January 4th, 2002

It cain't rain all tha time.

I'm just a sinner in a world of saints
Y'all must be right, cause I know I ain't
This rock'n'roll is just Satan's taint

Waking up tired
every single day
feeling like sleep
would be the better way

I could write another boring love song
And make it real catchy so you sing along
But I wanna write something that's a little more real
I wanna write the words that'll make you feel

"they keep calling me..."
  • Current Music
    The Cure - Burn
The view from up here

I wasn't going to say anything.

I was ruminating on an entry regarding this last night, but declined due to extreme blah and wanting to beat the Agent level of Goldeneye (I got past my frustration with video games after talking to Jason cheered me up).

I've been more receptive to people. Usually, when I get an IM, my first reaction is a groan (I'm really not good with people), but last night, I felt more welcoming, and it was sobering. I realized that I'm still sorta used to college, when people would mostly only IM me when they wanted something. It's now okay to talk to people, though. Especially since all but one of my friends is an hour or two away (since I pretty much have to go on foot until I get into the city).

I also realized that maybe I was trying to reverse the trend I started last year of killing my wackier side. I don't jump up on tables and dance as much any more, but I'm also more withdrawn. I move in overcorrections.

My point was: thank goodness I started on this global mood upswing with increased receptivity last night. Since then, I have had two people to add to my contact list. Quelle swank.

I think the labiodental fricative is migrating to a labial fricative. Loathe is becoming love, and I do not loathe people anymore.

It is okay to touch me. I will try to smile, and I will mean it when I do.

Now all of you go away and let me contemplate this change in peace.
  • Current Music
    with his head on fire

I make me laugh silly.

I'm listening to the Crow soundtrack (since last night when I retired Fugazi for the week), and I'm thinking to myself, Wow, I wish there was a Machines of Loving Grace song on this album. Y'know, since there are all these cool bands I always wanted to listen to in high school (The Jesus & Mary Chain, My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult) that it always seemed like the cool kids who somehow managed to listen to songs not played on the radio listened to.

I'm so dumb, I didn't even realize that track 2 was a MoLG song. I had been scanning over the name repeatedly, storing the name in my subliminal mind to the extent where I wrote the band name down so that I wouldn't forget to look them up on AMG and confirm that they were, in fact, of the gothic/industrial genre of music I missed out on, not having an older brother with a vast CD collection to scrub from.

We are such silly creatures; so easy to program, so hard to comment accurately.
  • Current Music
    dead soles

The man in the iron butterfly

I've always got this question
that you can never answer
everytime you mention
I'm such a great romancer

Your eyes are rhythm
your heart is a song
I'm deafened by the bars you hum
yet you want me to sing along


fuck songwriting


so frustrated with wanting to do something.

I'm pissed I left the song I was working on at work. I'm pissed I can never get much more than a verse before I lose the tune. I'm pissed it sounds mass-produced and empty.

Goldeneye just got really hard. Maybe I am not concentrating enough. Maybe I'm concentrating too much.

Maybe I should just put any 47,000 words together and call it a book. I have no clue what I want to be. I say "writer" because that's what people tell me. I no longer want to be a physicist or a psychologist, even though people told me I should be those, too, because I have tried it and got bored. I don't want to be anything. I don't want to do anything for a living. I just want to live.


And it feels like I'm feeling, but I'm really just dispassionately pressing plastic buttons. Maybe I am typing a story. Maybe I am just mashing the keyboard with chimpanzitic frenzied enthusiam.

Maybe I am just listing things to kill time. To kill pain. To kill myself.

Time needs to move faster so I can see how my life ends. I'm not concerned with actually being happy; I just want to know if I will live a happy life. It's like MASH (mansion apartment shack house); who will I marry, where will I live, and how many kids will we have? What kind of beautiful automobile will I drive? Oh, really? That's nice. Ok, I'm done. I don't really need to live my life. I need to watch a speeded up sim of what it will probably look like.

I've always been fascinated with the future, because I know I could see it if only I could look backwards.
  • Current Mood

Davey Jones Lockout

I have her tears in writing
she handed them to me
she summed them up in forty words
and cast them out to sea

drifting wet and lonely
a jury of my fears
they're floating in an empty bottle
for damn near forty years

no rival tribal conquest
the battle's all but won
I never would have ever guessed
the fighting's just begun

and so I'll sail for twenty years
and gently fall to sleep
you can wake me when we're safely
at the bottom of the briny deep

I'll bring no diving suit
I need no scuba gear
If necessary, I'll hold my breath
for nigh on three score year

Something there is that doesn't love a Wall-ter Payton

I'm fascinated by before and afters. I think I need to start a community.

Fill in the blank:
  • Maynard James ________ Ivory Wayans
  • Double ______ to be Stupid
  • Angel ______ to dust
  • Swiss Family _______ Crusoe
  • Machines of Loving ________ Under Pressure
  • My Life with the Thrill Kill _____ture Club
  • Third Gear _______ my ass
  • A Clockwork ________ County
  • Brisco County, _______ Mints
  • Walk This ______ to go
  • Jennie _______ Brooks
  • I Mother ________, Wind, & ______starter
  • Ride the ____________ Crashes
    • Current Music