| Don't blame the stations when they play you like a fool |
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| friday nights |
[02 Nov 2007|08:39pm] |
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mood |
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not amused |
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music |
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KEXP |
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This marks my 6th straight hour in the photo lab.
My contacts are blurring,
my stamina is fading rapidly,
and until half an hour ago, my bladder was on a sure path towards explosion.
The things we do for our art.
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| Oh how they laugh at fools, knowing not they are, all the time, laughing at themselves. |
[13 Apr 2007|11:49pm] |
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music |
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Low-Drums and Gunes |
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It 's hugely interesting how we change. Physical stagnation, I am pleased to say, has hardly hindered my mental evolution. Things by which I used to define my life now quietly fade into a backround that I no longer have any care for. And that's a great thing to say. Conversations, groups, people, happenings all so tied to my happiness before, which would have caused my heart to break before, I now regard only with a mild sense of humor and irony. I've graduated, mentally, from the shit. High five for the good times. Self-possession is so pleasant.
And though self-narration has never been my strong point, there is often a need to express, free of the metaphor and languid dexterity of prose or fiction, exactly what one feels the moment in which they feel it. Mind to page. Although, in doing so, as all humans mostly experience at least partially the same things, and as the youth of my generation continue their journey inward to depths of inrtoversion previously considered unreachable, it is admittably hard to actually write the unwritten. Cliche has become a status symbol. Yet what is there to do. Just because feeling has become cliche does not negate its existance.
I have to swallow my pride, my trepidation associated with penning the same sentiments surging from the hands, posted on the sites, whispered in the ears of EVERYONE ELSE.
I'll just have to get over that one, I guess.
It's petty to refrain from expression just because it's being forcefed back to you in little technicolor vials, the blue ribbon special of this disposable culture.
Every week's a different flavor, and each more excessive than the next. By the time monday rolls around, our eyes sagging from the weight of this cultural saturation, we have forgotten last week's great crisis', last week's scandals, last week's super stars.
It's simple physics.
The velocity at which we are seiged with information is simply to high to result in rention.
We become seives, screen doors through which the years pass.
and that's just how it goes, I guess.
As for me, for by whatever difference I attempt to puport meyself, I realize that I'm just as much of a screen as anyone.
So there's that.
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[05 Mar 2007|09:38am] |
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I went to Spokane for the first time in 6 and a half months.
To see Grease
and to see Juanita off.
and it was good,
but it was also thoroughly heart wrenching.
It's amazing how many shadows of one's past are apt to show up at the Satellite Diner at 1 in the morning.
and then i ate french toast, and it was wonderful french toast.
To the entire cast, you did a wonderful job. It was so great to see you guys, I love you all dearly.
so it goes.
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| Good Music Brings Far too much Introversion |
[02 Mar 2007|04:20am] |
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I was remprimanded for doing my laundry at 3 in the morning.
What's so wrong with doing laundry at three in the morning?
It's as logical a time to do laundry as any other time of the day.....
I suppose it just throws people off....or puts them ill at ease.
It's like a drug trip or a neon funeral home sign............
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| Knives of summertime |
[22 Feb 2007|09:40pm] |
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music |
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you can guess.... |
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I've thought quite a bit today in the prolonged absences of organized productivity.
and I still don't know a fucking thing.
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[07 Feb 2007|09:47am] |
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music |
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cLAP YOUR HANDS |
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Today, she vowed,
today would mark the beginning of a new era.......
......the era......
OF EMPLOYMENT!!!!!
TODAY IS THE DAY......OH YES.....TODAY IS THE DAY
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[28 Jan 2007|09:08pm] |
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Nothing is ever good. It's either fucked or unoriginal of completely hopeless.
Nothing is ever simple. Youth mandates far too much obligatory and insurpassable emotional baggage for anything to ever be as it appears.
Nothing goes to plan. As hard as anyone tries, everything is enevitably destroyed, rewritten, reversed. It will never happen like you wanted it to.
Nothing is ever nice. It's selfishly motivated, or greedily wished and all of it merely for self-betterment.
Nothing is ever fair.............................. and it never will be.
But we musn't dwell.........................................................
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[27 Jan 2007|12:04am] |
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Right now,
as in from this moment on,
I promise to stop whoring myself out to people who don't care about me.
Do you ever think that everthing is about self-fulfillment?
We go to such unimaginable lengths to do things that we think,.......that we are absolutely sure will make us happy.
But there's a reason why we are a civilization built over the potholes of disenchantment
and people can only take so much let down.
Besides, martyred solitude lends itself to me.
I can't make sense of much, but this is the one absolute,
we'll never be free of ourselves.......as much as we hate, mock and scar them.
That's what I know.
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| This Plum is Too Ripe..... |
[16 Jan 2007|09:53pm] |
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mood |
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 blank |
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music |
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Tindersticks |
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i feel hollow.
Careless.
Indifferent yet strangely mournful.
But not suprised......................
..........while simultaneously never going according to plan, life has a way of constantly living up to your lowest expectations.
I need a new crowd.
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| You've Changed. |
[01 Jan 2007|07:51pm] |
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music |
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elliott smith |
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I have terrific memories, that much I can say.
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[11 Dec 2006|10:54pm] |
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music |
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pensées noir |
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It hurt.
I won't say that it didn't.
I grow weary of this marathon towards the unattainable.
Maybe i'm just tired of getting ditched.
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| {[and I try so hard darling]} |
[04 Dec 2006|06:05pm] |
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mood |
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very, very cold |
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music |
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Clientele, The |
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In the silence of the garden
Moss arising on the wind
And the beast is pondering love love love
'Till the rusty nail grow dim
I can't seem to make you mine
Through the long and lonely night
And I try so hard, darling
But the crowd pulled you away
Through the rhythm and the rain
And the ivy coiled around my hand
So I lingered with the people
In the silent August glade
But the rain has brought the night
And the night has brought the rain
and this is how I feel at 4:00
dark as it is
cold, now, more so.
being held against my will to stare down what I would just assume ignore.
life, the future, you.
I won't be a bother though, just quietly watch.
And you stare, I see you, I know you do. Right past.
and what i wouldn't give to end this relentless numbness because i can't feel my fingers, though I know they're there.
my apologies to all those currently suffering through my company, because I'm really not a part of you. And that's just fine.
Being alone, you know, such a stigma.
Emptiness isn't bad, infact, sometimes, if you listen closely, you can hear your own thoughts reverberating in the vacancy.
What it is, it isn't up to me
I've been driving in my car
On Sunday in the rain
And my life is slipping so away
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| Holiday |
[25 Nov 2006|11:21am] |
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I am completely enamored with bottle caps.
They just possess a kind wide-eyed-kid, 1950's-picture-perfect-Coca-cola-spokes-family charm, and I'm moved to feel almost sad on the day, hovering somewhere in the not-too-distant future, when they are finally eradicated from this earth. Like most things i've held dear to my heart, their time on the chopping block is bound to be sooner rather than later. And why not, if you think about it? What are these cumbersome, blister-inducing, caps-of-pain really adding to contemporary society? Just about as much as coffee and talk radio, I suspect.
I bet no one would even notice.
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| I didn't want to hurt you, I'm just a jealous guy..... |
[03 Nov 2006|12:10am] |
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mood |
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far too jaded for one so young |
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music |
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Needle in the Hay |
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I really hate you sometimes.
With your conversations and
your stupid laughter.
and your happiness,
I resent you for that the most.
I hate you now, and I'm tapping my fingers and letting the caffeine give way to fits of muscular spasm, and trying not to think about it because god knows that you're not thinking about me.
and i stay up all the time seeking some new and uncharted horizon for artistic endeavors, but mostly they fall short. I mean why should I even try, right? I'm obviously not, "amazing." Nor do I think I have ever been, nor do I intend to be...
I would say that I'm content with being disgruntedly witty and verbosely pessimistic........oh....now you've done it. You've gone and caught me off gaurd. Generally one requires time to gather strength and prepare for a rant of such concentrated vindiction, but here I am, completely and utterly taken by suprise.
I blame you of course.
Playing the unappreciated scholar is fun in the beginning.
You'd be suprised though,
it gets old.
I hate using word such as "like," cool" "awesome, "holla back"
I don't know why I say them.
I don't particularly like them and they make me sound like an ass....
still all your fault, of course
enough.
I'll cut out my tounge and break off the tops of my fingers to keep me from freely espousing all that's in my head when I really know that the only one reading this is me and that I shouldn't waste my damn time.
That's right, jen.
You should know better.
I really should, it would save me the coffee.
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| We really are just blind people. |
[02 Nov 2006|06:10pm] |
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mood |
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drizzly |
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music |
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Rose Parade |
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but this day has really been all about death. It's raining too. How apropos.
None of it's simple. You would think that the human race, being the wonderfully versitile and astute beings that we are, would have accepted death by now, in this our, what, whateverthousandth year on the p[lanet. You would think this, but that's God's little trick, because it still hurts like hell.
Someone dies and the worse part, sometimes worse than being close to the one who died, because I've been on both ends, is being the friend of the one who is.
"My dad is dead Jen, he died."
What do you say to that?
It's two weeks to christmas and now Bri is fatherless and what can I say?
How does one acurately convey sympathy? a card? flowers? that's utter bullshit and you know it. and I hate it.
My mom's paying bills. She starts to talk about Christmas,spending it with her mother who is gradually being killed by cancer. She starts to cry. and I just sit there.
I'm her daughter, her child, and I just sit there.
The thought of me losing my mom, to me, is unfathomable and, not that I won't miss my grandmother, because I will, and because I love her, but god. To lose your mother. What can say to her? I have to be here, to go with her through this unrelenting grief, and I'm completely at a loss of how to handle it.
and I'm scared.
But, as it's easiest to ignore the enevitable until it's clinging to your limbs, I have work to do.
Night.
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[27 Oct 2006|04:26pm] |
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mood |
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counting the cars |
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[Show tonight.]
[characteristically my favorite.]
[we shall see.]
[KAthy I'm lost, I said, though I knew she was sleeping.]
]I'm empty and aching]
[and i don't know why]
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| Yes, I am here. |
[18 Jun 2006|11:07pm] |
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mood |
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perceptive |
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music |
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Simon and Garfunkel |
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oh my. It's been such a long time. I am alive, still, against all odds, however. Yes. Many things are different, but it's all okay, somehow. I will be in Spokane this week and it will be good.
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[10 Dec 2005|02:56pm] |
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mood |
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 pleased |
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music |
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crystal skulls-beat me to it |
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So, going to a concert tonight. This amazing band from Seattle called the CRYSTAL SKULLS have chosen to play in Kennewick????? Anyway, oh, I also got cast in Guys and Dolls...........as Hot Box Dancer #5 but it's really okay, seeing as how all the girls who aren't Adelaide and Sarah or Mission girls, are hot boxers. So yeah. That's about all.
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[30 Nov 2005|07:06pm] |
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god-damnnnit
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