Babies

Babies smile as I walk by

They do not cry

I wonder why

Maybe time will tell that I

Have a softer side

I’m really kind

Despite

What my actions right now prove

It must be something they learn in the womb

That we forget as we grow long in tooth

Ask the babies, maybe they know the truth

Judgment swings so far and wide

Inside my mind

I’m never right

Anymore I’m giving up

On trying to duck

The verdict of

My life

Is my attitude really all that bad

Do boys pick poor rolemodels over dads

Cuz children seem to like me as I am

It’s easy for their minds to understand

My actions are so childish too

It must be something they learn in the womb

That we forget as we grow long in tooth

Ask the babies, babies know the truth

Medication

This is the part of me that hates to believe in spirits
This is the part of me that thinks I have nothing to offer
This is the part of me that never finds me funny
This is the part of me that hopes disaster strikes

This is the part of me that pretends I'm only faking
This is the part of me that has great taste in movies
This is the part of me that has no interest in learning
This is the part of me that hates my old best friends

This is the part of me that wishes I was lonely
This is the part of me that screams inside my car
This is the part of me that downloads too much music
This is the part of me that's wanting to be famous

Deer Me

Deer scare the shit out of me. I am not joking; I am really afraid of deer. I drive a lot and I live in the midwest. It's deer season. I am scared.

This weekend we drove to Kalamazoo, MI for a show at a new venue called Dino's. On the way we saw a car on the other side of the road with the passenger side of the windshield demolished and paramedics surrounding it. Animal attack.

On the way home I shifted lanes in the dark only to find the pieces of a deer strewn all about my lane, most remarkable being the upper torso and its still gleaming eyes staring right towards me (dead things can't stare "at" you, only "towards" you.) I freaked, but couldn't steer around it. The tires went bump on that awful head. Twice more we saw bloody streaks, a foot or two wide in some places, leading off of the road. Where did the animal go? Did it drag itself away? If it lives, is that a failure?

See, I think these deer are on a kamikaze style mission. I think they get overpopulated in the area, some of them can't find mates, they get really depressed, they decide to end it all and take some of those wasteful humans with them and they go for it. Human lives are taken. These beasts must be hunted and killed. They must be hunted by others though, because I'm very intimidated.

When we were finally back in Fort Wayne I was driving along Dupont Road and in the opposite traffic lane I spotted two deer standing at ease. I was terrified. Any moment they could leap into my way. Well, they weren't quite ready like Biggie Smalls, so they stayed put. But they eyeballed me like I was a small boy, something with no balls, a pathetic inferior with my life in their hooves.

I know anybody reading this probably doesn't care and doesn't believe me but I shook for ten minutes straight. My wife felt my arm and it was like a cheap rubber basketball of goose flesh.

Not convinced? Look at this shit:


A cross between a cougar and a deer. Terrifying.


An actual five-legged deer.

Scary shit okay. And regular deer are too.

The Things About Thanksgiving

The things about Thanksgiving I will not forget:

- My uncle and my great grandmother arguing over whether whipped cream should be put on the whole pumpkin pie, or administered by each individual up to the amount of their choosing.

- My mom and dad playing Guitar Hero II.

- Finding out that my uncle and I went to the same elementary school, had some of the same teachers, and that we have a flat tire and a dead battery (both) in the parking lot of said school.

- Remembering that I like babies.

- Hearing freshly mastered tracks off of the upcoming Vampire Weekend LP.

- Drinking beer in front of my family.

- Seeing my mom drink beer for the first time.

No. Don't Worry. I'll Do It Myself.

Basically it's time to stop guessing around and start to formulate this elusive sensation called inspiration. I'm getting organized: cameras, microphones, motion-sensors... it's going down. I'm really going to catch it this time. I'll trap that golden-egg laying slave of my happiness once and for all. Wish me luck. And sanity.

Fame and Respect

I want to be famous. I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. That is, I'm not sure which role I want to fulfill in society. But I'm sure I want most everybody to know that I'm doing it. Up until about three weeks ago I was fairly convinced that I didn't care if anybody liked me; I just wanted them to know about me.

The problem is, that I'm a pretty likeable person. At least I think so. I mean, I bitch nonstop on this blog shit, but in person I'm pretty easy to like. So if somebody really despises me, chances are they don't know me all that well.

I used to say that I could get any woman. Literally any woman. All they'd have to do is get to know me. I'm not the most attractive guy physically, but I've got some pleasant features and my future seems to be going places (hey, I'm planning to be famous) so I figured I had a chance with anybody who'd give me one. Fortunately my wife felt this way too, so we hooked up and yeah, look where that went. People just need a chance.

Think about it: most everybody is pretty likeable. Even villains. Take a look at film. The only villains that you despise are the ones you never get to see both sides of. Every villain has a softer side, a vulnerable side that was exploited to make them villains. And we're all weak in some way, so we can identify with villains, so any villain you get to know is pretty difficult to despise.

I'm not saying I'm a villain. Or at least that's not exactly what I'm saying. But I think that if people dislike me it's because they haven't seen the other sides of me. They're probably judging by one smallish example of my personality and not taking it in stride with the rest of me. If you got to know a well-rounded picture of me you'd see that I care about more than just myself (shock.)

So lately I've been really careful around people I just met. They don't have a lot of material at their disposal to use in measuring my comments, so if I make a wrong move that could be the most they ever get to know of me. Once they spend a good amount of time with me I can feel more comfortable to act like a jerk or joke around about their problems, etc. (villain type behavior)

The prospect of fame is really frightening to this newly sensitive me. All anybody ever gets to know of you is those single comments. You have to be careful all the time. And yet, few well-behaved people ever make history. Predicament.

I need to find something righteous to be villainous about. Those are the folks that get attention and respect both. I think.

Posting My Thoughts Is Not My Forte

Sitting on the back porch of my, oh wait I don't have a back porch.

Standing outside on the deck of my second story apartment I can see the leaves are bright yellow. The color is similar to the sun which has failed to make an appearance today. The rain drizzles on, occasionally thickening to sleet. I like icee drinks. I hate it when God dumps them on my head. Just kidding, God. But really, I hate it.

Tonight the band practices again. I wrote new songs to rehearse. We'll see how that goes. I better come up with some more specific musical ideas. Coming up with them on the spot isn't really anybody's forte. What does it mean to say something is your forte anyway?

forte1 /fɔrt, foʊrt or, for 1, ˈfɔrteɪ/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[fawrt, fohrt or, for 1, fawr-tey] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation –noun

1.	a strong point, as of a person; that in which one excels: I don't know what her forte is, but it's not music.

2.	the stronger part of a sword blade, between the middle and the hilt (opposed to foible).

So there you go. Apparently not related to the musical term with the little angled line above the "e."

What astonishingly interesting information that is. What a lame first post. What a good time to go to class and think about how I'd rather not be alive than go to class. By the way, I think there's a big difference between wishing you were dead and wishing you weren't alive to be doing what you have to be doing at a particular time. The latter implies that you would like to be alive and doing something else. I'm that one.