And I hate who I am
And I hate who I'm not
Tomorrow I go back to work
I barely woke up when I got home today
It's not so bad when I'm there
It's killing me like that
I should just give up
But I don't know if I could stand not to hate it
Showing posts with label spring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spring. Show all posts
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Quick Update:
I'm still capable of being more of an asshole than I had hoped as evidenced by my spooning watermelon juice onto a friend's jeans last night to win a futile argument. And then saying, "That's a victory for me."
I still hate the job that I have to start back to in the morning since it makes me feel like less of a man to be working for The Man. But then again, making money to support myself makes me feel like more of a man, so I guess the two cancel out. I'm still as much a man. I hope. What even is man?
I still can't cope with my sister since I managed to pass by her and make a silent joke without having to really talk to her the other night at the mall.
I still wonder if this album that the band is working on (mainly Rudy and I) will amount to anything at all. I really want to tour. I don't know if I'll be able to. The old plan was to be done by now so that we could start putting ourselves out there. I think I secretly hoped we'd get some attention before June so that somebody would book us a tour for the Summer. I should really stop keeping plans to myself.
Sorry, don't have any pictures of Jon in chaps yet.
I'm still capable of being more of an asshole than I had hoped as evidenced by my spooning watermelon juice onto a friend's jeans last night to win a futile argument. And then saying, "That's a victory for me."
I still hate the job that I have to start back to in the morning since it makes me feel like less of a man to be working for The Man. But then again, making money to support myself makes me feel like more of a man, so I guess the two cancel out. I'm still as much a man. I hope. What even is man?
I still can't cope with my sister since I managed to pass by her and make a silent joke without having to really talk to her the other night at the mall.
I still wonder if this album that the band is working on (mainly Rudy and I) will amount to anything at all. I really want to tour. I don't know if I'll be able to. The old plan was to be done by now so that we could start putting ourselves out there. I think I secretly hoped we'd get some attention before June so that somebody would book us a tour for the Summer. I should really stop keeping plans to myself.
Sorry, don't have any pictures of Jon in chaps yet.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Stress
This video blows my mind. It stresses me out. It makes me believe in a Hobbesian human nature where two humans in a "natural state" encounter one another and are immediately hostile. Alliances are only formed to further aggression.
How real is this? All I know is that it's freaky.
How real is this? All I know is that it's freaky.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Pradiohince
The internet video that made my life today. Good audio quality, somewhat poor video. Wish I'd been there to see this over the weekend. Amazing.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Way
Winter comes and snow
I can't marry you, you know
Without you the winter grows
I can't marry you, you know
Love me the way i love you
Love me the way i love you
Take a year in your hands
You can find another man
Let your unloved parts get loved
I will be your man
Love me the way i love you
Love me the way i love you
Places you should be afraid
Into the river we will wade
Love me the way i love you
Love me the way i love you
I can't marry you, you know
Without you the winter grows
I can't marry you, you know
Love me the way i love you
Love me the way i love you
Take a year in your hands
You can find another man
Let your unloved parts get loved
I will be your man
Love me the way i love you
Love me the way i love you
Places you should be afraid
Into the river we will wade
Love me the way i love you
Love me the way i love you
"The Way" by Bonnie 'Prince' Billy
One of my greatest achievements in life is to have remained a virgin till my wedding day and to have married a virgin wife. Clears up a lot of the trouble of worrying whether you're the best the other person's ever had. One can't compare what one has to what one doesn't know; with that in mind I'm glad I only know one woman's body.
I'm not sure if in that second verse, the bolded one, Will Oldham is asking the implied you of the song to go sleep with another guy for a while and then come back or what. Sure seems that way. I don't think I could be down with that. I'm incredibly paranoid. I don't think I could handle being with a woman who'd been with other men to get what she couldn't get from me.
Maybe Will Oldham is such a down fella that he can admit his own failures to this extent. I don't know. If that's the way he loves then I can see why it'd be hard to love him back that way. Not that songwriters write music that literally describes them or anything. Not good ones anyway.
Maybe I should start avoiding that trap.
Maybe Will Oldham is such a down fella that he can admit his own failures to this extent. I don't know. If that's the way he loves then I can see why it'd be hard to love him back that way. Not that songwriters write music that literally describes them or anything. Not good ones anyway.
Maybe I should start avoiding that trap.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Son of Man Music Video
I came up with the idea for this video. I filmed half of it, and I edited it completely. I don't care that it looks shitty, I love this video right now with a heart in my chest.
The idea was to slow down the audio while we recorded to half speed. Then we would lipsync/play along to that slow track and speed it up during editing. This all occurred. I just don't know if it really worked or not. The video effect I got from Boris Complete Continuum really helped though. Made the different lighting settings blend better since I added a flicker to the whole thing. Now it looks like it's supposed to be grainy. I'm pretty pleased with the audio mix too, I might add.
The idea was to slow down the audio while we recorded to half speed. Then we would lipsync/play along to that slow track and speed it up during editing. This all occurred. I just don't know if it really worked or not. The video effect I got from Boris Complete Continuum really helped though. Made the different lighting settings blend better since I added a flicker to the whole thing. Now it looks like it's supposed to be grainy. I'm pretty pleased with the audio mix too, I might add.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The Chipmunk's Story
I am a chipmunk. I live at the zoo, yo. I don't live IN the zoo... shit... that life's for suckas. I just live AT the zoo. I take what I want. I feel sorry for them animals all cooped up in their shitty cages, but hey, they got caught, and I'm free. Should have tried harder, suckas.
When I say I take what I want, I mean it. I don't need a soft life of waiting for each meal and eating from the hand of some bigass human-fuckin-being. Hell no! I make my own plans for dinner! That's real talk!
If I want to fall back on that ass with a bonafide gangsta lean, like just cold chill in my crib, then I make preparations so as I don't have to go out. I survey my hood (the Australian Outback or some shitty rendition of it) and I scurry across the stones till I smell a plate full of food. Mmmm, mmm, that shit gets my tail perky, know I'm sayin'?
Like the other day I went out to fill my cheeks and I could smell a plate of food somewhere near the bat exhibit. When I investigate, what should I find but that the fools enjoying that plate are a couple dumbass birds. Faggots, too, by the looks of that rainbow plumage.
Well they're on the inside and I'm on the outside. It's not only in the fuckin zoo where jailbirds are given better meals than free men. You gotta get used to that shit, though, that's life.
Getting to the cage is quite a scramble. Keeping out of sight from those loudmouth brats holding Dairy Queen cones is tough work, for sure. If I hear another snot-nosed punk call out "Hey mama, look at the cute little squirrel" I'm gonna go apeshit on his ass. Squirrel? Fuck those big-tailed monkey-ass niggas! Last thing in the world I'm gonna put up with is shortie belittling me with that kind of shit talking.
Anyway, I creep up on the cage outside the bat exhibit and start digging. Nothing comes easy. I hit a rock and I've gotta quit and find a better spot. So I creep over to the door, these are always a little loose, no barriers underground. I get underneath and then I realize I've gotta get under another door. They put two doors into these bird cages so that the zookeepers can always keep one closed, keep the birdbrains inside. Well, no amount of doors can keep me out. I smell that birdseed and those exotic nuts and grapes and... well you know, right? I gots to be about my food storing.
When I'm on the other side I stay under cover of the planted foliage, bushes and shit, till I'm under the plate. I'm about to make a go up the branch when I spot this damn guy.
He looks like a fag to me. Grey striped hoodie, short fucking shorts, tight t-shirt, half-assed beard, and blue mouth from a slushie he's holding. But even though he's watching, he's not making a show of it. This punk may look like a softie, but he's no squealer. He's not going to walk over to the zoo folks and tell em whats up in Gay Bird Cell #69. He'll keep it to himself. And that's all I need to know.
Go ahead and watch, punk. You might learn something.
Up the shrub I go, and the birds scatter. I doesn't matter how big they are, how sharp their claws, how long their beaks. Soft-ass animals know hard-ass animals when they see them, and I fit in the latter category. Best recognize.
That punk stares as I cram it in. I start with the seed first, pocket it in every crevice of my jaw that's too small to put the real goods. Then I start in on a nut, rolling it perfectly in my hands and nibbling away till it fits with the seeds. Then a grape, letting the juices soak what I've already got and making it easier to mash down for efficiency. After that I move to breadcrumbs, then back to seeds... the cycle continues.
Then I'm interrupted. No, not the punk. Some shortie standing next to the punk. He sees me too, and he's getting ready to tell somebody about it. That shit will not stand.
I'm out.
Back to the ground, under the brush. Have to make it to the gate before the kid sees me.
Too late.
I tried to make a break but I can hear this fucking kid's mom now. "That's right sweetie, that chipmunk is stealing all their food."
Yeah, and I'll take your eyes if you don't shut the fuck up, bitch. I've gotta blow. I'm under the first door, making it towards the second. The punk in the grey hoodie is just watching me with understanding. I'd almost let him help me out here, but trusting is for suckas.
I'm under the second door. The brat that tattled is making like he's going to try and get to me now that I'm on the outside of the cage. He might get too close before I make it to a bush.
The punk steps out in front of him, says, "Don't worry about it," and the brat is stopped in his tracks.
I'm under a bush.
"Hey! Where'd he go?" the kid is loud as a fucking bullhorn.
The punk repeats, "Don't worry about it."
What a fucking hero. Not like I need that shit, but still, every little bit helps. When the kid gives up trying to spot me in my hiding space, I creep out to the punk's foot and look up, trying to show him some appreciation, just a look of recognition. I think he sees it.
The moment stops when I catch a whiff of stale popcorn and decide that I could probably use it to top off my load.
That's what it's all about. Get what you can, take what you can get, and don't regret your take.
When I say I take what I want, I mean it. I don't need a soft life of waiting for each meal and eating from the hand of some bigass human-fuckin-being. Hell no! I make my own plans for dinner! That's real talk!
If I want to fall back on that ass with a bonafide gangsta lean, like just cold chill in my crib, then I make preparations so as I don't have to go out. I survey my hood (the Australian Outback or some shitty rendition of it) and I scurry across the stones till I smell a plate full of food. Mmmm, mmm, that shit gets my tail perky, know I'm sayin'?
Like the other day I went out to fill my cheeks and I could smell a plate of food somewhere near the bat exhibit. When I investigate, what should I find but that the fools enjoying that plate are a couple dumbass birds. Faggots, too, by the looks of that rainbow plumage.
Well they're on the inside and I'm on the outside. It's not only in the fuckin zoo where jailbirds are given better meals than free men. You gotta get used to that shit, though, that's life.
Getting to the cage is quite a scramble. Keeping out of sight from those loudmouth brats holding Dairy Queen cones is tough work, for sure. If I hear another snot-nosed punk call out "Hey mama, look at the cute little squirrel" I'm gonna go apeshit on his ass. Squirrel? Fuck those big-tailed monkey-ass niggas! Last thing in the world I'm gonna put up with is shortie belittling me with that kind of shit talking.
Anyway, I creep up on the cage outside the bat exhibit and start digging. Nothing comes easy. I hit a rock and I've gotta quit and find a better spot. So I creep over to the door, these are always a little loose, no barriers underground. I get underneath and then I realize I've gotta get under another door. They put two doors into these bird cages so that the zookeepers can always keep one closed, keep the birdbrains inside. Well, no amount of doors can keep me out. I smell that birdseed and those exotic nuts and grapes and... well you know, right? I gots to be about my food storing.
When I'm on the other side I stay under cover of the planted foliage, bushes and shit, till I'm under the plate. I'm about to make a go up the branch when I spot this damn guy.
He looks like a fag to me. Grey striped hoodie, short fucking shorts, tight t-shirt, half-assed beard, and blue mouth from a slushie he's holding. But even though he's watching, he's not making a show of it. This punk may look like a softie, but he's no squealer. He's not going to walk over to the zoo folks and tell em whats up in Gay Bird Cell #69. He'll keep it to himself. And that's all I need to know.
Go ahead and watch, punk. You might learn something.
Up the shrub I go, and the birds scatter. I doesn't matter how big they are, how sharp their claws, how long their beaks. Soft-ass animals know hard-ass animals when they see them, and I fit in the latter category. Best recognize.
That punk stares as I cram it in. I start with the seed first, pocket it in every crevice of my jaw that's too small to put the real goods. Then I start in on a nut, rolling it perfectly in my hands and nibbling away till it fits with the seeds. Then a grape, letting the juices soak what I've already got and making it easier to mash down for efficiency. After that I move to breadcrumbs, then back to seeds... the cycle continues.
Then I'm interrupted. No, not the punk. Some shortie standing next to the punk. He sees me too, and he's getting ready to tell somebody about it. That shit will not stand.
I'm out.
Back to the ground, under the brush. Have to make it to the gate before the kid sees me.
Too late.
I tried to make a break but I can hear this fucking kid's mom now. "That's right sweetie, that chipmunk is stealing all their food."
Yeah, and I'll take your eyes if you don't shut the fuck up, bitch. I've gotta blow. I'm under the first door, making it towards the second. The punk in the grey hoodie is just watching me with understanding. I'd almost let him help me out here, but trusting is for suckas.
I'm under the second door. The brat that tattled is making like he's going to try and get to me now that I'm on the outside of the cage. He might get too close before I make it to a bush.
The punk steps out in front of him, says, "Don't worry about it," and the brat is stopped in his tracks.
I'm under a bush.
"Hey! Where'd he go?" the kid is loud as a fucking bullhorn.
The punk repeats, "Don't worry about it."
What a fucking hero. Not like I need that shit, but still, every little bit helps. When the kid gives up trying to spot me in my hiding space, I creep out to the punk's foot and look up, trying to show him some appreciation, just a look of recognition. I think he sees it.
The moment stops when I catch a whiff of stale popcorn and decide that I could probably use it to top off my load.
That's what it's all about. Get what you can, take what you can get, and don't regret your take.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
I Saw a Chipmunk Take What He Wanted
These little buggers take what they need. They don't play by rules. I need to get on this shit.
"Give it to me muthafucka"
"Yeah you, back the fuck up. Or die."
"I enjoy only the finest fucking wines and cheeses. Mmmm, mmm, bitch."
"I said fuck you, pay me my money!"
"Give it to me muthafucka"
"Yeah you, back the fuck up. Or die."
"I enjoy only the finest fucking wines and cheeses. Mmmm, mmm, bitch."
"I said fuck you, pay me my money!"Saturday, April 19, 2008
I Used to Be the Nice Kid
I hope I'm not as big an asshole as everyone around me says. I used to be the really nice kid. Shit.
I hope that in the end everything works out. I play the cynic, but I really live my life like life is gonna work out just fine. Please work out, life.
Please for the love of whatever just work out.
I hope that in the end everything works out. I play the cynic, but I really live my life like life is gonna work out just fine. Please work out, life.
Please for the love of whatever just work out.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Got Em
So that last post ended somewhat dismally. Thought I should post a follow up finally. So yeah, around 9:15 am (which means I could have slept all night) my refreshing paid off and I pounced on 4 tickets right up front in the pit for Radiohead. Behold:
Now I probably can't afford to pay rent. Oh well, I will succumb to credit cards for my obsession.
Now I probably can't afford to pay rent. Oh well, I will succumb to credit cards for my obsession.
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