaction. Loneliness is setting in after a day of being around everyone. Waiting. I tap my foot. The pitches on QVC continue until the end of the world.
Today is March 19th, 2010. I spent a good part of it in relative isolation, at the piano. I came up with a new song only to find out that it sounds identical to some parts of Tonto by Battles. But the other songs will probably have lyrics by tomorrow, they're nigh finished.
Today is video day, and I'm still halfway through filming it. It's 9:03. I hate accidentally saving things to the last minute.
Yesterday, I saw the movie Instinct with Robert, I think I mentioned that in the last post. It was weird, because the movie was very good while I was watching it, (I legitimately got choked up at one part) but then when we discussed it and I realized that it was one of the worst movies ever made, because there's an extraordinarily fundamental plot hole that ruins the entire movie.
- Main character murders two poachers in Africa.
- He's seen as insane by the police for not saying a word for a year after the murders.
- Main character proves to his psychologist that he is completely sane and can talk as he pleases.
- It's learned at the end of the movie that he was completely justified in killing the poachers. The poachers killed the family of gorillas that he had been living with for two years.
- Main character knows that he was justified in killing the poachers.
Why, therefore, wouldn't he tell the police his story in the first place, so he could return to the wild and be free? What's worse is that the main character was a doctor, a smart guy. You think he would have figured that out quickly.
Sorry if all of that made no sense to anyone except me.
In the meantime, watch this absolutely fantastic video. What makes it great is the subtle Cheetos product placement.
I'm at Robert Nesbit's house and I'm just sitting here, doing nothing. La da. da. Although I must be precise and say that I'm not doing nothing in the sense that I'm breathing and typing and talking while I type. We're about to watch some movie, since all we do is play Super Smash Bros. and watch movies at his house... *abrupt change in topic*... I accidentally got myself involved in the drama production "Jekyll's Hydes". I have a role with 44 lines. All I intended on doing was sitting in on the auditions, but there was such a small amount of people that auditioned. The rest is history.
I plan on spending all day tomorrow writing music.
That's all I have time for today. Robert's impatiently waiting to watch Instinct with Anthony Hopkins and Cuba Gooding Jr. So here's a video to keep you occupied in my absence:
Jolly good day.
I'm gonna have to be quick today, but I just want to update on how songs are coming along. I have three right now in the works, as well as another riff-type thing that has a long way to go, and they would go in this order.
1. A Song That's About Leaving (instrumental at this point.)
2. PTSD (the only new finished song I have)
3. Martyrdom... (needs more lyrics. i have two lines.)
I'm spending more and more time on the piano, because I really want to put something out. Bobina and I just started talking about working together and releasing an artbook with a CD. I want to call whatever I release next to be called 'Piss Harmonica', but we'll see how that holds up. The origin of that name is kind of a long story that I'll go into in another blog if I decide to keep it.
Speaking of which, I'm also talking with Will about covering Lua by Bright Eyes for the talent show. That would be good. The judges might actually like that. For a change.
Today was weird. A good weird.
We were at Phillips Exeter Academy today, Bixby, Henry, Nick Rocci, Rob and I, and we were playing basketball at the court that they had. Bixby drove us there, and then left to go to his physical therapy appointment. The four of us kept playing basketball a little while longer and then we walked outside towards the music rooms.
The doors were locked when we got to the music rooms, so we headed back outside. A campus police car drove up next to us as we were walking back towards the gym.
"Are you kids with the school?"
"Ehh... no." Rob spoke up. He was the one that did all of the talking for us. Thank God. If there's one thing that he's good at doing, it's thinking on his feet.
The campus policeman made a motion for us to come towards his car. We did so.
"What are you guys doing here?"
"We were just going back into the gym. Our friend dropped us off here."
"You already went INTO the gym?"
"Are you guys with any students that go here?"
"Well, we were waiting for one of our friends that goes here to play some basketball." A lie. Chicky wasn't gonna be meeting up with us.
"Ahh. What's his name?"
"Who is he?"
"He's a... guy."
"No, who is he?"
"He's a junior that goes here."
"Alright, well. This is private property, and students are only allowed to have one guest. He should know that."
"Alright, well if it's OK, we left some stuff in there and we need to go get it. Can we do that."
"Sure. I'll be waiting here for you when you get back."
We got our stuff inside and headed back out as quickly as possible. We then approached the car again with some hesitation.
"Alright, so I did a background check, and Ben Chick DOES go here, he graduates in '11. Can I have your names?"
We then gave him our names, and apologized. We weren't really sure why he needed our names, but then Rob realized that if we were to go in there again without a student, we'd be in deep shit.
We then took off, with no real direction. With no vehicle, we had nowhere to go, so we just started walking into the town of Exeter. At first we started looking for another court, but no one in the town knew where another court was, much to our bewilderment and dismay. So we just wandered back and forth the downtown stretch, occasionally stopping at a bench to rest. We ran into the same people over and over again, which led to many awkward encounters and re-encounters. Henry tried calling Bixby multiple times, but there was never any answer. We were getting concerned, or at least I was getting concerned, that we were gonna be stuck in Exeter and we wouldn't catch Bixby. After a long hour and a half of wandering, Rob spotted Bixby turning in towards the school, and he, Nick, and Henry started to run while I walked. Eventually, I started running once I was finally sure that it was actually Bixby. I don't think I've ever been so happy to be in the Bixbus than I was at that moment.
Anyways, after that we headed to a town to look for job applications. I got one, and I'm gonna apply online at two other stores. Hopefully, one accepts me. *fingers crossed*
So that was my big event of the day. I'm now very tired and sore from walking, so I'm gonna cut it off there. Have a good one, whoever you are.
I have seven identifies left to do, and I'm worried that my finger dexterity is getting worse and worse. The other day, I was playing Guitar Hero for the first time in ages, and I felt my hands were tired and I couldn't move them quickly enough on a song that I had previously mastered. and while I was playing piano earlier today, my hands were cramping up. since i'm on either a computer or a piano almost all the time, i'm worried that i'm on my way towards arthritis or carpal tunnel at an early age, which would be detrimental to any future pianoing. and therefore my general existence.
so to avoid either of these horrific things happening, i'm gonna start doing daily finger exercises. *puts a green sweatband around right index finger* i'm determined to turn these chump fingers into champ fingers. *Rocky theme plays*
SONG OF THE DAY. I have yet to listen to any of their songs other than the one below, but thanks to Pitchfork (yes. i get it. i'm a hipster for visiting Pitchfork regularly. this has been established many-a-time already.), I've found out about Titus Andronicus. Listen for yourself, I can't really describe them that well. All I can say is that it's tasty.
"A More Perfect Union"
ta ta for now
Zach Galifianakis at the Purple Onion. lol'd hard. The whole hour long video's on YouTube, but here's the first 10 minutes of it since the whole hour long video's not embeddable.
Here y'ar, deary:
That's all I have to say today, OK?
new song. lyrics:
"...10 days at sea."
That was the very last thing that you wrote to me.
That's all I could
Comprehend at least.
Sawdust fills my throat.
In the corner gathering dust in a light spring coat.
The big drops
Remind me I'm sane.
The little ones
They don't do the same.
Said it'd be over soon
Said that peace would be reached by the next full moon
2 years ago
I'm still a shell
Cracked into pieces on the sand.
We're never gonna win
It's time that you come back home so we can be whole again
There's a dull star
Serving as my companion
We're never gonna win
It's time that you come back home so we can be whole again
Not complete but better off
I promise you've done all you can.
Glorious fall from the sky.
Glorious bombs from on high.
This song, not looking at it literally, is essentially me talking to myself. There's one half of me that desperately wants to keep trying to somehow win her over and the other half that desperately wants to move on with my life. the song is from the perspective of the second half, calling on the first half to give up the fight and come back home so i can be sane again. the last two lines are from the perspective of the first half, who has cut off communication with the second half completely to avoid being distracted from his futile objective, gazing in awe at the 'beauty' of the war that he's involved in. so that's that.
it's 10:48 PM and i have yet to blog or vlog. *panic*
so i'm just gonna kind of post today and then go more into stuff tomorrow.
nothing new really happened today in the first place, the improv show happened, and i went out to eat and had a good time. fu
and off the deep end
i think that (today was awesome because we had a blackout at the school because there was an accident that took out the electricity for 15 minutes and they decided to call school off but then the power came back on but it was all right because they had already made the call so we all went home merrily on our little half-day and then i went to wendy's where i ate a chicken in sandwich form and there was a heated argument about all this drama and revenge that's been going on this week and i don't want to get into it but they're both equally at fault anyways after that we headed over to henry's barn and we messed around with our instruments without actually doing anything because we couldn't get focused and then robert and rob and a-lev and i headed over to the school so we could go to the math meet that we all did terribly at even our star mathlete which was quite the disappointment but we'll live i suppose since we have a state math meet that we're actually going to prepare for and tomorrow there's a show that dumbledore's army is undubitably playing at for our improv club show thing that's happening tomorrow and i'm moderately worried since we haven't really practiced at all for it but it should be ok because i don't expect a lot of people to be there in the first place none of us do really since the improv club is a new and obscure club that will hopefully gain popularity in the coming years since it's great in concept and i'm wondering how i'm gonna go about making a video since we're having band practice and then the show tomorrow but i guess i'll work my way around it the best i can and my dad said that he's repairing the headphones this weekend but he probably won't since he always says that he will fix stuff soon and takes ages to get around to doing it and i should be working on my french composition because lately i've been falling behind and my classes although i can't really pinpoint why i guess it's just the fact that this whole year's just been taking it's toll on mentally and i'm finding myself suffering from frequent brain farts but i'm sure i'll recover and end up doing fine in my classes even if the tests of doom are looming so closely in my future and tomorrow if i find the time i'm going to write lyrics for the first time in ages i have a decent idea i'm thinking of like using this complex war analogy and i'm gonna find out if it works the song's probably going to be called the light is on and someone's home because it's gonna be about finally coming to grips with stuff and becoming aware that you've been wronged so long and lied to either literally at war or emotionally at war with emotion i know it all sounds kind of trite but i'm gonna try my damndest to make it sound fresh since i'm actually suffering from relationship problems for once in my life but it's not even relationship problems as much as it is the lackthereof and my extreme desire to have a serious long-term one and the fact that i'm feeling tethered back by some indescribable but completely conspicuous force and it's kind of really bothering me and i wish it'd all end well but the fact that i don't see it ending well right now is inspiring me to write this song as much as i hate writing about love since i think it's such an overdone subject and i wish the sun would come out again and shine permanently so that i could go on enjoyable runs but i'm not quite at the point where runs are enjoyable again since i've kind of grown to be out of shape which is a real shame since i think taking care of one's body is one of the most important thing's that one can do so hopefully i'll get back into the swing of things before track season legitimately starts and i find myself heaving and huffing in front of my coaches which is truly nothing short of embarrassing and i feel like i've expended all of the things i wanted to talk about today thank you for listening although you probably didn't listen but i love you all the same thank you and) it's time that i said good night.
holy crap. I just logged onto YouTube to see this bullshit:
a) there's no sidebar anymore. the description's now below the video, which is ugly as all hell. Also, you see like two lines of the description before you have to click the drop down button to see more. This is very inconvenient if you're linking something, less people will be prone to click.
b) there's no rating system anymore. it's likes and dislikes. why would you EVER simplify a rating system that worked so effectively in the past?
c) to see more videos from the channel, you have to click a drop down menu, which then takes up half of the screen, pushing your video down.
d) to favorite a video now, you have to go to save to -> favorites, which is so unnecessarily inconvenient. it took me 15 seconds too much to figure out how to favorite a video.
e) it's drab, plain, and way too simple.
f) you can't see how positively or negatively voted a comment is unless you click on 'view all comments'.
g) all of a sudden, our subscription to someone incorporates ALL of the videos they upload, rate, favorite, AND COMMENT ON? if you have 67 subscriptions, that would be disastrous to your sub box. I changed that as quickly as possible.
h) the comments are pushed WAY farther down the screen, which means that less comments will be published, since people won't see the comment box right away.
I've never been this angry at a change in YouTube before. It's an absolute mess.
I was meandering on Facebook and somehow came across a page for future soldiers of the Army. one of the posts was this.
"Army Future Soldiers- Are you ready to defend this great Nation of ours? Against ALL enemies; foreign and domestic? Give me a big HOOAH and tell us why YOU ARE ARMY STRONG!"
War is good, your nation's great, defend it with big words like HONOR and COURAGE and PRIDE. Now, tell me you love Big Brother, recite your rulebook, and, remember! always obey. Do it for God.
I don't know. Stuff like that genuinely makes me feel sick. It's propaganda, plain and simple, and so many people just eat it up because they don't know better. It's justifying and promoting war and violence, which is the exact opposite mindset we should be trying to create, unless we want to be at war with every fucking country for the next 35,000 years.
That's all I have to say on that. That's the last time I'll ever bring it up, because I don't like sounding preachy and forcing my beliefs on others, as so many others do. That really grates on me as much as military propaganda does.
In happier news, songs are coming along. My dad's doing this thing, though, where he's going on a "Do it yourself mission" and he wants to fix my headphones without getting a new pair. it could therefore take weeks before I record again, since I need a pair of headphones to record, and the only pair of headphones I own is being repaired by my dad, who takes his precious time with things. as was the case with getting my piano tuned.
There's nothing more to write.
Today was a good day.
It's truly, truly the little things sometimes.
today was a beautiful day, and I went on a run, by myself, and just took everything in. i ran with my shadow, trying to catch it at some points. Felt like a kid again. The changing scenery from winter to spring. Brown grass metamorphoses to green.
I've been a writing machine, because I've been inspired by real-life happenings! GO FIGURE! i never write about things that actually happen to me, but I'd like to kind of start writing heartfelt things. it's kind of what a musician's supposed to do, after all. but I really can't seem to finish any songs. I have a couple ideas floating around right now though. Considering dropping You Look Like A Freemason. It's gotten so stale to me. Time will tell if I change my mind or not.
Well, it's that time of the week. Time for an intellectual dog montage.
Short post. I just found out about the band Slint and I think their album Spiderland's decent. Some of it lacks substance, but it's so powerful in the first place that it doesn't even matter. Here are a couple songs off of their more well known album Spiderland:
Good Morning, Captain:
it's on my "albums that i'll be getting SOON" list.
that's all i have time for 2day, friendz. until next time.
Just hit the lights. It'll be better in the morning.
say hello to the beautiful, glow-in-the dark sky as it folds in under your inner ear. Hi there. Charmed. tastes of cotton and saliva and hearing the boots crunch merrily in what remains of the early march snow. but it's all a tangle of blood vessels pumping redness into your head. but in a steady 4/4 rhythm, they stomp. speckles of yellow and green and pink ovals, ellipses, semi-circles. all lock-on to your brains and fire their tired, overused missiles and send you further down the river. echoes upon echoes drenching senses. and further...
open your eyes and look around to make sure everything's intact. lather rinse repeat, please. let's do it again. let the pre-unconscious festivities proceed, Your Majesty, Sir Cerebellum, dressed in the finest chiffon robes of white and brown. Clothed by my skull. don't ruin our fun. bathe me in your psychedelia/stone me with some muted dissonance/cover me with a blindfold made of skin. we can't afford to be off scheduleSilence is what I'm approaching at 10,000 miles per hour and ain't no one gonna stop me until I'm there in the
dark night of the deepest of the deepest of the deepest noir. No fuzzy images. negro puro. black is the desired color. Everything breaks up and gets sucked into a void for six to seven hours and then all is restored like nothing ever HAPPND in the 1st place but in all reality everything around me stops existing. gone, this roof's gone, this lamp's gone. these panels. the only thing that exists is what you WANT to exist, my dear : doesn't matter who you are, we all do it. doesn't matter if you're insane or a convict or a transvestite or a businessman or
at the end of the day the one thing we have in common is that we all
I've been listening far too much to the band Foals lately. Not that this is a bad thing. I urge you to check out their album Antidotes and to anticipate the release of their new album, Total Life Forever
What can I say.
I've been writing a new song, to kind of replace Cat and Mouse, it's called Amelia and it's about a girl who falls out of a tree and her fiance is so distraught that he buries himself with her. Might be long, I'm working on condensing. It's coming along a LOT better than the mouse family bullshit I had going on. It's coming a lot more naturally this time.
Dumbledore's Army recorded a song and my luscious headphones broke. So I'm heartbroken and need to get new ones. *TEARS*
Blahblahblah, more talking.
If you want to hear a 30-second sample of a song I'm working on with horrible sound quality, you can visit here:
I wish sometimes that I could write forever on a scroll and just let everything in my head flow out, every last thought. So then when I die, my life would be transcribed onto a 10,000 foot long piece of paper, a complete thought process. But then again, carrying around that piece of paper would kind of be a pain in the arse and it would turn into an obligation pretty quickly. But the thought of just writing everything that passes through my head at all times, so it would be immortal: it's nice in concept. This blog'll do.
I'm wearing a dress on Friday. Forgot about that.
And I have some article write-ups to do for history.
Testing period's fast approaching, and I'm still
managing to procrastinate and do as little as possible.
But sometimes, I think writing about nothing (i.e. this) takes
priority over more important things.
Is that sad?
very sad, very sad.
take the edge RIGHT off.'
new song in the worx.
But what I do have is a bit of an interesting thing going on that I'm gonna kind of keep to myself. That's about as cryptic as I can get. It's essentially a folky song, since I really want to start writing more stuff like that, since it's more up my alley to do more folky things. And it has a nice little twist at the end. Hopefully I remember how to play it, since when I finally hit a groove, I forget how to play the groove, and, ergo, I lose said groove. Makes me sad. Probably write some mo' lyrics tomorrow.
Nearly done with You Look Like A Freemason now, I just had a semi-major epiphany where you get a lot more sound from the piano if there's one, centered track instead of two piano tracks set in both channels. At least, it works in headphones. I still have to test this with the speakers. But if it works with speakers, I'm gonna just boost up the piano a little more and then I'll be done.
I'll probably make it available via myspace or bandcamp, or I could post an accompanying music video on YouTube. Many a possibility, but I'm not even there yet.
Just heard a story about a child who, under his father's supervision, was an air traffic controller and gave commands to a couple of flights. The FAA fired the father. Adults ruining kid's fun, like always. Why do we need to be this... correct? All the time? The father was there, he told the kid exactly what to say, the kid said it exactly as he was told, and nothing went wrong. He obviously wasn't going to let the kid permanently take his position in the first place. Do we really need to be this strict all the time? Stupid FAA. Stupid Fox News for making that it's top story. I blame everyone for this.
God be with you 'til we meet again.
by his counsels guide, uphold you, with his sheep securely fold you; God be with you till we meet again.
never ending math equation by modest mouse. song of the day.
the universe works on a math equation that never even ever really even ends in the and infinity spirals out creation we're on the tip of it's tongue and it is saying well we ain't sure where you stand you ain't machines and you ain't land and the plants and the animals they are land and the plants and the animals eat each other.
I'm holding off on doubling up on blog posts.
mostly because i'm filled up on
america's favorite poison.
can i take your order?
they say at the counter
and at the ER.
sleep's sounding good right now.
think i'll get to
normalness, clear thinking in the tomorrow.
Thursday night, I lost power because of that windstorm. Four loooong days without power later, and here I am at the Nesbit's, finally getting around to updating this blog.
During the time I was out of commission, I read Ulysses (on page 144/732), played a small amount of piano, attended my dad's 50th birthday party, went out to eat, did some homework. Nothing extravagant. I felt like I was near death with that cough I was complaining about, but after cough drops and about 30 types of medicine, I'm finally feeling alright again. Last night, I went up to a hotel with my parents to get out of the miserable conditions we were in, since they were already planning on going up north for my dad's 50th at this time. The room had a jacuzzi in it. that was out of sight, dynomite. I came back down into town today and now I'm at the Nesbit's while my parents headed back up north for another night.
To compensate for the fact that I missed 3 days of blogging, I'm gonna do two-a-day starting tomorrow. Right now, I'm not really in a position to do so since I'm at someone's house and I have a lot of homework that I need to get on to doing. But this is just to let you know that I'm still alive. And when you're dying I'll still be alive.