sometimes life throws you curveballs... sometimes i wish i was. somewhere...else. sometimes i wonder what the fuck one o'clock in the morning entails anyway. sometimes. sometimes i play air guitar, piano, and drums. sometimes i meditate and i feel better. sometimes i try to meditate and feel worse. sometimes i eat a sandwich and get heart burn. sometimes i eat the empty bottle and get glass stuck between my teeth. and then my gums are bleeding.
sometimes i feel like saying sometimes. sometimes. my headphones are glued to my skull.. all the time. every moment frozennnnnnn. i need to be up at 7:05 am. 7:06 if I'm feeling lucky. i will hold my breath on the train because it's good luck. over the bridge to ambiguity. brreeeeaaathhheeee eeeeaassssyyy. believe me, im a one hit wonder if that. if that. if that.
if.
that.
can i borrow twenty bucks? ....fumbling through my pockets i knuckle a couple crumbs. a quarter. and a lighter. a ballpoint pen. a tumbleweeeeeed.
monday morning in march.. it's raining rusty thumbtacks. in a city where glossy gumstains is nature at its grandest. my coffeee is cold. i think. but maybe my tongue is numb. the bass is beeeellllllllooooowwwww sea level. i love it. yum yum. muffin.
apology accepted. except. id.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
thinking critically
not everything they tell you on the television is true..children of this united states of blatant disregard. If I'm lucky the earth is flat like my senses.. and fox news is the shittiest compilation of supposedly relevant and unbiased information this side of my sanity..
i think im in love again. that's the third time in two weeks. I have nightmares on wax, but i daydream on cds. Im rambling..ok. lets get to the point.
....Think critcally. Please. what I'm trying to say is, your professor is not a prophet. if your going to pay good dinero for an kollidge egukashion you better damn well pay attention. at the very least. please. question everything you read, see, hear, smell, and observe. whether it is embedded in cambridge edited text or written on the walls of your favorite bathroom stall..question every bit of information for what it's worth. I'm not asking you to be that obnoxiously pedantic motherfucker in the third row who sits far enough away from the front to play it cool, but close enough to stick his dumb grill in every sentence seeping from your lecturer's lips. Dont be a jerk.. im just sayin. Engage yourself. By being actively involved you will process more knowledge. and knowledge can move mountains. any idiot can move a milk carton.... im just sayin.
I'm speaking to myself really. i've been told that all good writers are writing for one person and one person only. whether it's your dog, your mother in law, or your mail man. if you try to write for more than one person, nobody gets the point and everybody loses. today i am writing for me. so fuck you. pardon my language, i happen to be a very passionate individual. and fuck is a very passionate word. hence, i use it often.
when i grow up i wish to be a child. I would like to be a toys are us middle aged man. but i got overdue bills to pay and nothing is ever exactly what it seems. matter of fact it's usually ridiculously different. For example.. time is not real. it is not 8:51PM on a Sunday right now. it is anytime on everyday youve ever known to exist. i dont believe in history books or fortune tellers. Everything is in the now. Then is tomorrow. and tomorrow is genesis.
does that make me crazy? perhaps. But Dick Cheney doesnt believe in Global Warming. apparantly it's a myth. well, this automobile runs on alcohol, caffeine, and pink floyd remastered. so, i like to think im doing my part. i recyle my Metro everyday goddamnit. god... damn... it. well, as long as we dont beat him to it....
i think im in love again. that's the third time in two weeks. I have nightmares on wax, but i daydream on cds. Im rambling..ok. lets get to the point.
....Think critcally. Please. what I'm trying to say is, your professor is not a prophet. if your going to pay good dinero for an kollidge egukashion you better damn well pay attention. at the very least. please. question everything you read, see, hear, smell, and observe. whether it is embedded in cambridge edited text or written on the walls of your favorite bathroom stall..question every bit of information for what it's worth. I'm not asking you to be that obnoxiously pedantic motherfucker in the third row who sits far enough away from the front to play it cool, but close enough to stick his dumb grill in every sentence seeping from your lecturer's lips. Dont be a jerk.. im just sayin. Engage yourself. By being actively involved you will process more knowledge. and knowledge can move mountains. any idiot can move a milk carton.... im just sayin.
I'm speaking to myself really. i've been told that all good writers are writing for one person and one person only. whether it's your dog, your mother in law, or your mail man. if you try to write for more than one person, nobody gets the point and everybody loses. today i am writing for me. so fuck you. pardon my language, i happen to be a very passionate individual. and fuck is a very passionate word. hence, i use it often.
when i grow up i wish to be a child. I would like to be a toys are us middle aged man. but i got overdue bills to pay and nothing is ever exactly what it seems. matter of fact it's usually ridiculously different. For example.. time is not real. it is not 8:51PM on a Sunday right now. it is anytime on everyday youve ever known to exist. i dont believe in history books or fortune tellers. Everything is in the now. Then is tomorrow. and tomorrow is genesis.
does that make me crazy? perhaps. But Dick Cheney doesnt believe in Global Warming. apparantly it's a myth. well, this automobile runs on alcohol, caffeine, and pink floyd remastered. so, i like to think im doing my part. i recyle my Metro everyday goddamnit. god... damn... it. well, as long as we dont beat him to it....
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
music is my messiah
God bless the remix.. It's what keeps my headache plagued Q train AM commutes sweetly calm and clean. Although i like my music messy, my playlist eventually cracks a cornerstone moment..aka, everyone's favorite Ms Jones in the morning regular head banger. Although I don't condone making love in the club ill give in every now and then to a sensual seduction.
Today ive listened to Tabacco's recent release featuring Aesop Rock about 33 1/2 times and it hasnt gotten old. When it ends again, I'll run it back because i savor the synths. Ridiculous. My favorite author and artist Kurt Vonnegut once said the only proof he needed to know that God did indeed exist was music. Mr. Vonnegut has surely shaken the hand of God one early evening last April and thanked him for his favorite Beatles record. And I thank him for Timequake.
Look mom, I'm a writer. I keep my sneakers clean and I brush my teeth twice a day. How delicious. I drink an iced mocha daily and i like sweet and salty kettlecorn.
35 and counting. " this is not your parents' bio-organic war." Amen.
Think critcally because the warning on the carton isnt always correct. I smoked a ciggarette yesterday because i spoke with my ex-girlfriend and she got me stressed about life. i bummed it off a beautiful bird outside of bloomingdales....and by the time i reached the filter i got her number and i forgot about my ex-girlfriend. The moral of the story is that ciggarettes work every time. Until they kill you. Wait no, especially when they kill you. what could be more zen then the afterlife?
37 times. i think. today feels like spring but somehow my knuckles are still ashey. i have shit to do now. so music (my messiah) willing, i will visit this, my space on the web wide, again soon.
Until then...
Today ive listened to Tabacco's recent release featuring Aesop Rock about 33 1/2 times and it hasnt gotten old. When it ends again, I'll run it back because i savor the synths. Ridiculous. My favorite author and artist Kurt Vonnegut once said the only proof he needed to know that God did indeed exist was music. Mr. Vonnegut has surely shaken the hand of God one early evening last April and thanked him for his favorite Beatles record. And I thank him for Timequake.
Look mom, I'm a writer. I keep my sneakers clean and I brush my teeth twice a day. How delicious. I drink an iced mocha daily and i like sweet and salty kettlecorn.
35 and counting. " this is not your parents' bio-organic war." Amen.
Think critcally because the warning on the carton isnt always correct. I smoked a ciggarette yesterday because i spoke with my ex-girlfriend and she got me stressed about life. i bummed it off a beautiful bird outside of bloomingdales....and by the time i reached the filter i got her number and i forgot about my ex-girlfriend. The moral of the story is that ciggarettes work every time. Until they kill you. Wait no, especially when they kill you. what could be more zen then the afterlife?
37 times. i think. today feels like spring but somehow my knuckles are still ashey. i have shit to do now. so music (my messiah) willing, i will visit this, my space on the web wide, again soon.
Until then...
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