Calesthenics for the young at heart

Mon, 08 Dec 2008 07:48:18 GMT

My Abby girl had a stroke
we had to put her down, and I feel like shit.

Fri, 21 Nov 2008 11:33:17 GMT

Really despondent recently:
No reason to pursue art
No reason to pursue school
No reason to pursue work
No reason to pursue love

Would fit very well into a cocoon
A deep hole too

Wouldn't mind a good trip or two
Mushrooms or road, either or or both.

Sewing a mask out of paper and metal wire.
Gonna be a ghost. Maybe just a fool.

I wish Gary Busey was my uncle

Wed, 07 May 2008 07:04:18 GMT

Mon, 22 Jan 2007 20:24:57 GMT

My ex-girlfriend died last night in a car wreck.
The year is starting out strangely.

Remember

Wed, 20 Dec 2006 02:13:41 GMT

No Physical needs
As a Means to an end.

Tue, 07 Nov 2006 20:46:49 GMT

It is a season of slow change, and aren't they all; a new oppinon opens lies lately. Look, and looking so, repent, for the ash on your forehead crosses out nations in each wrinkle it disturbs.

I just need something new up

Sun, 05 Nov 2006 22:08:15 GMT

Tue, 04 Jul 2006 10:44:29 GMT

I'm going to love you untill the stars come out, baby,
and then we'll cut off each imperfection and keep them in a labled jar.

Sun, 11 Jun 2006 08:52:37 GMT

Lately it's been a stream of golden webbing kissing the side of my cheek as erupting from the tower I know you knew. I too, and seeing sheets of white placed accorindingly to the drift of "as we already knew to be" ; how I've wandered and having gone, been blessed with a true answer from the question I ask of your heart beating next to mine. Do I catch that rhythem, and is it true to the anguished chorus ripping me in twain? Says the man atop the tower, face molding into the shape of your father's father's wife, "truly we are inside the fifth quarter" so impossible when the stars breathe down in fits of seven and five. I alive and living next to the image of myself projected carelessly into reflecting mirrors, a subtle trace of decay with each subsequent duplicate. To name apon waking, and to adore before the guise of sleep punishes slowly the fragmented wondering of my complextion, I name your name at each, and still the call goes unanswered.

Ah, to forget and to remember, moreover the selfishness of my own plea for understanding and connection than ever a true being in motion. Perhaps I've steeped too far atop the cliff's jagged monument, peering over at shadows crossing underfoot.

Proppaganda is not my "anti-drug"

Sat, 25 Mar 2006 01:00:26 GMT

I wish instead of blatantly spreading fear that the government would be more intune to let people decide for themselves what is best.

Sat, 18 Mar 2006 09:57:17 GMT

Fox and Hound (401 Guadalupe St) (18+)
fatcat records, pawtracks, bubblecore and motormouthmedia.com

Mum DJ Set 7:45 p.m. Reykjavik ICELAND DJ
First Nation 8:35 p.m. New York NY Pop
Storsveit Nix Noltes 9:25 p.m. Reykjavik ICELAND World
Ariel Pink 10:15 p.m. Los Angeles CA Pop
The Mutts 11:00 p.m. Brighton UK Rock
Tom Brosseau 11:50 p.m. Los Angeles CA Singer-Songwriter
Animal Collective 12:40 a.m. Baltimore NY Avant/Experimental

I shook Ariel Pink's hand, and also the man from Mum
I can hear things more clearly, even with the ringing in my ears.

Wed, 22 Feb 2006 21:22:16 GMT

Exscuse me while I lick this dog, and no, not in celebration. Enjoy this irony; your angelic hopes composed of melodies give way to only further your new depression. What is this beast that comes round back again only to chew the center of my ribcage, that fleshy pink middle beating? I've escaped, and you are but ashes I left after we all knew what burnt to the ground. But then why do I come again to this solemn regret? This unabashed need for self reflection and ultimately dispair? I, finding new health through medicinal aide come again to instability. I'm scared now that finding the answer is impossible, that this desperation and misballance will always be the broken sill on which I lean apon to watch your hair gently blowing just beyond my window. I am making stupid mistakes constantly, and to tell you honestly, I am sick of making these mistakes. I can not find happiness, not with you, not with anyone else, not with myself. I hate this fucking disease, and I hate that you passed it to me.

Fri, 20 Jan 2006 06:40:09 GMT

Winters finally starting.
I want to rip these veins from my arms.
I really shouldn't of rekindled this old flame.
I was so close to absolutely not caring about how she fucked up her life.
Explain to me why this makes me want to destroy myself.
I don't understand.

Sat, 14 Jan 2006 13:53:45 GMT

I might just go ahead and have a heart attack.

Ariel Pink, Animal Collective, Destroyer, Asobi Seksu, Best Fwends, Black Dice, The Brian Jonestown Massacre , Echo & The Bunnymen , Golden Arm Trio , Helmet, Ted Leo/Pharmacists , The New Pornographers , Roger Sisters, The Starlight Mints and so many others. This will be a fine year indeed.

I will knock heads to get in to see these, watch out door men, fuck your age policies!

Wed, 11 Jan 2006 16:08:46 GMT

I think I might just give up on girls and start dateing my sharpies instead.

Sat, 31 Dec 2005 18:33:47 GMT

blurry camera

Wed, 28 Dec 2005 02:44:32 GMT

Ahhhhh ok, top ten albums I purchased during 2005 that I think came out this year.

no particular order.
Animal Collective- Feels
Ariel Pink- Worn Copy
Bobby Conn- Live volume one
Destroyer- Notorious Lightning
Attic Ted- Hemogoblin
Black Dice- The New album
The Invincible Czars- Nutcracker (actually christmas last year)
Akron / Family- Self titled
Sufjan Stevens- Illinois
Edan- Beauty and the Beat

Mon, 19 Dec 2005 10:08:48 GMT

Passing out small peices of glass, that mirror I used to hang up above your headboard broken, reflecting every soft smile you trusted me with. Caught now in my toe, the bottle blue sliver of the last glass shard you threw into the ocean the first time you saw it, worn on the waves and sand, years past it's first gentle kiss, still sharp though long forgotten. I am bleeding small crystals of promises I made to myself in a glorious deep dark red and polishing the hardwood floors of an abandoned house with each and every lie I should of never believed in. I am no martyr, but I say more for my youth every day that I live it than any death could say for a revoloution. The games we play, you and I, serve more purpose than abstract truths, than any educated guess. I am trying hard to wake up, I am trying hard to wake up, I am trying hard to wake up.

Wed, 14 Dec 2005 23:25:30 GMT

It all came back to how much you really mean. And even as the electric purple skulls raced in spirals of green and dark dark violent blue, Conner Oberest reminded me to remember you. Cartoon figures, of two children on a beach, waiting for a sunrise.

Tue, 06 Dec 2005 08:32:04 GMT

I need to make something of it before it passes and I begin to lie to myself and say It never happened. I need to reassess my situation and derive available choices. I need to stop believeing. I overreact and wrongly devote. I am a fool for playing my games, and a fool for counting heads. Something is wrong with me, a flaw, a malfunction. And then I feel like I've been lied to. It's rediculous, and I'm entirely sorry. I'm sick. I want to regurgitate and be through with it. Nathan Stine you over react. Stop signing your letters.

A catch, a call, a call, a dance

Sun, 13 Nov 2005 10:06:29 GMT

My pheonix calender is horribly mismarked, and so, where do I write out the times of our lives and the dates we surely need to keep? Ralph and Alice would be a nice construct, a say lah vee for three, but entirely unfrench. I'd like to hide in your crawl space, listen to you cry, know what it means to really know. When clouds taste like veniger, I will be only three steps behind your shadow. When I relate songs to a relationship, daily, is that a sighn? Of anything really, of anything, or if I see you three times in a restraunt, but that girl never turns out to have the same pillow talk, and would be completely unintrested in flying kites. I'm being entirely foolish, and it feels good again. I want to be so entirely close, so much that it rips me into tiny peices of gold and green and red. Hurting for you is like saying goodnight, and whispering things while you're asleep, and tasting something real underneath cars going by over our heads. I hate reality, and responsibility, and mass, and quanity. I wish it was ok to get hurt, even though I would entirely never intend to make you do so. But here I am playing too many see through games again. No one writes with me anymore.

Thu, 27 Oct 2005 12:04:46 GMT

last night i had a dream that ended like this

the victr o lase xt ensionsp eake rswouldsom

563207-914065-78xg1zllggggggggggggggggg
etim espla ytheswe etest soungggggggggggg
pppppppppppppoooooooooooppppppppppppp

I wish i could remember the rest of the story, something about a man named norman who had a bell, told from a child's perspective. It was a very sad story.

Wed, 12 Oct 2005 04:35:37 GMT

When the truth gets out, I am a resource. All we can do for one another is mow eachother's lawn. I am losing more friends, and that is terribly sad. Maybe I should compromise my morals more often, live and breathe and compromise.

Sat, 08 Oct 2005 23:19:55 GMT

the day is one for missed shots, cracked brick where your shadow stands but where youve just barely dodged my steel asault. The cool air is finally hear, and oh phonix, I have an updraft for you to soar on.

Sat, 08 Oct 2005 07:21:48 GMT

I'm playing Spalding Grey, and that only leads to drowning.
I maybe wish I was Jewish, and more learned in Jewish Mystecism, and angles, and the structure of creation and the kaballah.
I'm playing Spalding Grey tonight and Its been feverish ever since, well honestly, probally since Florida. More so since Sunday, and maybe thats because I'm striveing to be loved.
It's not as pitiful as it sounds, I promise.

My knife daydreams are back, and I saw one of them in a movie recently. It was one hour photo, the part where robin williams is dreaming, and he opens his eyes, and they start bleeding. Thats mine, they stole it.

This isn't for your response really, I just haven't told anyone. Jesus, I really wish you hadn't disapeared.