A little black book

I hereby declare that I officially have one day off per week. It's like a crazy little black book took hold of me with a tenacious grip and held me fastidiously in place to some how create some order in the incredibly unorganized lifestyle I lead. I'm jealous of the heady misanthropist who bleeds human hate. They have no friends to speak of, no compassion in their bones to listen to the effervescing dramatics of everything around them that I feed off as though it were the plentiful tit of a mother, but they're still happy to be by themselves. Sometimes I just want to be alone. None the less, I would die without my friends, and their continual support of me, and I'm not quite sure how I'd keep moving moving moving without her near me with me around me. It wouldn't be easy to give it all up, so I just won't. Right now my little black book says I should be waking up.

What could you do with a few extra turns of that shorter hand on the clock. What could I do could I wish could I accomplish. I could create art, talk to people, have friends for more than an hour on a monday night and that would be nice. That would be good that would be nice. I can't do anything justice with ten minutes to type a love letter or a friend letter or an acquaintence letter. I get up earlier just to write this blog just to write my thoughts just to share myself. Could I play it over over over in my head with the record that took all my thoughts and melded them. Could it spin till it melts over me and lets me know the strangley comforting euphoria of memory. Oh no no no can't succomb to memory. Keep going. Right now my little black book tells me I should be out for a run.

I don't necessarily want to leave things to allow myself a little more valence because I love the things I do. I want to dialate time and make it worth more worth much worth my time. If time could just take itself and stretch it's essence upon a table of porcelain pleased. The sound of heavy breathing and the kiss of sin won't even be near me because I simply can't find the time to allow it to press itself up against me. Can't find time time time. Right now, my little black book says I should be writing this blog. I wish I could defy go against and pledge myself in protest of this terribly structur-ous thing.

I know how you felt now. The intense fear and stress that comes from rolling out of control into a routine with each and every moment of truly being. And I'm sorry.

I know what it is to miss you so much Julianna. I can't write the words that I want to in every moment of the day to you now simply because our cell phones won't allow it. I wish wish wish I could always talk to you and always hear your voice on the other end of electricity. I'd be excentric I'd be mad I'd be foolish to think you could always be directly here at my side and in my arms but how I wish it. I miss you too much to only see you, on a garunteed basis, once a week. Once a week. that's not nearly enough to do anything is it? Right now my little black book says I should be getting ready for school.

So my clock come to your feet. Twist yourself around this crutch and let me cripple you so that you move with a limp. So that you move with such a terribly injured gait that I may have two extra three extra any extra hours in my short and unfulfilling day. I'll keep moving at the same pace to clear the path ahead of you but let me be ahead of you. Time time time just let me keep infront of your hands. Let me stay out of your reach and I'll reward you I'll give to you I'll let you be all you want for just two more hours precious time. Dialate now or forever will something rotten keep me from eluding the clutching hands of a thousand routines eager to set it. Right now my little black book says I should be in a torrent of events bleeding me into nothing but a maleable shell. Right now my little black book is burning.

Hello

I find it completely and utterly necessary to title this blog as it is titled. Hello. Hello Hello Hello. This is my way of saying this blog will be entirely completely most definitly personal with some one. I probably told them it was about them prior to writing it. In fact I did tell them. This does not mean, however, that you can't see something from it from me to you. So right now don't click back or spam the backspace key in the address bar to clear it for some more interesting content like redtube, just listen. Listen. No not like that, you're not listening right. Listen. Really.

To fully understand all these things all those things and many of that thing you'll have to understand the prerequisits you so amazingly and fullfill-edly met upon meeting me. Oh wait we're moving too fast already in this frenzied gait of explanation-atude. This prerequisits aren't just for me my dear my love my little shnookum-zi-poopsie-pants, they're for almost all of my friends if they'll allow me to so willing speak for them. I would have fallen deeply and utterly mostly infatuated with you even had you not met my friends prerequisits but you did so I give you no worry as to what they think of you given some small public gathering for I can assure you. They love you too.

Moving on

Not much time to be completely honest. I have to restrict myself withhold myself some how keep myself in a space of time. For if I could expel all the reasons I have found myself completely and entirely taken with you, the internet would become over loaded and much too hefty to stream pornography at the quick and perverted rate most people desire of it. Let's go back, back to the beginning to the place where we met.

Matt Porters. Matt Porter reminds me of music reminds me of singing reminds me of your head on my chest. It reminds me of the soft ''mmhmm'' you so cutely and innocently utter in the space following something a tad more guilty. Careful careful careful, remind me to not let too many people know what we do in our spare time. Still Listening?  good. 

My voice carries over a nice little friendly little jovial little thermal in the bustling air. So rushed, why not wait and hear my love story. Oh well at least some one's still listening to me. Or are there. No less, I'll keep on like a rambler ramb-ibler. Beyond Matt's house everything reminds me of the pre-pre-pre dating. We were friends and you were a doesn't do the boyfriend girlfriend thing. But you were so much cooler than me that I needed it so bad to your friend. I'm glad you were a doesn't do the boyfriend thing now, it made everything work out like it was supposed to.

The best way to get on my parents friends siblings cousins good sides is to talk. And you do it! So stop worrying silly it only makes you seem quieter. The reason they like you to talk is because the last one didn't talk. She didn't do much of anything to completely and entirely honest but I digress as this is degrading the chapter at hand.

Your house your house your house your dog. It all reminds me of you reminds me of love reminds me of the nice smelling candles that mommy used to use to cover up the pinesol. No no no not because I think you smell like pinesol but because it reminds me of that crazy carefree and innocent times when I was younger. You instill such abandon in me thank you thank you so so so so so so so so so so much. Are those enough SOs? Are you still listening?

You can stop listening now to be completely honest because I have to go eat supper and teach little kids the proper way to do doop do doop do doop through a nirvana song for the eighth week in a row. Eighth. Funny word. Meanwhile. You can read this over again. I love you :)

Syntax Error

Maybe you noticed and maybe you didn't.

I've started avoiding entirely proper grammar and it's brother entirely proper syntax. Quite frankly, following proper syntax all the time is for english class for resumés for uninterested reading. Syntax is taxing. So I'm becoming a writing anomaly that fits into a mould that's already been established. Technically I'm not an anomaly any more but those are technical-ical technicalities. I want to think of myself as something entirely and incredibly original creative inspired. This is all semantics to make you think I'm all high and mighty in myself and my words. But technical-ical technicalities make this not even semantics. So I guess I'm just being cocky with words. You can call these

Cock-words.

I worked out again last night, fell completely victim to the tedium of up down up down up down weight lifting. How satisfying to actually feel my muscles ache and yell again. I never want that feeling of pang pang in my arms to go away. It's the painful feeling of accomplishment. The best way to make a protien shake and make it taste good, is to buy vanilla whey powder, and add it to some ricotta cheese, with blueberries, yogurt, half a banana and some flax seed to make sure it comes out the right end at the right time to save you from a harsh gurgle gurgle when you want it least. So many things to do in one day and this just seems like another commitment for my body to commit to indefinitly. To be skinny.

I don't want to look at the sky any more. That looming depressing thing. Too many symbols spread across it trying to present themselves with some pathetic cloudy arrogance. Float on ye blasted things and don't bother me with your metaphors. Look away. So there's a forest of incredibly strong structural examples for me to follow instead of those pestilent clouds. They're strong like broad shoulders of a good viking maid and I could fall on them if I needed something to fall upon that was strong like a good viking maid. Couldn't be more wrong wrong wrong. You flock there in the forest of brick and stone to find that people have already flocked as best as flockers could in a folking of folk-titude. They want grease they want grease they want grease and some want lightning but most just want so much grease and poor quality.

no more big macs.

So you start looking for solitude-iful solace in people now instead of angry clouds and full forests of people people people. Shazam wham bam boom there's your solace that you've been searching so critically for. How much you'd find in people to keep you warm when it's cold even in the artificially heated atmosphere of your favorite sit down Big Mac Bar. Yes yes yes there's where you can find something that's truly and utterly lean-able. People can be your best friends some times next to dogs because dogs will never talk back. You can tell them your troubles and tell them your troubles and never feel bad or give anything back. Don't even bother trying to break their stoic shell that would be absolutely and entirely retarded. They don't want to have some one to lean on, they just want to have every single human being they've ever opened up to to throw problems at them like tomatoes in Italia.

Did you catch the sarcasm?

No no no people won't do either, so look for solace in a book a game a song a fake something. At least that way whatever it is your using to fake your happiness with it'll stay constant and you can never worry about it stealing your girlfriend. Except World of Warcraft which has a very shocking capability to very well steal your girlfriend, sense of style, sense of reality, sense of being, and sense of non-nerd-iness-atude. Get more and more addicted to it and you'll see but don't see because it's not the right thing to be using to try and take a break through making a fake

I like a stinkin' achin' shake

I like vanilla it's the finest of the flavors.

Come to and end come to an end be the end. I have nothing left to say about this matter any more because I have no faith left in it very much at all to lean on except a nice solid book. My dear and sweet and lovely and beloved cheloveck does give me relief most times though. Nearly every time that I tell her what's wrong she's got solution a b c and f5 right in her pocket ready to blast off for me. So not all people are hopeless.

Just most of them.

Metamorph-ing in a conflagration of

The ocean floor is hidden from my viewing lens, but you're there, the coral on the bottom, just decaying just rotting just dying. I left you there my treasure, in one peice, and here I come to view upon it. Seeing it before reminded me of sad reminded me of depression reminded me of you. Seeing it now reminds me of sick reminds me of loss reminds me of them reminds me of you. Sick sick sick, it's not easy to make sick coral any better when it's on the ocean floor. Do I pick you up? You'd wish of it. Do I watch the luxuriously tacky fish flutter next to you. You'd wish of it. You're sick now, and I'm not miracle doctor. Have fun in your reef with your disco colored fishy air about you and be sick sick sick.

The best way to play a harmonic minor scale, is to use all three of your fingers, and fret each individual note as you do doop do doop do doop up the scale. It's like a ladder, but for your hands, made from wood, certainly not safe. The best way to perform a good sweep pick is to be Jason Becker's former self when he could move. Flutterdy-doo fluttery-doo fluttery-doo. That's what it would sound like if you performed it properly. But to make that exact sound you would have to be Jason Becker's former self as he was when he could move. When you could move. Can you move? Honestly, can you move or are you just sitting there stuck in your chair trying to slooshie the last sounds of your breath escaping from your mouth as you read this. You are now breathing manually.

Come clean with me now, are you really movable. Can you honestly press your soul up against a pane glass window and leave a dark and deepened steam impression on it. Well of course you can't, your soul doesn't have weight doesn't have volume doesn't have heat. But be movable as movable can be when your soul isn't where it sould be. Don't be like giving up. Don't be like wanting everything to be so much easier. For god sakes just move. You have just become aware that your nose never actually leaves your line of sight.

Dum dee dum dee dum dee dum, all down the yellow brick road on a segway with three ears of corn and a heart and a courage and a red slippers. Wait though, are you still moving? Don't forget, you're still breathing manually. Dum dee dum don't forget about the way you could be living if you could live in the spot light and live like everyone else. It's so good to have friends isn't it! It's so fabulous to be loved when you can't love back in the minutes that you spend with yourself. five minutes four minutes three minutes I'm moving again. And for god sakes don't forget to breath. The way I move the way I move the way you move. I wish I could kick back back back and relax in a few brief moments of my day and not be as truthfully and exasperatingly occupied as I am.

In

Out

In

Out

Don't Forget

I've got a book telling me how to move how to study when to move when to jerk off. A little bound little black book. Right now I should be sleeping. Right now I should have finished my homework. According to my book. But I can't sleep.

The Game.

Did you miss a beat, let me get you started again.

In

Out

In

The Recording Process

We, the band, started recording our first song a few nights ago. It was something strange to actually get to this point with a group of gentlemen such as my band. We're recording with a couple of friends of ours who're already quite adequet at doing the job, it seems that the career they've chosen in this field is quite well chosen indeed. Our song sounds good, just good. My mind keeps running over the insecurities of it. I can't seem to feel comfortable about the work I've done on the project, it's as though I can't settle with the fact that i'm actually getting along well doing something musically.

I worry, as I hear the product played back to me, that I sound too much like another band. I strive to be original in all the moments I play my instrument, in all the moments I sing and create a new piece of my own art. Playing music like this reminds me of Shallow Roots reminds me of Metal reminds me of Knorm. I miss the ol' goon. He's been so adsent lately. I don't necessarily miss all the things we played, but the kinship is not nearly as present as I wish it were. We referred to each other as brothers in that time and that really keeps me on my toes. Knorms somewhat an overreaction sometimes though, which is hard to deal with sometimes.

Other than recording, lately I've been having bursts of willpower, initiative to get along and do things more than I used to. To play guitar is to be for me, so to want to keep playing rigorously as I have been is to be more rigorous than I can be. I want to keep pushing myself though, it seems much more worth it now that we've got a solid sound nailed down. Quinn agreed to be our rythm guitar player. Thank God. We needed a close friend to be in the mix with all of us. I liked Ben I like Ben I wish it could have worked out but there's too many things to do for all of our lifes to syncronize. Original Original Original keep moving.

Music

I want to be the one on everyone's CD player someday. To be omnipresent in the world of all people. Who knows, it may be a goal within reach these days, though I feel doubtful upon that guesstimation. Keep it moving though. Keep pumping out those choons.

The Mighty Fighty Shushbugs, we are.

Bleeding me Home

It's surprising that I should be so entertained in the presence of my younger cousin. It was only three years ago, or a few days more, that I was not interested in her in even the slightest way, yet now our friendship has evolved into something more than most friendships or cousin-ships do in just the short time of a three year span. I've done more in this week, partied, shopped, galavanted if you will, than I ever have. It's like this part of my family allows me some temporary release from the monotonous routine that I always seem to fall into as part of my life. They've even made me want to try polyphasic sleep again. But maybe not....

I've decided to tell you a little bit about how my ''life changing'' is going. I've got the initiative to start running again, and it's helped, I've had a couple small jogging session lately. My family being here, and being awake until three o'clock each morning does put a slight splinter in working out, lifting weights ect. but I'm sure that that will return to me as my routine comes back together. I've also opened a new savings account. I'm chastized almost constantly about my self centered spending. It's not my fault. I have money, I spend money. SO I've decided to transfer AT LEAST 50% of each paycheck into this low interest savings account, and praying for it to build up in time to make me some money for university.

Money Saving ideas

Bring lunch to work instead of buying it.

Borrow Games from friends when I feel the urge.

Buy books from the bargain bin, stories are timeless, they'll get to the bin eventually.

Ask for things as a gift for my birthday or christmas, they're never THAT far away.

Pay for less movies, be more extreme in sneaking ability

Okay, so my plans aren't foolproof, but I think I'll have a little bit of a head start onto the wagon with all of this willpower I suddenly have. Just have to keep it rolling, keep it going, keep it up homeslice. I dunno, hopefully all this will become an unstoppable boost of will that will keep me parading through richness and good health until I graduate in four months.

I graduate in four months.

Dear god.