...

Worlds of Fake Fake Fake

2005-11-15T00:03:21Z

The time has come
To change
To ignite the smoldering beast
For truth to shine and burn the eyes of the misled
I'm am sick to death of the bullshit
It is rare that I find anything honest
If it was created by a man, the chances are close to none
On what or who can my trust rely?
When did everyone become so full of shit?
God must be dead
'Cause a lot of people are chasing something terribly wrong
In his name

In his name we march to kill our fellow man
In his name we say these untruthful things
In his name we spend our dollar on things we despise
In his name we create marketing schemes to dismantle humanity
In his name we misguide our youth
In his name we never change

I think it is about time the idiots stop saying they're doing their "deeds" in the name of God
That's if they want the rest of us to have any respect for Him
Their fabricated grey bearded man stroking his beard in his chair atop our cosmos
Our beautiful world of fake fake fake that fails to rest beneathe him

I am not saying I don't believe in God
But I sure as Hell don't believe in theirs. Shit....they don't even believe in their God....why would I?

I don't know how I got on this subject....

Where?

2005-09-09T04:51:23Z

Where is your Motivation?

Do you even know what makes you happy? Are you aware that you are fully capable of committing those actions? You've done them before...what happened? Was the world suddenly scraped from your embrace, or are you simply too lazy to make the commute back? Are you honestly going to sit there and wonder what you could possibly do with your boredom? Those scarce hours remaining from your day. Are you really willing to waste the only time you have to make yourself happy?

God I hope that beer is good.

Cheeseburger

Video game

Cigerette

Cheap Hollywood flick

Car commercial

Paycheck

'Cause you'd be a fucking idiot if it wasn't!!

-Meanwhile your talents fade

RJA 9/8/05

Departure

2005-08-24T19:46:41Z

Finally started another chapter:

Departure

It’s time to tear down the walls I’ve covered with things that make me feel safe. Time to abandon the things I don’t need anymore. Time to go through all of my things and decide which are important enough to bring along. Who am I? What is all of this stuff? Is all of this necessary? If I throw this away will I miss it? These are the questions that I’m sure everyone asks themselves when it comes time to pick up and move away from home. It is sad and exciting at the same time.

It was obvious that the things I cared most about were my creations. Whether they be drawing pasted to the my walls, poetry, old tapes, or photography. I once said: “Who are we beyond the things we construct”. Apparently I didn’t want to leave much of myself behind. I packed up almost all of my artwork. I remember thinking I should have some type of fire-proof box for all of my old poetry. Poetry saved up from the point I began writing it. In the beginning where I was a love-sick rhyming maniac. Full of cliché’s and cheesy lines for mice. Up until the present where I was finally on to something. It is interesting to read through the time-line of my documentation. I couldn’t leave this stuff behind.

I put a lot of my stuff in boxes and shipped it to Florida to arrive on a day when I should be there. Not everything could fit in my 1992 civic hatchback. Especially since I decided to lower the car at one point because I thought it looked cool. Too much weight and the car would be sitting right on it’s own wheels due to the shortened springs. I wasn’t sure where I would be going after school. If I would be back or not. I didn’t know what the fuck was going to happen. So I packed up a lot of things I didn’t need to. Hey, it was my first time moving away from home. Give me a break. And I come from a mother packrat. It takes time to fix problems your born with. At least I’m aware of it he he. I………just……….can’t………….let………….go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yikes.

The feeling of leaving everything you have ever known is a strange one. Seeing almost everything you own packed in to a car is also. I really didn’t say too many goodbyes. I may have been avoiding them. Or maybe I didn’t really feel like saying goodbye to a lot of people. I do recall one night before my departure where I let loose with some good friends of mine. We drove around in a car all night with a trunk full of artillery shells. Those are the big fireworks that are shot high in to the air and then explode with color to satisfy the eye. They are illegal in Utah. Fucking rebels, you got it. This was sometime close to Halloween so people still had carved pumpkins sitting on their porches. Their jagged scary faces looked like they were melting and were turning in to has-beens. Once razor sharp teeth now rounded off, black, and growing mold. How could their creators embarrass them like this. We had to take care of this problem.

We drove around all night blowing these ghouls up with these shells of chaos. Color and smoke burst at every stop we made. The adrenalin after every explosion was the reason we enjoyed it so much. We didn’t care who we were waking up, or that we were destroying their precious pumpkins and making a mess. We didn’t care about anything but the rush. We documented all of this with a video camera. We knew it would be funny to look back and see us running wild. It was a good night…and a goodbye to those group of friends.

I had to write my Mother a note before I drove away in my car. Her youngest son was moving away. She was still single and lonely. I felt horrible about leaving her there. But my time had come to leave the nest. I knew I would be missed but that it was what I had to do. I had wasted far too much time in Utah already.

For the first leg of my trip I would be alone. I would drive all the way to the Grand Canyon to meet up with my dad who would join me for the rest. It was a great drive. I had a lot of time to think. To wonder. To try to predict just where I was going and what would happen. Who knew? I sure as hell didn’t have a clue. All I knew is that the road was already winding. Around every corner was something new. Something I had never seen before. So much space. My home town was shrinking with every turn of my wheels. I was excited and contemplative. Confident that I had made the right decision.

Loathe

2005-08-24T17:40:40Z

Loathe

Insensitive we swim throughout a malnourished love
A spattered dove, __screams I don’t want it
Older than the itch, yet invaded by the grudge
Was it a test, __or a massacre?

Hey,
Why do we waste
Why do we waste all the precious time we’re saving for….

Why
Wait

Until the blood streams down our face
Lonely, bitter, coiled
If the snake unfolds, it’s to never trust again
It’s the consequential loathe
To leave this dismal world
When the heart is torn, from any pulse at all

Why
Waste

Acknowledged and it’s gone, diseased, delirium now known
Euphoric dove, __tries to deny it
Conquered as this loneliness devours any thought
Please…remove…these…..eyes

Let it stop here
Let it stop here
Let it stop……..

Why?
Wait

Until the blood streams down our face
Lonely, bitter, coiled
If the snake unfolds, it’s to never trust again
It’s the consequential loathe
To leave this dismal world
When the heart is torn from any pulse at all

Zero

2005-08-17T01:26:33Z

Paced with stumbling steps
Around a foreign pool on our planet
Thinking from not what is considered
the original source of thought

Mysteria

These Pictures trapped in this skull
This electricity
Making this pen move with my muscles
Seeing my hand as an operating machine
With compact layers
Detailed valleys
Sunsets
Birds, and change
and contradictions
These things happen
Even at a level we consider minimal
Due to reference
Reference is everything
That causes misunderstanding
When we falsely assume
That there is a zero.

7/17/05
RJA

Wrapped up Cancer

2005-08-17T01:21:24Z

Squeezing a tune
from an empty tube of paste
Watching it's top poke out from the enclosure
Crying out
In universal language
A physical, literal, political break
from science
A cause
Leaking from this cancer
Wrapped in skin that appears clean
Though I am rotten
As we all are
Sickly to the T
In our primal engagement
Assaulting one another with bones, and sticks, and spot lights
Over exposure
Glistening, blistering people
I know more about the things I despise
Than I do about the things I love
I don't know myself
Do I love myself?
I would hope so.

7/17/05
RJA

Snooze

2005-08-17T01:15:41Z

Head skipping like a record
Eyes of a million bus-rides
Expecting the blade
Refusing to slay
This day with the optional.....snooze button
I've slept away better days than this
Crippled by eye curtains
I've lost all control of the rebels
Now they run
Like the claustrophobic minks that escaped my farm

7/12/05
RJA

Saturation

2005-08-17T01:13:18Z

Saturation

All in one perfect place
The particles gather for a night of symbolism
To ignite ideas and participation
This is destructible
With or without the metaphors

The ambush of a lack of awakenings
Plural ambience
Created in a hum of clouds colliding
One over the other
Friction
They all come together
As we are
Yet we fail to act like it
Is it a difference in density
The simple reaction of the elements
Is this moment insignificant?

The layers align to remind me
That however bitter the moment,
If you wait it out, chances are it will change
If not, just look behind you.

6/30/05
RJA

asichange @ 2005-07-20T23:48:00

2005-07-21T07:14:24Z

Don't scatter up your emotions. Put them in a bottle. We'll make soup out of them. Stirr them in with our vegatables and civilizations full of them. I heard they taste like lumber. Brickyards lay unnattended. Pictures swing from rotting walls on a pivot. Suspended by only their own self appreciation. When did we stop caring. What day we were stripped of the potions that made us stride. For anything but the competitive whistle.

Melody

2005-07-12T01:02:57Z

Embracing a changing moment
Chasing the tail of a wick burnt into wax
Its stream of constant endurance
Moving like a serpent
It holds on to lost melodies in the air
Consistent yet aging

Our songs
Collectively guiding the world
More than It knows
More than our "leaders"
More than our weapons
More than religion
...It is the melody
...The Voice
...The soul of Us
...Our ever-changing representation
...Our guidance

In perfect form

7/11/05

PhotoShop

2005-06-17T20:25:52Z

Yesterday I worked on a few pics from our show at the Knitting Factory a couple months ago.

These are the ones. The monitor I'm using sucks, so I'm too sure they will look the same on other screens.

Story

2005-06-17T17:22:04Z

Last night I started working on an autobiography. This is what I came up with. It's rough, unedited, and incomplete... But here it is....the results of the first writing session.

Intro

Is this the beginning of something? Am I starting in the middle? I feel the time is never appropriate for the idea in mind. Maybe this is why I always have a hard time starting. Well either way, I have begun. I am sitting here ready and typing. I am currently distracted, but it shouldn’t take me too many paragraphs to get sucked in to this story.

Tonight is a calm one, or so it started out that way. I drove home and happily listened to a CD I bought recently. It’s full of sarcastic statements and audible humor. It’s entertaining if nothing less. There are some good catchy lines that you catch yourself singing to. I feel for it more when their scarce seriousness peeks through. But this is besides the point. The point is I wasn’t angry. I don’t consider myself an angry person. I have my resentments, but I understand that those things are not worth obsessing over constantly. My resentments control me. But that doesn’t mean I never have a good time.

Lately I’ve been feeling a lot more creative. Not only creative but motivated. Motivated to do something with these ideas in mind. To develop them. These soul sculptures that I have failed to spend enough time on. I know they make me feel more complete, and productive. So why not keep it going? This is why I am sitting here.

Chapter One

Fetus

High School Graduation is over. It’s June 16th and I am at a job interview to work for Wasatch Electric. A sub-contractor that lays cable, and pulls it overhead from pole to pole. It’s manual labor, but I had heard the pay was good. So hey, why not give it a shot? I had just graduated and getting a job seemed to be the mature thing to do. In my mind I knew I wouldn’t be there much longer anyway.

First things first!! I had to figure out away to pass the piss test. “Quick, what would my brother have done?” He had once been the King of All Sneak. Getting in to trouble with marijuana, alcohol and steeling at a fairly young age. But how do people expect kids to react when their treated like savages. Yes, he was scalped at 16. Of course it had something to do with that!

“I don’t regret the fact that I smoked on graduation night, but shit, how am I going to do this?” “Got it.” I remembered how my brother would pass his tests once in a while. In fact he taught me the trick using props. “All you have to do is have one of your clean friends piss in a condom.” “Then tie it to your belt and hang down near your croch and inside your pants.” “Then all you do is bring a pin with you and poke the tip of the safe sexer and let out all of your friends warm pee in to your cup.” “Just make sure you keep it warm.” I remember thinking about how it would obviously be bullshit if the cup felt cold when the nurse grabbed it. So I made Tommy do this for me, and pulled it off perfectly. Lucky me!!

The first day of the job I arrived early with my new tools I had just paid for. They gave me some gloves, a toolbag, a hardhat, an orange vest, and some safety glasses. But this was all just a tease. We didn’t get to have any real fun yet. We had to leave the yard and go through some safety courses at the main offices down the street. I have to say that I didn’t learn a damn thing I didn’t already know by watching those lame ass videos, and reading through those treacherous pages of inked common sense. “Bend your legs while picking things up.” “Make sure to always wear your ridiculous safety gear, even if there is nothing around you that could possibly hurt you.” The videos just went on and on. Blabbering there, a static box that had just eaten a gallon of rubber cement. All I could think about is how boring it must have been creating these videos. The “lets teach these dumbasses some common sense, so we can’t get sued when they die” videos. I had had enough when I saw the host yawning as he demonstrated how to put on a straight jacket. “Now for the illusion of safety!”

Tommy and I both showed up back at the yard in full costume. Only to realize that the other workers were dressed in just regular shitty clothes. Not these new, bright colored, and armored shitty clothes. But the same kind you could wear if you were mowing the lawn or something terrifically joyful like that. I love the sense of accomplishment after mowing the lawn. But God Damn, I hate emptying those horrendous sacks of grass. I used to avoid it and disregard my commands for a couple weeks at a time. I only made it harder on myself though. Those days that I avoided the almighty sack were truly blissful.

So after playing copy cat and trying to imitate the motions for several weeks, Tommy and I became active parts of different crews. The only way to be good at that job was to act like a God damn animal. Carry 80 pound ladders up hills through thorns and then raise them up to the tops of telephone poles. Climb up and down with 75 pound tools. Swing from the trees like ambitious monkeys, and cut down every branch in the way. You had to deal with being treated by a slave. With going home covered in bruises and scratches wrapped around sore muscles. You had to deal with the fact that you were risking your life everyday for a measly $8 an hour. It may have been a little more than that, but trust me it wasn’t worth it.

There’s nothing like climbing up huge pine trees and looking at your coworker once stopped to see his eyes bulging in disbelief and caution. “Don’t move!” I was only trying to scale the tree and cut a few branches with the saw tied to my lanyard. What the hell was going on? I slowly turned around and realized my neck was only about an inch and a half away from a Quadzillion volts of electricity. I humbly slithered down the tree needless to say. I hung my head for the rest of the day. I was embarrassed with myself. With the fact that I had stooped to this level. Risking my life for a paycheck. Hating every minute of it. Abusing my body, and wasting my time. Digging trenches in rock hard dirt for 12 hours a day. Flagging hasty drivers in my orange vest to keep the company from being sued for popping out of nowhere with it’s parked bucket trucks. What was I doing there? Believe it or not, that even wasn’t enough to convince me to leave.

It was about 4 p.m. and we were doing a running some lines through a whole bunch of trees in a huge lot that some lazy asshole owned. I call him that because the place was a mess. As if cable was never meant to be strung between those poles. We had to drag all the goods to this job to try to get it done. One being a three pieced lay-up stick that had to be at least 30 feet long when put together. Picture the pieces like giant tent poles about an inch and a half in diameter. At the end was a hook that served many purposes not worth explaining.

I was using this huge stick to try and move the strand that we were going to lash the cable to. It was stuck on a branch or something. So I was burning the muscles in my shoulders off trying to get the show on the road. I was almost ready to give up when the hook got stuck on the strand and the bottom piece of the stick fell off and I had to. The pole was now dangling above my head and I wasn’t able to reach it without the third piece attached. So I jumped and swung my hand at it like I was trying to block a shot in a basketball game. I jumped as high as I could, and I still just nicked it. Once I landed my jump I crouched and looked up to see how my attempt was a miserable failure. As soon as I placed my eyes on it the fucker fell right on my face. Straight down on to my lip and nose, so all the weight, and strength of the fiberglass beast landed at full force.

It hid me so hard I didn’t even feel it really. My whole face went numb instantly. Sometimes I would rather that things be painful, then to get that numb feeling. You don’t really know the extent of your injury when you can’t feel it. All I knew is that I felt like the from of my face had just been smashed off, and that my front teeth felt caved in.

I was very calm but bleeding everywhere.

I had to climb through those annoying trees, over fences, through dry river beds, and a few other ridiculous things I’m sure. Just to get to the truck. Where my boss was radioed and informed of what had happened to me. He marched back in disbelief only to be surprised. Surprised by my new duck bill of a face, and the gnarly gashes that had been added to it. He shook his head and started thinking about what to do.

I ended up having a plastic surgeon stitch me up. My face looked terrible for about a week, then appeared only moderately destroyed for a couple more.

Luckily it isn’t easy to see the result of this injury any more. My teeth were fine. Though the crescent shape of the corner of the pole had sliced all the way through one nostrils, and halfway through my upper lip, you can hardly tell this trauma ever happened. Was this the final straw?

I ended up quitting the job about a week later. I learned that I should certainly get an education. I felt sorry for the people I worked with who had been doing it for years and will continue to. I was sure that I could do something better. I had already made plans to move to Florida and attend a school for the recording arts. I had a roommate and everthing. A girl nonetheless. I was to leave this slave labor and chase a dream to make it in the music business. But I still had a couple months. Haha…I quit a little earlier than I had planned.

Since I didn’t finish working through the summer, I had to take out a loan to buy the things I wanted before school. I felt I needed a nice Macintosh computer, a Pro Tools system to run on it, a couple decent microphones, a P.A. for live situations, and a couple mic stands and cables to put it all together. The loan was for $5,000. The bank gave me a check that I went and cashed for the whole amount. I felt empowered walking around with that much cash in my pocket like most people would. I didn’t get it all in large bills either. That wouldn’t have been much fun. When I got home with it I laid it out all over the floor and took a few pictures of it. Then I went and spent it.

I ended up getting the items just explained plus a few others that hadn’t been predicted. I had a pretty good setup now without a clue on how to run it. But that’s why I was going to school. Of course I had to get ahead and have a former graduate of the same school come over and teach me the basics. Jay Henderson. My first bands drummers older brother. Someone I had looked up to for his artistic ability for a long time. He had a large influence on my life during those times amazingly. I didn’t really even know him that well. But I heard him when I’d go to his house to practice with my band. Up in his room writing songs in his lonesome. Passionately singing and playing the guitar or piano. I could relate to a lot of the messages or meanings behind his creations. He was honest and I appreciated him for that. I tried to let him know that too.

So I learned the basics and started recording my own songs. At the time my dad had moved out of his part of my uncles duplex to work at the Grand Canyon. I moved in and had the whole place to myself. I converted the living room in to a studio, and began doing not much else but make music, smoking pot, and writing poetry. Whether is was going to parks with friends and getting stoned, then gathering around to write and read poetry. Inviting various musicians over to jam at the house. Discussing philosophy and relating to one another about growing up in that bubble of Utah. Or simply sitting in front of my home recording studio and capturing the songs I had been singing to myself for years. The reasons I survived. My expression. My therapy, my life traveling through a microphone for the first time and being recorded to a hard disk.

I would like to look back and say that those last months were the “good ole days”, but they weren’t entirely. Though I had finally managed to break free from the semi-hold the church had on me, and found some real people to write with and relate to. It wasn’t enough. I needed to leave. I needed to find myself. And I wasn’t going to do it by staying in the same comfortable place for my entire life. I had to lose everything. I felt more prepared than ever to flee.

asichange @ 2005-06-07T11:34:00

2005-06-07T19:21:59Z

Why not? Here I go.. even though this survey is gay as all hell.

DO YOU SNORE?
According to certain people who have never proven it with proper evidence.

ARE YOU A LOVER OR A FIGHTER?
Lover...verbal fighter. Don't fuck with me though...I'm not afraid to beat some ass if I need to ;)

WHAT'S YOUR WORST FEAR?
I try not to focus on fear...but it would have to be just being unhappy. Unsatisfied with what I've achieved. Wasting my time. Being unproductive. Becoming desensitized...you get it.

AS A KID, WERE YOU A LEGO MANIAC
No, but my brother was. I couldn't concentrate long enough for it. Sometimes I would play with them, but I would just free-style. My bro would actually follow the directions to build cool things. What a nerd. IT'S ALL ABOUT THE LINKIN' LOGS!!!

DO YOU LIKE REALITY TV?
I don't like TV much at all. Some of the reality TV stuff is interesting, just because everyone in our world is crazy. Why not expose them, and point and laugh?

DO YOU CHEW ON YOUR STRAWS?
No...straws aren't that great to chew on. I chew on everything else though. Pens....I'll destroy them. It's annoying.

WERE YOU A CUTE BABY?
Yeah I was hot LOL.....uhh sure I was cute.. I had huge bug-eyes though.

IS THE SINGLE LIFE FOR YOU?
Who knows.

WHAT COLOR IS YOUR KEYBOARD?
White

DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER?
Sometimes...I used to all the time. But once you move away from home, a lot of things like that change.

HAVE YOU EVER BUNGEE JUMPED?
Hell yeah.. Off of the biggest tower in the U.S.!!!

ANY SECRET TALENTS?
Yeah...I can blow bubbles off my tongue, shake my eyes......you name the stupid human trick..and I can probably do it.

WHAT'S YOUR IDEAL VACATION SPOT?
Right now it's Hawaii.. Only 'cause I want to go there so bad. I like all kinds of Vacation spots. Cabins in the mountains near lakes are always fun.

IS JAY LENO FUNNY?
I fucking hate Jay Leno

CAN YOU SWIM?
Yeah, but I'm not very boyant...so if I stop paddling I'll sink straight to the bottom.

HAVE YOU SEEN THE MOVIE "DONNIE DARKO"?
No..and I don't really want to even though I know nothing about it.

DO YOU GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THE OZONE?
Yeah.

HOW MANY LICKS DOES IT TAKE TO GET TO THE CENTER OF A TOOSTIE POP?
That's such a stupid question. Who has actually counted? Ever!! Don't most people suck on lollipops anyway? Who licks?

CAN YOU SING THE ALPHABET BACKWARDS?
Almost

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON AN AIRPLANE?
yeah..a bunch of times. No fear there. I'm more afraid of being in cars.

ARE YOU AN ONLY CHILD?
No...and I'm glad.

DO YOU PREFER ELECTRIC OR MANUAL PENCIL SHARPENERS?
Weird. Electric...if I'm feeling like a perfectly smoothe, sleep, sharp, point in about 7 seconds.

WHAT'S YOUR STAND ON HUNTING?
Depends on the hunted.

IS MARRIAGE IN YOUR FUTURE?
Maybe...I'm not sure though. I think the way marriage is set up for men is pretty bullshit.

DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
Not really. I'm too impatient to have cool writing.

WHAT ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO?
Bug bites.. bee stings..
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAID, "I LOVE YOU!"
This morning. _dad

IS TUPAC STILL ALIVE?
No!! Yeah he was cool..but get over it.

DO YOU CRY AT WEDDINGS?
Yeah actually I've come pretty close...at close friends weddings because they started tearing up.

ARE BLONDES DUMB?
No. Everyone is genious.

WHERE DOES THE OTHER SOCK END UP?
In a pile of dog shit...after the bastard digests it whole and craps it out on your lawn.

WHAT TIME IS IT?
11:54am

DO YOU HAVE A NICKNAME?
JimmyTBS, Toaster_that's what Jo calls me, 'cause she likes to use my body heat for warmth.

IS MCDONALD'S DISGUSTING?
Disgustingly delicious.

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WERE IN A CAR?
Who cares?

DO YOU PREFER BATHS OR SHOWERS?
Depends on how I feel. If I feel sick, or really cold...I like baths.

IS SANTA CLAUS REAL?
yes

DO YOU LIKE TO HAVE YOUR NECK KISSED?
of course

ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK?
no
WHAT ARE YOU ADDICTED TO?
Sex.. Weed.. Music

CRUNCHY OR CREAMY PEANUT BUTTER?
creamy...sometimes crunchy

CAN YOU CRACK YOUR NECK?
yeah..I probably can. But I'd rather let a professional do it haha.

HAVE YOU EVER RIDDEN IN AN AMBULANCE?
Yep. I got attacked by a full hornets nest.. And another time when I tried to crack my own neck.

HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BRUSHED YOUR TEETH TODAY?
1

IS DRUG FREE THE WAY TO BE?
No... but it depends on the person.

ARE YOU A HEAVY SLEEPER?
No.

WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES?
hazle...green/blue

HOW LOUD DO YOU SNEEZE?
Really fuckin' loud. Did you hear that?

DO YOU LIKE YOUR LIFE?
Yeah. It's pretty exciting actually.

WHO'S BETTER: STONE COLD OR THE ROCK?
Both of them are gay. But I hate The Rock more.

ARE YOU PSYCHIC?
yes

HAVE YOU READ "CATCHER IN THE RYE"?
yes...one of my favorite books

DO YOU PLAY ANY INSTRUMENTS?
yes

CAN YOU SKATE?
yep

HAVE YOU EVER STOLEN MONEY?
nope

CAN YOU SNOWBOARD?
yep

DO YOU LIKE CAMPING?
yepo

DO YOU SNORT WHEN YOU LAUGH?
nope

DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC?
yes

ARE DOGS A MAN'S BEST FRIEND?
no

YOU BELIEVE IN DIVORCE?
yes

CAN YOU DO THE MOONWALK?
I wish

DO YOU MAKE A LOT OF MISTAKES?
yep

IS IT COLD OUTSIDE TODAY?
no

WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
a tomato basic bagel

DO YOU WEAR NAIL POLISH?
no

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN KISSED?
nope

WHAT'S THE MOST ANNOYING TV COMMERCIAL?
Yours

DO YOU SHOP AT AMERICAN EAGLE?
no

FAVORITE SONG AT THE MOMENT?
The Barney Song

Dirt

2005-06-03T17:59:35Z

Soon enough I guess
I will admit the inability to change
Our quilted earth
Impurity film that coats us all
Little specs to remind us that nothing is clean
Gather all around
Despite our desperate exertions
If only I was small enough to be overtaken
Giant stones floating in the air
Swarms of God sized flakes of skin and mountains of lint
Taunting until they crash and hatch
Multiplying across this floor
Fertile
Dominant
Destructive
Soothing as it rests
On everything we know
While the OCD's march with rubber gloves like handcuffs

Inherit the world

2005-04-28T23:36:41Z

“Don’t point that thing at me!” It’s not a gun it’s an ATM card, but just as dangerous. Especially if it ends up making you so angry you want to crack yourself in two and deposit your inner-being in to a waste bucket that will never be recycled. “Come on now, don’t overreact.” ….the problem is I have to. The filthy dollar has made me angry!!! Don’t I have the freedom to hate the bank right now?

Next time try convincing me when I’m not feeling hostile. Then you might have a chance. Right now I want bad things to happen to every CEO of every corporate bank in America. Just for pissing me off. Those filthy fuckin’ pigs with their extra skin sagging over their rich white collars. I hope they stuff their faces with our money so fast that their heads explode. Blasting their faces all over their children who will replace them in a traumatized state. To take over the throne that fucks over America. Filthy little seedlings. Inherit the world!!!!!

That was a little vulgar and I apologize. It just amazes me when I learn of what these people do behind our backs with what we have earned. In my opinion: the more and more our earnings become intangible, the less we can control what people do with it. Wiping us out in a digital realm. Cutting out the stupid insignificant lower class.

Does anyone agree with me?

Vibrant Null

2005-04-08T01:11:18Z

After the leaves cease
The dry wrestling in the trees
Settle
I only hear the footsteps
Of birds, and hookers…hobos
They all march on as gatherers
Limited by the elements

The crows scream paintings by Dali
Sorcerers of the winged parade
Each feather, manipulating
Speaking with their turns
As if the wires are listening

To anything but their own vibrant hum
Electric straws
Uttering as they sway
“Turn down the noise”-
“Let life speak”
“Let it burn us ‘till we’re bolder”

If I Have to Write About the Hookers

2005-04-08T01:09:36Z

Here we are now, a few past noon. With nothing new to realize. Everything is familiar. Leaves colliding in to eachother as the wind calmly roughs them up. It kindly pushes them out of it’s way. I am protected from these gusts by the shadow of this building. The sun is sitting in the West, way past the 405. The temperature is just cool enough to feel.
As I sit here with a pen, a motive, a journal, and a little time. I search my surroundings for something to put on this paper. Something visually inspiring. My spherical hunters re-trace these lines and figures over and again. There must be something.
Then a thought comes to mind. This is where the prostitutes roam. May I remind you that this is NOT Vegas! Our hookers have cocks, deep voices, 5 o’clock shadows, muscles, and adams apples. All clothed in hardly anything at all. I can’t fucking forget about these people. What has driven them to this? Sanity can’t exist in those skulls! I can imagine the customers. The overweight business men cruising around in their Mercedes, or Beamers looking for a snatch to snack on. Like hunting for a husky in a pack of wolves. “Good luck fine fella – most of them are sporting cocks.”
But maybe that’s what they want…just the thought of THAT astounds me. What the FUCK is going on here? Have we all gone mad? Don’t these people care what they put them selves into? Or is anything quiet worth paying for.
What is the price I wonder. They probably base the amount on their customers car and attire. Or the intensity at which they lick their chops. Fucking pigs salivating over strange, misleading, breathing blow up dolls. “Ten bucks a nut! ..and don’t get anything on these sheets. I have another 30 minutes in this room, and that’s enough to fuck three more pieces of shit just like yourself!”

I can’t imagine the aftermath.
The sober moment after ejaculation
The pay up
The exit.
The return to regular life
How could you not feel like brown steaming pyramid of shit?
Not knowing the diseases, or even the gender for that matter.
Returning home to the family who has no idea Daddy’s been suckin’ dick.

4/7/2005

Gradual Morn'

2005-03-31T00:11:20Z

Today I rose a little late. Stepped away from the starting line a little later than what I had planned last night as I set my alarm. It wasn't because I didn't hear the gunshot, but because I was far more comfortable before the race began. My warm bed with scattered sheets, and an increasingly hot shower. Who would want to go from those things to a mad dash? If I had ten more minutes, I could have turned the temperature wheel all the way to the left. A satisfying action, that only once in a while makes it in to my morning.
-Skip breakfast! -Skip everything
I'll exchange the minimal extra sleep, and scalding hot water for food, and extra dress time on a weaker day. A day when I feel those things are important, and if I'm able to realize it while half asleep.
*****
Last night I went to sleep with an aching, angy heart. Though it was lightened moments before my eyes fell, by a comedy and a massage, the weights welded to my face were still even visably apparent. And still resident in my heart.
-Anger-resentment-hostility-Hurt
All of which were created by an ignorant mouth. A mouth that speaks words from a diluded mind. A mind that can't understand that things of great importance take TIME to create. A perfectionist at work doesn't hurry. There is no rush! Just as a writer typically writes more than one draft. As far as I'm concerned It doesn't matter how long a fucking project takes. If honesty is desired, it needs TIME to develop, evolve, morph in to the creature perfect for it's environment. An equivelent amount of TIME should be spent creating this environment. If every piece of that place was thought over, re-written, until each creator is satisified creatively....there would be no grass to walk on. The rabbit wouldn't be demanding the turtle to hurry along. At the same time slowing the process, and killing the moment.
SO FUCK YOU RABBIT!!
YOU PIECE OF SHIT!
Next time try understanding what goes in to something before trying to accuse one of not trying hard enough. Instead YOU should try harder....or maybe you should go buy an inspiration smoothie, and give it to your "problem".

GO FUCK YOURSELF!!
YOU ARE PERFECT AREN'T YOU!

asichange @ 2005-02-26T18:09:00

2005-02-27T02:09:18Z

I am
Tired of acting like I’m anyone
With anything
Are you, active with god and power
Ambitious divine
It seems those are the things I am looking for
Sweet heart
You’re so beautiful
With your substance and stride
That’s so meaningful

written: a while ago

Standard

2005-02-22T20:09:08Z

At what age do we earn our souls?
This eternal aura of life
When does one gain such a thing?
Do we have to sew it on like a merit badge
Purity stitches
How are we so proud
If we don't know what it took to become "elite"
Us omnivores eating everything in sight
Savages
How did we achieve this elevated existence
Was it fashion?
Technology?
Proove it!
I want dates!
Invoices
Follow the paper trail to the breakthrough of man
'Cause I don't feel any better
Sure I eat the flesh of another
This is the way it was set up for me
Nothing less____________________________excuses
Nothing more______________________are
Previous action caused my being_____like
And made my choices for me_____________assholes
Guess my soul is industry standard

2/18/05

sofy la hooga

2004-12-07T23:20:50Z

I just ate some chicken wings. Soo tasty. Last night we recorded the bass for umbilical. Next..vocals, as soon as I'm completely better, which should be in a couple days.

After we recorded we made a quick run down to the Sunset Strip to pass out some flyers. We got rid of like 100. We saw the bouncer from the Whisky (Rick) Beat this guy up in front of the club. People sometimes wish that they would get to see things like that, like fights and things. But when you really do see them, it makes you feel very unsettled. It kinda made me sick to my stomach.

Hmm...I wonder what I'll do tonight after work. Not recording, but I think we're jammin'. Other than that?????

I wrote a commisioner from the San Diego court a letter today, to try and clear up my fines/charges from July 4th 2004.

Bearded lemmons.

Green is for Go

2004-12-03T11:57:23Z

This hour the clock moves as it does
As planned
I, as the other
act more like a dim traffic light
still effective
most of the time
depending on how much you expect of me
what your destination is
when you got your eyes checked last
None of this makes any difference to me
I am enduring these repetitive projects
Not performing
Simply running through these motions
Because I have to
Otherwise
Something I despise
Might happen
Yeah, it can be dangerous
Especially with extra obstacles like fog
or rusty eyes
But if you focus on what you're responsible for
So will I
And we might make it through this night

yomousa

2004-12-03T07:52:51Z

I am at the studio. It's 11:27 pm. I've been here since 10:30 am. I've been at Margarita Mix for something like 51 hours in 4 days. Fucking ridiculous. I can't even explain how much I just want to go home and chill right now. I haven't done anything but worked, and band shit for the past week straight. I have a pile of laundry sitting in front of my door at home, cause the only time I've been home it's been necessary for me to sleep it away.
This is gay....anyway....it's not that bad. I'm getting paid double time, and I need the money.

There are two studios running right now. Each of which the clients are being charged more than $900 an HOUR to use. Yup. And my measley paycheck doesn't see any of that. Even though I'm the one here running this place. Go's to show our corporate world. And our business food chain.

Good thing it's easy. Or else I would be pissed. Most of the time I get to sit hear and do whatever I want on the web. Tonight I chatted with Jo (whom I haven't seen in a week now), and Chris. I had funny conversations with both of them. Jo has clouds in her room, and Chris tripped me out with his webcam. First time I've seen one of those in action, while chatting with the person. Yup, I had hime show me his titties. He told me he shaved his nipples for me today. What a fag.

My cough drop just wore off and I'm whooping again. Last night we came in to the studio for the third night in a row (one of the reasons I've been here so much), and tried to record bass. We just bought a new bass. It wasn't intonated correctly so we bagged the bass idea. Then we did some vocals just for fun. I knew I was sick and that they wouldn't turn out well, but we did them any way. Then I felt like shit afterwards cause I sucked. Funny how that works. I'm such a perfectionist when it comes to singing. If I feel like I performed shittily I feel like such ass. Then I tell myself that I suck, and go through a bunch of head trips. Which I eventually realize are bullshit. Interesting eh. Human nature I suppose. Keeps one continuing to find ways to improve. "How to improve, what can I do...better?"

I just want to cuddle up with Jo in my bed right now and go to sleep. _for a while_ :)

187

2004-11-29T20:48:10Z

Yup that's why I was in court today. I witnessed an asshole driving like a bat out of hell kill somebody with his Lincoln Navigator. He was there in a wheelchair(which made me feel a little better), but also a smirk on his face that I wanted to punch off. The guy got a continuence because one of three of his attorneys couldn't show up. He's obviously guilty as hell.
Now I'm at work. This is the first time I've written in this thing for like month (Jo kept track for me). I don't have much else to say. Kinda in a bad mood. So bye.

asichange @ 2004-10-30T21:03:00

2004-10-30T04:10:35Z

I've been drinking. I just told my dad about the warrant for my arrest in San Diego county. I don't know what I was thinking. Fuckin' stupid if you ask me.
All I want is for him to not worry about it, and let me handle it. I should have known that he wouldn't be able to do this. I can't expect him to just forget about it. I've handed him this knowledge, now I need to work with him.
I have to work for him tomorrow morning at 10:00 AM I need the money to pay for this ridiculous debt.
Tomorrow we are playing at a house party. I think it will be cool. But naturally I worry about how many people will be there when we play. Just because I'm the middle man in booking this show.
I hate the way this government works. I hope all these people in charge drown in the money their making.

Fuck America.