Well, at least she was honest with me.
I wrote this certain poem for a certain someone a while ago when I thought things were alright. Apparently, that was all in my head. It seems like a lot is in my head.
It's really funny looking back at how I felt and how disproportional it is to how I feel now. At least I get to drop out of the play. There's no use in that anymore.
Well, those pills are in the bathroom drawer somewhere. Better go find them.
-
I wove this canvas. I crushed these berries to make paint. The wounds won't scar from when I picked the thorn bush for them. It was only a scrape at the time. Now it's infected and spreading.
The image is in my head. Everyone's encouraging me to bring it to life. They know what it will look like. It this is no abstract painting. They're waiting. I'm waitng.
I've sat in front of this spread for two months. The background is grey and neutral. It still lacks the primary colors.
I never learned to paint them. I don't like figuring things out on my own.
But I want it to be perfect. I won't settle for anything less.
I guess when you leave something for too long, eventually it rots.
-
ae
Tuesday
Wednesday
new poem, shot at unconventional poetry
i've never read ee cummings, but this kind of how i imagine his stuff would look like.
Blogspot does a terrible job of aligning this. read it here, and open it under WordPad or NotePad so it will be properly aligned
ae
Blogspot does a terrible job of aligning this. read it here, and open it under WordPad or NotePad so it will be properly aligned
ae
Tuesday
my sad little journal/blog/friend who listens.
she plays with my eyes from a distance. running, running around. keeping my attention. dressed brightly with the sun lighting up her smile and her eyes in that unmistakable way.
it was only a phase.
-
i constructed this canvas. i found the colors to make these paints. the image is in my head. everyone's been encouraging me to bring it to life. they have a good idea as well of what it will look like. it's so perfect. put it up for the world to see. they're waiting. you're waiting.
i've been standing in front of this spread for three months. i outlined the background and created the structure, but i can't bring myself to fill it in with the primary colors.
but i wanna. i fucking wanna.
i just cant figure out what technique to paint this portrait with. i want it to be perfect. and i won't settle for anything less.
i guess when you leave something for too long, eventually it rots.
-
i'm feeling pushed aside. pushed aside by another artist whose going to finish this painting. pushed aside by their four point oh and their metaphoric catch phrases and their cool uncool flannels.
blow me, i did that first.
it sucks to be pushed aside by someone you admire so much. since day one and since the velvet underground and nico came up.
go to the fucking east coast with your pretentiousness. you and all your fucking friends. i'm fucking sick of looking at you and fucking sick of think about you.
-
purple is a great color. apparently it's my power color.
you always recognize me approaching you when you catch glimpse of my purple circas when you're getting your books. apparently purple reminds you of me.
want to know what purple reminds me of?
it reminds me of what you wore that night. and how happy i was that night and how happy you were that night. and that that regret i felt from when i walked through the door until i passed out in someones basement. and that slightly confused and slightly discouraged feeling you felt that split second before you went back to your friends.
thats how i hope you felt.
-
thank god it's you has to act and not me. with you around, i'm already acting. not good enough to get an oscar, obviously. this time i get to stand around and look pretty and you get to do the acting. oh, and that east coast esque artists gets to show me how bad i am.
it's funny how metaphoric my life and the high school drama department really are.
-
and there's no blame for how your love did slowly fade
and now it's gone, it's like it wasnt there at all
and here i rest where disappointment and regret collide
lying awake at night
-ben gibbard
-
i wish i could make words like i made riffs and i wish i could make riffs the way i make words. and i wish i could show you this. and i wish that i wasnt compulsive and i wish that i wasnt wrong. and i wish that i was ben gibbard on days like this. and i wish that i didn't feel the need to write all of this.
-
i'm running out of things to say.
may i correct myself: i'm running out of things to bitch about.
-
some old lady's singing. over that, some sad young man plays a bittersweet guitar arrangment. the skips and scratches of the vinyl soothingly proceeds as the bass progresses. a calm vocal expression of emotion recites.
he blinks, and his tears hit the floor.
loudly.
that sad riff keeps playing, and still he moves on.
this is not mine.
this is the moment.
i am the angry sun.
-
play practice is going to kill me tonight.
-
it was only a phase.
-
i constructed this canvas. i found the colors to make these paints. the image is in my head. everyone's been encouraging me to bring it to life. they have a good idea as well of what it will look like. it's so perfect. put it up for the world to see. they're waiting. you're waiting.
i've been standing in front of this spread for three months. i outlined the background and created the structure, but i can't bring myself to fill it in with the primary colors.
but i wanna. i fucking wanna.
i just cant figure out what technique to paint this portrait with. i want it to be perfect. and i won't settle for anything less.
i guess when you leave something for too long, eventually it rots.
-
i'm feeling pushed aside. pushed aside by another artist whose going to finish this painting. pushed aside by their four point oh and their metaphoric catch phrases and their cool uncool flannels.
blow me, i did that first.
it sucks to be pushed aside by someone you admire so much. since day one and since the velvet underground and nico came up.
go to the fucking east coast with your pretentiousness. you and all your fucking friends. i'm fucking sick of looking at you and fucking sick of think about you.
-
purple is a great color. apparently it's my power color.
you always recognize me approaching you when you catch glimpse of my purple circas when you're getting your books. apparently purple reminds you of me.
want to know what purple reminds me of?
it reminds me of what you wore that night. and how happy i was that night and how happy you were that night. and that that regret i felt from when i walked through the door until i passed out in someones basement. and that slightly confused and slightly discouraged feeling you felt that split second before you went back to your friends.
thats how i hope you felt.
-
thank god it's you has to act and not me. with you around, i'm already acting. not good enough to get an oscar, obviously. this time i get to stand around and look pretty and you get to do the acting. oh, and that east coast esque artists gets to show me how bad i am.
it's funny how metaphoric my life and the high school drama department really are.
-
and there's no blame for how your love did slowly fade
and now it's gone, it's like it wasnt there at all
and here i rest where disappointment and regret collide
lying awake at night
-ben gibbard
-
i wish i could make words like i made riffs and i wish i could make riffs the way i make words. and i wish i could show you this. and i wish that i wasnt compulsive and i wish that i wasnt wrong. and i wish that i was ben gibbard on days like this. and i wish that i didn't feel the need to write all of this.
-
i'm running out of things to say.
may i correct myself: i'm running out of things to bitch about.
-
some old lady's singing. over that, some sad young man plays a bittersweet guitar arrangment. the skips and scratches of the vinyl soothingly proceeds as the bass progresses. a calm vocal expression of emotion recites.
he blinks, and his tears hit the floor.
loudly.
that sad riff keeps playing, and still he moves on.
this is not mine.
this is the moment.
i am the angry sun.
-
play practice is going to kill me tonight.
-
Wavves - Wavves
Wavves is just a straight up fucking awesome band. Made up of stoner bros Nathan on guitar and Ryan on drums, these dudes made a hell of a debut album. Note: this is not their more recent and more popular album Wavvves. Besides the annoying feedback forward Intro Goth, this album hits full swing with the mighty California Goth, then rolls around to one of, if not, the best tracks of the album. The song Wavves is an awesome summertime tune, bringing us to a beach party with Wavves as the musical guests. "I wanna see the waves, no wavves no wavvves." Gotta love that. My personal favorite track is the less-known Vermin. This sad, Sonic Youth-esque song sounds like Bon Iver doing no-fi. I'm not totally sure what he's saying, but I got "but I'll burn down the town, and I'll just leave you" out of it. This song is a downtempo, depressed, simple display of the other side of a stoned beach bum. Props Nathan and Ryan for this one.
1. Intro Goth
2. California Goth
3. Wavves
4. Lover
5. Space Raider
6. Vermin
7. Side Yr On
8. Beach Goth
9. The Boys Will Love Us
10. Spaced Raider
11. Yoked
12. Teenage Super Party
Sunday
Brand New - Daisy
Well, I am the tool of tools for posting this album on here. But really, if you're worthy of life and have the respect that the band deserves, you'll buy the album soon as it hits the shelves. This album is worth the hype. I won't tear shit up and put a track by track review on here; I'll leave the conformist bashing to Pitchfork and the giving of the generic three-and-a-half-star rating to Rolling Stone. but, listen to it. Vices is the sickest track on the record. It begins with a rouch sounding hymn, most likely on vinyl as did so many emo bands in the 90's, then kicks into full out screamo. I can smell The Blood Brothers. I'm sure you've heard At The Bottom by now, but this album's got a lot more to offer.
I hope that you would do this for me.
1. Vices
2. Bed
3. At the Bottom
4. Gasoline
5. You Stole
6. Be Gone
7. Sink
8. Bought a Bride
9. Daisy
10. In a Jar
11. Noro
Don Martin Three - Discography (7", 12", Split)
(No pic for split :/)
One of the best emo bands to this day. This is their 7", 12" (aka Fire As A Metaphor), and their song off the three way split with Moonraker and Hope Springs Eternal.
Off of the 12", and overall, End Of This Tunnel is the best song. It stands as one of my favorite songs ever right now. The stream of consciousness lyrics and the solid instrumentals (also, very fun to play on guitar. I am tabbing the song on Guitar Pro soon and will put it up here. Check in!) are incindiary. Also, the lyrics to Connection are competing with Angry Son as far as insight and deepness. They are beautiful. I'll include them below.
"If only you could see the halo over the field tonight.. If only you could see
how wonderful the twisting fog is, and how it is making me feel so close to you.
Motors hum, equipment switches on and off, valves open and close,
but the truth rings clear: We have a destination. Friend, let us swim in
the afformentioned lake and feast on fish from it's icy waters. Let us for a time,
if only for a time, make it's steep bank our home upon which to dig a pit,
in which to build a fire.(Fire as a metaphor)...they passed by,
waving arms in gestures...
I continue on my way, remembering how she could smell the rain.
She smelled the rain.""
12"
1. Fire As A Metaphor
2. Crippled Hands
3. End Of This Tunnel
4. Connection
7"
1. Inefficient Engine
2. Katahdn
Three Way Split
1. Transistor
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