Lament of the FUPA

Sat, 19 Mar 2005 07:25:24 GMT

I wonder if I wrote something in this livejournal, everyday, could i read it in 50 years?
I wonder if I'd laugh at the utterly pathetic shallow depth of my thoughts and emotions. and cringe at the pompousness of it all, and that other p word that i can't remember. pretensious...can spell either.
or would i turn it into a beautiful memory, embelish it and think back to smells and emotions to validate whatever happened since.
or will it be lost in a fiery inferno when the whole world, internet included goes down in flames
or will i not make it to those 50 years
or will i not care about looking back
or does writing every day not allow you to let enough time pass to look back
would consciously mapping my every move detain me from growing
last may i wrote of epiphanies of god and quality that i had forgotten until tonight
it seems a farse
maybe writing would just remind me how inconsistent i've really been, as if there'll be no growth cuz i couldn't stick with anything long enough to affect me
who knows
i dont know

Wed, 29 Sep 2004 02:49:58 GMT

So I'm in Chile. And im posting on my live journal. I AM A LOSER. no, well yes, but no because it's kinda late and im tired as hell and don't feel like reading anymore spanish, and my family is all gone so i am home alone with nothing to do and i can't drink until friday night because of my druuuuuuuugggggsssss for my enfermedad. I decided to go to the north as opposed to the south. i'll be living in arica for 4 days and then the altiplano for the rest...it'll be cool there are lotsa cool deserts and high altitude lakes that we're gonna check out and we'll be learning a lot about anthropology and i'll use some of that the arquealogical stuff in my study of chilean graffiti and hip hop culture in santiago in youth social movements. i was going to go south and study the mapuche and their cosmovison BUT i decided against, cuz something is telling me to go north...i'll go to the south on my own after the program. i think it'll be cool to live in santiago and get to know some graffiti artists and activists and such, im excited for my research to begin...i started contacting people already but i dont' really start until november. This weekend im going to santiago to see some cuban hip hop group called something with an o but i forget what, organica? i forget, they're supposed to be real good. and i'll probably just stay in santiago on my own all weekend and drink lots of escudo to make up for all the time i've been sober here. i sound like an alcoholic, but my goodness alcohol has been such a nice escape here...i mean it's all been great, but sometimes i just need a drink. ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm yeah maybe this journal thing just isn't gonna happen for a while still...i think i need to be much more bored to do this. ciao.

Wed, 04 Aug 2004 16:27:48 GMT

Mon, 26 Jul 2004 03:50:03 GMT

been having thoughts that are my own so im gonna hold on to them and polish them a bit before passing them on to you because it's the thoughts that belong to me rather than a version of someone else's that are worth expressing, so hold tight, not that you're waiting and not that i can guarantee i will deliver and not that when and if i do deliver that it will have been worth the wait that you weren't having, but anyway, i'll be back.

listen to The University

im going camping starting thursday night ending sunday afternoon.

Wed, 14 Jul 2004 16:53:51 GMT

http://www.froufrou.net/home.htm

check it out.

luke kalteaux is doing a documentary on us bicycle safety patrollers, i think it is going to be hilarious.

The proper way to use a form of the word retard to refer to a mentally challenged person is to refer to them as a "retardate" not a retard, but the word in general can be avoided quite easily.

A resurrectionist is a person who steals bodies from the grave in order to sell them for dissection, or a body snatcher.

Nicole, who i used to work with finally responded to my email. i had the dream about her and jajaida who i also used to work with so i emailed her. she had another baby, and the godparents are jajaida and pam who i also worked with. im happy that she responded because i was afraid she was going to be another fatality due to a loss of contact. im happy about this.

lunch. bye.

i've gotta purge a bit, feel free not to read but i just feel like im full of shit

Tue, 13 Jul 2004 21:56:15 GMT

allow yourself to have fun
because when you are pouring the water from the pail into the bucket sometimes you won't hear the sound of it hitting the bottom so you'll stick your head down the hole peering as deeply as you can only to reemerge with a lobster attached to one ear lobe and a diamond apple in your mouth
and your eyes will spin circles communicating conceit to alllll that surround you but really you'll just be trying to reconnect the internal universe with that of the outside. last night someone reached down my throat grabbed hold of my heart and turned me inside out and no it wasn't malevolent and it wasn't careless but it wasn't intentional either, it was an extreme version of a slap in the face from the reality committee and now im standing here in a plaster encasement melting into myself. Secret obsessions shared inside a geometric globe confirmed the wonderful absuridty surrounding the union of two spectacularly derranged poets. Everything clearly makes much less sense now and yet that gives it an authenticity that can't be found in things that are easily produced.

Remember when i said i didn't believe in God? Well maybe i never said it, but you could see it in my face. And you could see it in my despair. I've realized i've been wrong all along. I didn't want to believe in God because it excused me. The unfair absurdity of the abusive nature that life often chooses to take became my scapegoat. "it's not me, it's everything else" "i do not need to change because it's the world that's insane". Now i realize that i can't subtract myself from life, im as much a part of the problem as anyone else and when you die part of me dies and your success is mine. And i used to be sad when i was alone, and i sucked relationships like a 67 foot tall vampire sucks the vein of a virgin because the purpose of these relationships was for my own benefit. Love was what i could get out of you, and love was how long i could make it last because yours was all i had. Today i think im less alone than ever before and even though sometimes there may be no person persay by my side i realize that my belief has come to be the foundation i've always been lacking.

I used to take drugs because i believed if i took enough it would unlock some sort of world or perspective that i couldn't find on my own. but the times that i've taken these drugs have been the times that i've felt more numb than ever. a moderate amount of alcohol can buy the close contact that social conventions often disallow, i won't deny that. but the other stuff, that stuff so many people love to crush up and smoke and put in pipes and sing songs about has done nothing but blind me to the beauty of the reality that surrounds me. God, i don't care what my justification was, and im not angry at myself for ever making these mistakes, and im not even sure i'd call them that, but i've wasted time, and that's the tragedy.

my ignorance and passivity are my two greatest flaws. Fear is my worst enemy. i've never regretted an action or decision. yes i've chosen wrong ones but the only time i've felt regret was when i've done nothing. last night i bragged about my passion. true, maybe i have got some fire burning inside me that often drives me to the edge of insanity, but my failure to let it out and explode myself into action is disgusting. it makes me want to vomit.

i wish i could have seen a long time ago how ridiculous i've been acting. i dont' understand how i've allowed myself to fall back into this, and my new constitution is to kill this part of me. i think there was a purpose to having this, it was to teach me my potential, and now that i've come to see what i can do, i will kill that shell and never look back. it's gone.

im so tired that i feel sick to my stomach. my eyes itch like the lids are made of cotton. and ever muscle aches just a little bit, which is far worse from a healthy soreness. but im glad im here. it took this low to give me this new high. i feel like today allowed me to step outside of myself. i tossed myself into the bottom of a deep dark concrete pit with no clothes on, and i stood up on the balcony and saw my fragility and in it found my strength. i needed this low to find my high. i needed a new beginning and i found it. i feel like i can relax now. i found a little bit of peace.

everything is dancing.

and i know these revelations are often hollow, bearing little fruit, but i've tried to kill this before and i lost track of my goals and i've rediscovered it and have gotten back on an old dangerous path, so i'll try some more.

Thu, 08 Jul 2004 05:25:08 GMT

i've done away again with mechanical time
i prefer to keep track of my hours by the drops scurrying down the window in my car
i'm parked in the dark behind a big gray building
i have all these increments of time
to do with what i please
and i've dabbled and experimented and have come to a conclusion
time spent drowning in a bottle is time wasted
and time invested chasing ghosts leaves me lonely
but time spent traversing the creases of a face created by smiles and frowns
has never been regretted

Wed, 07 Jul 2004 18:35:28 GMT

http://www.purevolume.com/limbeck

don't turn around, she's not worth it
i love this song
i feel limbecky today.
goodbye.

Tue, 06 Jul 2004 19:20:50 GMT

on gray painted concrete days
we open haphazard closets
to press our cheeks against dusty skeletons
we contort our faces in funny expressions reacting to the cold of their bones
which contrasts so sharpy against the pillowy warmth that holds our heads up as we drift off to sleep

in the closet death is the ignorable darkness surrounding the hole in the pinhole camera
that marks the passage into the wonderful world of edited memories
inside the chamber
hugs tie no strings between wandering eyes and wandering thoughts
and sun burn and frost bite do not exist

i dont feel like finishing or fixing this...that's all for now. bye.

Thu, 01 Jul 2004 21:55:43 GMT

I can hardly remember now
but it seems important
it was brendan and me driving home in the dead of winter
it was he and i sliding into a snow bank
ending in the softest impact known in the history of collisions
The details are so foggy now but that seems unimportant
it had something to do with a movie
and late at night or early in the morning
and it was brendan and me driving home in the dead of winter
it snowed so much that i felt four years old
and you could barely muster words in that night's cold
it's barely there
but i doubt i'll ever forget it
it was the safest we'll ever be
it was brendan and me driving home in the winter

Thu, 24 Jun 2004 05:39:03 GMT

I'd be lying if i told you i liked the way i feel right now
I'm all in
and all the seats at the table are empty
I'd give anything for a heated argument
even a disappointed look
some kind of contrast to the linoleum floor kind of feeling i've got going right now
I painted my masterpiece
only to have an invisible layer of plastic peeled away
taking the creation with it
More than anything right now
I need to eliminate the "i" in life
my intention not being to eliminate myself
but rather to focus my attention on something else
i want to be secondary to my life for a while
so let us begin
King of Hawaii sits in his wooden frame
Cloaked in riches
the deteriorating body is hidden
ravaged by leperacy
he hides his departure
while others wear it on their sleeves
as they should
wrinkley eyed hero shrinks in her forest green sweat shirt
once held him in her arms
watered him like a plant with her tears
he's grown into a man
now he's to hold her
blonde bobsy twin without a second half
lives across the way
stomach full of pirate booty and misallocated rebellion
sits alone a few feet away
an untwin but friendly face sits across that way
wondering if he could help

shut it bye

Preparation H Dreams

Wed, 23 Jun 2004 05:49:49 GMT

Something about the moon
blah blah blah
they call this love
hello hello hello
goodbye goodbye goodbye
things in the middle
think about it
trim the edges
forget half
alter the other
call it your life
pessemistic man presses keys
easier than the truth

..................
lasst night i dreamt i did cocaine and hallucinated from it and it caused bodily functions to function out of control and then i ran into nicole and jajaida and was so happy to see them, i liked that dream i think that means i wanna contact them.

They Kissed!

Thu, 17 Jun 2004 06:50:31 GMT

What seems to be the trumpeting of the world's largest elephant trunk shakes the floor boards of my light blue 2 story suburban home. My 9 year old eyes jump from the bobbing honey nut cheerios in my white porcelain bowl. I catch the glance of my older sister and begin to giggle because we both know what this sound means. Dad's awake, blowing his nose again. As he walks down the stairs I can smell his shampoo and by the quick beat of his feet on the carpeted staircase can tell he's in a hurry. "gotta go gotta go gotta go go go, see ya later shmooger doogs," he says to my little sister who is feverishly trying to force a cheerio into her small snout-like nose. My mom stands at the kitchen sink washing the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher because "that's the way we do dishes in this house". The two adults quickly go over their plans for the day, my dad lists a series of appointments he has for the day, and my mom lists a series of events scheduled to keep herself from murdering us children. As my dad begins to head for the door he stops in his tracks, turns back to my mom and plants a kiss on her lips. "Thhheeeeeeeeeeeey Kiiiiiisssed!!!!," my sister and i shriek from across the room. My parents laugh at our discomfort with the situation, and my dad grabs his briefcase and heads for the door. My mom goes back to doing the dishes and i set my eyes upon the bobbing cheerios.

At the sound of the closing garage door my mom suddenly turns, "He's gone, let's go." The cheerios in my bowl begin to move toward the middle forming a complete circle around the center cheerio. The center of this middle cheerio turns to black and begins sucking everything in the room through it. I hear a strange grunting noise and notice my younger sister turning to a liquid state and being sucked into the black hole. My mother does the same followed by my older sister and finally myself. The noise of this hole is unbearable and can only be described as a mix of a shrieking baby to the tune of ace of base's "i saw the sign". Finally the noise stops and i regain my vision and some sort of form. I look above, below, to both my sides. Holy fucking shit, I am some sort of kitchen utensil, a spatula i think it's hard to see because my neck it made of wood and refuses to bend. I can however see my mother and sisters have been turned into eggs. God damn it! Mom slipped LSD into my breakfast again. It will be hours before I am able to function and will be forced to go the grocery store and watch sesame street as a spatula today.

My egg family rolls into the mini-van with the wood panel on the side. I sprout legs, although still in the form of a spatula, and scuttle into the backseat of the car. I get the backseat to myself because my mom needs access to the baby sister and Kimberly likes to be part of the conversation. so once at the grocery store i receive the anticipated odd looks. They people gawk as if they have never seen a fucking spatula shopping with his egg family. It must be annoying to be a minority. At any rate i enjoy the sound of my head hitting every item we pass and begin to perform an intricate beat as we walk down the canned food section. As I become swept away with my music, i hear a crack. Holy shit, kimberly was just stepped on by the sample lady. God Damn you cocktail weenies! However, i cannot break from my beat to grieve, until THWACK! an elderly voice let's out a yelp and i realize i climaxed my drum beat right in the crotch of what i thought was a card board cut out of a man but in reality was a innocent bystander attempting to buy bread. He died. No matter, we must go on. My little sister and i, tired out by the journey and the general annoyance with our sister being murdered begin to barage my mother with questions. "Why does dad take his trunk off before work, is he embarrassed of it?" "What is god"? "Why is that woman wearing a gorilla costume?" Gufaaawwwwww All the oxygen of the room is sucked into a the large lungs of another elderly woman wearing a mink coat. My egg mother embarrasedly apologizes for my insulting comment and rolls on down the aisle...

i will not finish this story because i did it out of boredom and it is terrible but i was truly this bored and will now go to sleep, i love you all.

Mon, 14 Jun 2004 05:51:17 GMT

it's been weeks and weeks and weeks since i've last talked to you and everything has changed
is there anything that hasn't changed?
there's this girl
tara
and she's something i'll get to later
there's this god that i found in a series of ridiculous conversations with other people as well as myself
there's this country that i came across while driving across a portion of this big fat planet
there's this sad anxious feeling that has peeled away like the outer shell of one of those sponge dinosaurs that you put in water to watch grow
there's this new ambition
this new passion
this new outlook that reminds me of a first day done the right way
so i drove across the country with my friend named abby
we went to oregon, washington, idaho, montana, wyoming, north dakota, minnesota, wisconsin, and illinois and it's changed me forever
the trip wasn't exceptionally out of the ordinary, consisting primarily of driving, fast food, hotels, tents, beer, and scenic overlooks but i met america for the first time
this trip showed me that AMERICA is not in new york
it's in the flatest dullest random spot on a plain in middle north dakota where you're miles from any other person
america is potential
and it's open space
it's where you have yet to go
so i met tara
blonde, eyes that are blue, a heart that's anything but, blue that is, meaning that if i had to designate a color for the heart of this person it would probably be a glowing red, similar to that of molten rock because she is passion personified and you can watch it in her laugh and feel it in her kiss
should you be fortunate enough to experience that
not that i have been, or willing to say either way
she believes in things
passionately
she cares for things
like a mother
she's far away from me
like the stars for people who believe in heaven
she's on my mind
i spent tonight discussing poop and fights to the beat of the clinking of green bottles, you can guess the contents
i laughed harder than i had in a while
it felt good to be home
and the empty space i've travled through reiterated the importance of its existence
talking talking talking there's nothing i like more
i love hearing all their stories and watching their reactions to mine
there's nothing better than being alive
and being conscious of being so
my mom made me sloppy joes
felt like fourth grade again
with a grin spread across my face as easy as butter on bread
i gobbled down my meal and thanked her sincerely
crossing the plains i imagined myself walking naked across the badlands
i looked vulnerable but it was nice to see myself doing somethign worthwhile
i was gathering food to store fat for the winter
when you drive as far as i did you think about these things
life, death, your role in these things
i saw old faithful
not nearly as beautiful as the old people working behind the counter at the campsite
"i'd like to thank you for your kindness in coming to visit us, and hope you come back some day," he says reaching his weathered and wrinkly fingers across the counter to wave goodbye...i saw buffalo, i saw elk, i saw chipmunks, i saw it all but no one interests me as much as my fellow man, "don't let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya" says the radio man
attached, tuned in, this country is still so alive
i am still so a little bit intoxicated
i miss everyone i can't see right now
i can't wait for tommorrow
i have to go to sleep now, im on a naked sleep kick for now, all natural(said in spanish) no more clothes for me, talk to you tommorrow, sorry for the randomness im just a bit hyper, adios.

Wed, 26 May 2004 06:32:20 GMT

i haven't been posting much lately because i am bored of this journal thing...but here's what i've been up to tonight at least

drove tara to her parents' office/factory/warehouse thing in bellwood (i think it's called but i forget) which was awesome and inspired me to want to start my own business some day and turn it into a giant one where i can have big high-tech machines

rushed back to schaumburg, picked up blosch and zlaura (who just got dreadlocks and looks cool) and drove to the bottom lounge to see French Kicks and On the Speaker who were both really good, there was another band but i forget who they are and i didn't like them much

laura baill gets here friday. donna and i are gonna go stay with her at the hancock building until she leaves for israel.

sunday i go with tara to a motorcycle race and get to be down by all the action and see how it all works and hopefully donna and laura will accompany although donna says it's doubtful

monday no work, so maybe brookfield zoo cuz i haven't been in years.

last night i went to ovengrinders with laura p. laura r. and laura p's friends from home and then stopped by falsey's and saw lots of people i hadn't seen in a while which was both nice and odd.

this is all im going to say for now because my cereal is almost gone and i am exhausted and want to sleep.

the rising sun has strings attached
so as we watch
it drags tommorrow along with it
a series of hooks of different lengths
carry chronologically important items
first of which is a new day which acts as a canvas
followed by the hooks holding my eyelids which are mini curtains
and finally the pollock spattered make-up of every day life
what im trying to say is tommorrow is the fine print of every beautiful sunrise
and i guess depending on how you look at it you're getting screwed or blessed and i have yet to have the inclination to complain.

goodnight.

Hello.

Sun, 23 May 2004 16:41:19 GMT

life is delectable.
Goodbye.

Fight Sticky Time

Fri, 21 May 2004 06:03:25 GMT

i feel like sticky time has got me in its grasp
gravity feels heavier than ever
yesterday's evaporation
is today's heavy precipitation
i.
just.
can't.
go.
much.
further.
im tired of things
so i'll sleep them away tonight
but that won't do me much good
i'd forgotten the feeling of being powerless
and now it's got me in its grip
and my brain has grown two left feet
when it didn't need feet to begin with
and they're running me in circles
asking questions to which the answers i do not know
and it's the gravity
and it's the dark dank dampness of this corner i've backed myself into
and it's the musty smell that radiates from a door heavily decorated with deadbolts
that have got me sweating bullets
that shoot like...bullets...through the heart and mind
wrenching eyes wide open and heart hardened and shivering
and through the pried open eyes
im forced to sit quietly through the film of infinite futures
all of which i was too reserved and worried to realize
the chance we never take
is the grave of opportunity
and an added deadbolt to that damn unopened door

blah, goodnight.

Thu, 20 May 2004 07:04:52 GMT

oh man
too good to be true?
we shall see.

...tonight, went to a good dinner and a good concert with excellent company...
(concert: sleeping at last and ambulance ltd.)

started a new band **Rajetsy Mod** prepare yourself.

OH SHIT.

Wed, 19 May 2004 05:24:44 GMT

I FORGOT MY MUSIC RECOMMENDATION/WHAT IM LISTENING TO!

today's weather bored the sun to bed

Wed, 19 May 2004 05:22:43 GMT

too much cold weather today.

so today, i did very little and got paid for it, how sad. my job is a joke and should not be a job and i feel guilty for having it. i cannot believe people get paid minimum wage and below for doing manual labor and such, it's sick and twisted...and yet i need the money and am having a hard time walking away from this job without something to fall back on. im a hypocrite.

tommorow is an adventure. Ambulance Ltd. Sleeping at Last, and The City Will Save us are playing at Schuba's at 9 pm for 10 bucks at the door and 8 online. I'll be there with a new person.

So Betsy the dog has been diagnosed with diabetes. We've been giving her insulin shots for about 4 months now. Today Theresa was giving her the injection and as she was doing so she pushed the needle through her skin to the other side so the insulin shot out and did not get in her. We didn't know how much got in and how much did not so we gave her half a dose and fed her, as her doctor prescribed when we called. But now we have to keep an eye on her all night so each one of us is waking up every hour to make sure she's ok. It's kinda scary because she could potentially die and hasn't been doing very well with all this, but I'm sure she'll be fine. It's just sad to see how she's getting old and how dependent she's become on us. I wish i could make her a puppy again. Why is it that we become so attached to dogs? I think we allow ourselves to care for them as we would wish to care for everyone if all that human bullshit didn't get in the way. Anyway, i hope she feels better.

Being home is funny. I'm so confused as to what i am supposed to be doing with my time. I read, i work, i exercise, and yet i feel like im not doing anything. at school i don't have this problem. maybe it's because at school you are either busy working, exercising, concerting, or drunk so you have no time to be bored. my job is a big wonderful boredom carnival, so i think about how im spending my time on earth.

the song im hearing right now is Romulus by Sufjan Stevens and it made me think of Briana because he says "we touched her hair" and she always talks about how people are always doing that to her. i must admit her hair is cool, but she should karate chop all the touchers.

when i had my surgery i wore my hospital gown for 2 days straight after i got home, that was the oldest i've ever felt in my entire life. i felt like a plant that occasionally slugged its way to the toilet to drain waste. those were the grossest two days of my life.

brad was telling me that the guys at his work, i.e. schaumburg public works are worried about the new developments in the whole gay marriage issue. they are worried that "those fags are gonna start coming here now too". every day before we go out for work our boss says you are representing schaumburg. i wonder what they're boss tells them when they go out for work, "remember you are representing satan/the hopelessly religious right." i can't stand these ignorant attitudes. i mean im sure i've got some of my own, but these bastards have got to go. we should take a vote: who gets to stay the ignorant fuckers or the homosexuals, im afraid that the fuckers would win, but i hope that these public works guys are a minority. p.s. i know not all the public works guys are like that i.e. matt, blosch, mammy, etc. but damn it.

sleep sounds quite appealing, goodnight.

Tue, 18 May 2004 17:31:57 GMT

I wish i could play for you the song that's in my head
If i could only paint the picture that spreads across the movie screen on the back of my forehead
There's an open field
a chaotic dance
the girl in gold
and the others riding the conglomerate laughter
there's me propped up on stilts
from the ground to each corner of my mouth
stretching a painfully playful smile across my spinning head
sparks pop like rice krispies on crack
and faces across the way glow like cowboys' across
the campfire
making visible the inevitable tears that well up in the corner of any and all eyes that gaze into the flames in the company of friends
inside rumbles a ruckus
kin squabble over things that only love can create
a dispute over territory
the sister needs her quarters because her heart was invaded the day the others were born
the chaotic dance though
flows into formation
as the dancers flee to their chariots
to roar away into the steel blue rain bouncing like marbles on the asphalt floor
of our concrete community
an awkward goodbye
promising a goofy hello
that just can't come soon enough

oooooh man.

Tue, 18 May 2004 05:57:47 GMT

too electric to touch.
even I
am keeping my mouth shut
tonight.

Wow.

Mon, 17 May 2004 06:01:32 GMT

my latest posts have been just terrible im taking a break from those types of writing endeavors.

tonight we saw eric olsen's new band, Mayfield, play at the metro which was fun. his band was pretty decent, not my favorite kind of music, but their last song revealed some potential.

the other bands were not exceptional. the last band that played was, i forget their name, the leftovers of the breakup of jodie, that pop punk band from high school with a.j. and tim brennan i think their names are. the music was decent, but the lyrics were melodramatic and pretty uninspiring as usual, but the only reason i am writing about them is a.j. is a fucking psycho. i have never seen anyone act so strangly on stage as he tonight, with the exception of the Frog Eyes show at the Catacombs in Madison...He had this strange arched back manner of singing, and opened his mouth very wide during guitar solos and kept trying to kick his own butt. odd.

it's ok to be home. im glad to see lotsa people and spend time with the fam. and im glad to have time to read books i haven't had time to read, and i quit tv so hopefully i'll actually do some fun things in my free time.

i start work tommorrow, bike cop. yes.

i may fly out to portland to bum around with abby for a few days and then road trip it back to madison with her, that should be incredibly fun if it happens, it all depends on getting time off of work and all that bureacratic stuff.

i have so much shit, i dont think i'll ever get it moved back in, i am donating a lot of my clothes and belongings because i dont need them and can't believe i have so much.

driving down lake shore drive tonight after the show looking at the skyline and lake michigan and poopy by tv on the radio came on and it was niiiiice, windows down, cool wind, good company, made me glad to be able to be in chicago from time to time.

www.kexp.org making life wonderful

i have to get wilco tickets tommorrow, does anybody wanna come with blosch and i to the show? please do come, i am always happy to hang out with new friends.

donna is setting me up with a girl, marvelous.

that's about it, pretty bread and water kinda post, only the essential information for you kids. how ironic is it that i spend more time reading all your journals than i do reading the new york times. seems strange.

p.s. good thing about first night home.
arrive: 11ish
beer in hand: 12ish
giant omellette in stomach: 3ish
sleep: 4ish
awake: 1:30ish
....a great welcome home party, although i do plan to explore the strange world of sobriety a bit more this summer, i hear it is wonderful....

p.p.s. i think that if i learn some more chords on a guitar, wear girl's pants, get a tight black t-shirt, and grow my hair long again, i will be able to pick and choose among the masses of women, or at least that is what tonight's concert told me. is sex really this shallow? i want your feedback on this one. in my few years of being a single ane sexually aware being, i have had little evidence to say otherwise. i have become very good at making friends and having conversations but outside of that girls have just not been very useful. this is not meant to be mysogenistic (i know i butchered teh spelling of that word, sorry). feedback. please and thank you.

Yes.

Sat, 15 May 2004 09:09:47 GMT

pre orgasmic
curling of the toes before the apocalyptic shriek
panther pouncing on its prey
heart beat plays bongo solo
smile stretching so tight across a face that it goes around a head
touching on either end
might as well forget what sad was
this happy can't wash away
eagle spreading wings, bear stretching jaws, cat arching back
about to do something and anything and big
bigger than the universe
anything something everything
the sun rises for me today
the moon lingers for me tommorrow
i reached into the sky
sifted my hands through the dark water sky
felt the stars slip between my long cold fingers
grabbed hold of something
brought it down to earth
opened up
looked into my palm
and found a hiccup
hiccup big enough to shake my apple from the tree
the tree that holds the fruit of inactivity
hiccup big enough to birth me from the nothingness that is the bread of the sandwich of life as we know it
i held it in my hand
put it in my pocket
and am replicating it and passing it on to everyone i touch
anyone i can get close enough to look in the eye
close enough to see the face of their mother in the dark center of an eyeball
some call it the soul
i've got life and love in my pocket
and it's yours
if you'll let me give it to you
thanks

....so my last official night as a student at UW until my senior year has ended and it was great. i got to spend time with a ton of different people and it was awesome. i just, although this sounds lame, gotta say thanks to everyone. but i'll save the big long goodbye for later, but yes, thank you. lovely. thanks.
goodnight.

She lives on Tilsbury lane

Fri, 14 May 2004 07:50:28 GMT

a clown stands in a circular tent and pulls those never ending multicolored scarves out of this throat and it's now dawned on me that the damn mime is a buddhist waving prayer flags at a horde of peanut eating country-fair goers and they sit merely feet away and yet they can't hear a word he says and they'd strike him down in a fit of intolerance if they listened hard enough to understand a single idea he's trying to express. and the tear tatooed on his cheek hangs permanantly foreshadowing the blue that one day will cover his whole body when he can no longer stand the lack of communication. but he's catching glances from the girl in the last row batting her bamboo eyelashes from behind a cotton candy veil. and underneath that big seemingly empty suit and gigantic shoes sits a pounding heart desperately trying to dry that tear tatooed on his face. and just outside the circle of humiliating misconception stands the elephant smirking at the bearded lady who's fallen in love with the lion-tamer. at the end of the night they'll pack their bags and their homes and head to the next town. and sitting in the car with the other members of the circus crew is that tearful clown staring at his unpainted face. as the paint from tonight's show slowly drains down the trailer's sink he downs a shot of whiskey trying to stretch the little bit of natural smile he's got left as far across his face as possible to distract his co-workers from the fact that he can't wash away the tear. itching and agitated from the constant scrubbing, if you look hard enough inside you can see the memory of the cotton candy-veiled girl from the last row etched along with all the other faces that hold the what ifs of his life, what if he had to courage to be somewhere, someone. and so as the trail of dust falls back asleep after being awakened by the rumbling of wagon wheels, the town falls under the dead and lonely category of yesterday.

........i watched a documentary today about one of the school shootings, it really disturbed me, and made me sad. that's all i've got to say about that........

im wondering about what im not doing and what i've never known because as compared to what i know and feel tonight i'd prefer something new
i have no desire right now to return to something from the past, at least something somewhat realistic
i mean i'd return to my childhood in a second, but that's not possible yet
BUT i would like to know other things
i wonder what it'd be like to kiss the girl with the angel tattoo
i wonder if she's got a personality that matches her homespunish clothes
i doubt that she does
her face is far too pretty to be so pretentious as to be a neo-hippie
i read chris ballentine's story about whatever, i forgot what it was called, they go to the sushi bar, and the girl's got the hair that he likes, and i wondered what to draw from the story. did he make the right decision in leaving the restaurant, what'd he do after he left, why'd he get so upset, or appear to. if you want to read the story and have any clue as to what im talking about go to in my friend's page the crustcave site and find the recent post with the link to his new stuff
but i wonder if my idealization of women gets me into to trouble
im sure it does
cuz it often drives me to paralysis
i'd never dare kiss the angel-backed lady
sometimes i fear im turning into a goofy little Prufrock
and that is exactly what i do not want to become
my boxers are bunched up and it feels like im wearing a diaper
how embarrassing
laura p tonight was sad that im gonna be gone next year, like genuinely sad, and although i feel bad that she feels sad, it means a lot to have someone care like that, so to that i must say thanks, and i will miss her and everybody...but goodbye's are for later and they're only temporary.
but anyway i wonder what it'd feel like to not be going to bed by myself tonight
of course i'd wake up with that bad taste in my mouth that results of not being able to drool and possibly have a stomach ache from unconsciously not farting because it is a fact that we fart in our sleep but meghan had me so conditioned not to that i think my bowels can sense if there is someone next to me and if there is, there is no hope of release, which i suppose is a good thing for her, unfortunate for my personal level of comfort
i would enjoy to have someone to sleep next to who would not mind me drooling and farting in my sleep, i think that's what marriage is for
that should be in the vows
will you still love this man when he's drooling in your ear and dutch ovening the night away? if so carry on...
i had a big talk with meghan today and we concluded that it is important for me to do the things i wanna do or else i'll be boring and lame
we also concluded that we disagree on a lot of things, which is fine and funny
it's almost 3 a.m. again and im still awake, i want to get back on a normal sleeping schedule so i can be awake in the morning, i enjoy feeling like im a part of life, this late night existence is disillusioning
i am going to make this summer worthwhile
that is a promise
im going to sleep
goodnight.