Sunday, August 31, 2003

An essay conceived to my parents.

The way the world works certainly revolves around rules. And this itself involves placing a conjecture...a type of assumed value upon things, which, otherwise, would be worthless.

Money is an excellent example. The entirety of us as a world today earns its very foundation from this "conjectured value," and thereby infrastructure, stolid foundation, and the very power of us in society is found to build everything from nothing; and this everything even itself being, ironically, nothing. But with this falsified value...suddenly faith in nothing is everything. Belief in nothing is everything.

Nothing and everything is the balancing game of rules. This is what rules are all at once, or, this is what, more or less, rules in its form is.

There are different types and methods to rules. Some are strictly enforced immediately upon obstination, while others are simply laws...and are always there; sort of like the laws of physics where everything has a set parameter, a set way at which it should be.

In a broader sense this is what the societal machine is. We are born, and upon, we are immediately shown how to correctly behave. We're also right away slowly coming to understanding how gravity affects us; how that if we touch a burning stove, it causes pain. And we never go back to that pain unless we carelessly and without thought touch it.

And here is the best example I can give of the kinds of rules that are just sort of, always toiling their work: as soon as we are born, we begin to die.

How is that a rule? A rule is something that is to be carried out, whether with your consent in the manner or not. So saying that, it is realistically impossible to bend past the laws and twists that are rules.

To do so is only to later experience consequential truths.

And most of the time this is done with one's knowing all these consequences and these rules. It's just like getting hit by a jolt of pain...but yet some endlessly fight it. Some, after touching their hands and tainting their hands in the bled blood that is rules being hacked and broken find a pleasure in it. So they continue doing it.

Eventually they are so numbed that their prerogatives don't even have reasons...they just do it as a twitch. Like a grimace or an uncontrollable scream.

In this way rules themselves are contradicting...they are meant to certify a way one should act, or serve as. A way one should be.

Yet they are meant to be broken to then be changed. It's an endless cycle that can be seen in the simplest, most succint cases...yet otherwise can happen with the most uncouth complexities.

Just take a look at Darwin's theory of Natural Selection. It states that nature's tendency is to keep those organisms, which, over long periods of time, mutate on accident to a more survivable form within their habitats. Such is the way with everything in a sense.

We as humans, though, don't exactly have a documentable method to our adapting best to our situations. Sometimes we overlook the most simple things, which, in turn, either rob us of what we sought to gain, or in a strangely lucky way come out better because we did something different than what we meant to. That's exactly what rules cause you to do...make the best out of a given situation.

Of course, some will repeat and repeat what is the wrong course of turn in the eyes of others over and over again. Such is our nature as humans. We let our emotional tendencies overcave our logical ones.

People don't like change. They like rules to be what they are. They like familiar things to be the way they are. But often it's forced upon one to change...it happens when, in society, we slowly grow older and older.

With the cognizancy to question a million different things within our minds from an abstract, original form, we soon learn to fight what we have and had. We fight with retribution, with retaliation. We think that every wrong can be made right.

It's true...but only in a luminescent sense. Things such a rules are meant to be bent...or broken. That's the way of humans. We will fight what we see as stupid and imbicilic. With open eyes, or simply fickle purpose we do this.

We do it even if it causes pain...the thought of it one day finally changing upon all this received pain gives us our contention. It makes the endless pain worth the while...to finally feel what we think should've been the right way, or find out it is the right way once we awaken and put our opinions aside.

It was like this with the blacks. They fought against it endlessly, ruthlessly.

At first a slave will think that they only serve their purpose.

Intellect changes all of this. The slave finally realizes that he's just as able as a white.

Again it's easy to see the false values. Based upon religious reasons, most whites during the time of slavery were given reason to their reasons by a possible other false ideal called God. The thought of slaves even went nearly as far as being called a "rule."

Most people never understand exactly how someone feels about something. They can't accurately, with concise ability, put on another person's exact feeling. But they can try, most often. But they will only be mostly internal with themselves in even trying this...especially if where they stand on something is quite meaningful to them. So they end up not looking at both sides in a sense.

False values. That's what I see rules as. What the way God is to me. What they way the world is to me.

I cannot believe in something without the truth being the certain, absolute truth. So I bend them as much as I can. I abuse them and smash them until they suit me as a person.

Perhaps there isn't a thing such as a truth. But I still try to find a truth. Like an annoying, buzzing fly flying inside my brains in an endless circle I go over and over these things...bending and molding and crushing, trying to find some truth. Find what I as a person want to believe. And rules and nothing will change that. I will see things as I want them to be seen. It is my will as a human to do this. And by this rules try to drain. They try to suck what little humanity and what little self I have or had.

I am so muddled over everything that I have taken in and found that all I can see now is one big, crumbled image of what I'm supposed to be.

So I think. And I fight. And I take in what I think is right. And I drain in what is wrong.

All that will truly ever matter is that I die standing by what I believe. And to this day, I only believe in the opposing sides; I believe that there is nothing to believe in, only false identities. False faces. False meanings. So I will continue to break, bend, burn.

I will do what is right from my eyes, no one else's. It may be selfish...but it's not like I don't take in everything I do. And what others do. And from that my rules are conceived...the very things that govern the physical and mental stirrings inside and outside of me.

To doubt or guide or leash these is to make the consequence of my own actions that much more hurting and hard. I don't want a crutch. I don't want an open door.

I just want the truth. Or, if there is no truth, then I want nothing.

All you as parents can do is show me that door and build that crutch into me. I am the one that must open it.

And gagging me with a large, damp towel, placing handcuffs to my already chained arms, and hitting me downward in the endless downward spiral of life is only making it harder for me to cope. Harder for me to see the reasons.

You cannot throw me into the door. You cannot open it for me.

I am the one that must open it.
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D'oh!

The world is an ethereal doughnut for me to package and claim. Every single little sprinkle and every little sugary tint is another great movement to greatness.

I don't like my doughnuts chocolately. I may be racist, but the darker side of the moon sure isn't the brightest. I often dwell in this spot nonetheless. In this little spot of nothing that is a chocolate doughnut.

I often count up my demons, hoping that everything is not lost. And then I turn to my counter, and like some magic man on some magic drug, there's my doughnuts. All packaged, all wonderful, all glittering in the light of my room.

And they never taste so good after waiting so long.


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Saturday, August 30, 2003

Music

Coldplay-A Rush of Blood to the Head
He said I’m gonna buy this place and burn it down
I’m gonna put it six feet underground
He said I’m gonna buy this place and watch it fall
Stand here beside me baby in the crumbling walls
Oh I’m gonna buy this place and start a fire
Stand here until I fill all your hearts desires
Because I’m gonna buy this place and see it burn
Do back the things it did to you in return
Ah,ah,ah
He said oh I’m gonna buy a gun and start a war
If you can tell me something worth fighting for
Oh and I’m gonna buy this place, that’s what I said
Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head

And honey
All the movements you’re starting to make
See me crumble and fall on my face
And I know the mistakes that I made
See it all disappear without a trace
And they call as they beckon you on
They say start as you mean to go on
Start as you mean to go on

He said I’m gonna buy this place and see it go
Stand here beside me baby watch the orange glow
Some’ll laugh and some just sit and cry
But you just sit down there and you wonder why
So I’m gonna buy a gun and start a war
If you can tell me something worth fighting for
I’m gonna buy this place, that’s what I said
Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head


And honey
All the movements you’re starting to make
See me crumble and fall on my face
And I know the mistakes that I made
See it all disappear without a trace
And they call as they beckon you on
They said start as you mean to go on
As you mean to go on, as you mean to go on

So meet me by the bridge, meet me by the lane
When am I going to see that pretty face again
Meet me on the road, meet me where I said
Blame it all upon
A rush of blood to the head

Coldplay-Everything's Not Lost
If you ever feel neglected,
If you ever think all is lost,
I’ll be counting up my demons, yeah,
Hoping everything’s not lost,
Everything’s not lost,
When I’m counting up my demons.
There’s always one for everyday,
With the good ones on my shoulder,
I drove the other ones away.
If you ever feel neglected,
If you think all is lost,
I’ll be counting up my demons, yeah,
Hoping everything’s not lost.
When you thought it was over,
You could feel it all around,
Everybody’s out to get you,
Don’t you let it drag you down.
Cos if you eve feel neglected,
If you think that all is lost,
I’ll be counting all the demons, yeah.
Singing out oh yeah
Singing out oh yeah
Singing out oh yeah
Everything’s not lost,
Come on yeah, oh yeah, come on yeah,
Everything’s not lost,
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Everything’s not lost,
Come on yeah, oh yeah,
Come on yeah x2
Oh yeah, come on yeah,
Everything’s not lost
Sing out yeah
Come on yeah x2
Everything’s not lost
Come on yeah, oh yeah
Sing out yeah
Everything’s not lost

Coldplay-Spies
I awake to find no peace of mind,
I said, how do you live as a fugitive?

Down here where I cannot see so clear.

I said, what do I know?
Show me the right way to go,
And the spies came out of the water,
But you’re feeling so bad cos you know,
And the spies hide out in every corner,
But you can’t touch them no,
Cos they’re all spies, they’re all spies.

I awake to see that no one is free,
We’re all fugitives,
Look at the way we live.
Down here, I cannot sleep from fear no.

I said, which way do I turn?
I forget everything I learn,
But the spies came out of the water,
But you’re feeling so bad cos you know,
And the spies hide out in every corner,
But you can’t touch them though,
Cos they’re all spies, they’re all spies.

And if we don’t hide here,
They’re going to find us,
If we don’t hide now,
They’re going to catch us where we sleep,
And if we don’t hide here,
They’re going to find us.

Coldplay-Yellow
Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you,
And everything you do,
Yeah, they were all yellow.
I came along,
I wrote a song for you,
And all the things you do,
And it was called "yellow."
So then I took my turn,
Oh what a thing to have done,
And it was all "yellow."
Your skin
Oh yeah, your skin and bones,
Turn into something beautiful,
You know, you know I love you so,
You know I love you so.
I swam across,
I jumped across for you,
Oh what a thing to do.
Cos you were all "yellow,"
I drew a line,
I drew a line for you,
Oh what a thing to do,
And it was all "yellow."
Your skin,
Oh yeah your skin and bones,
Turn into something beautiful,
And you know for you,
I’d bleed myself dry for you,
I’d bleed myself dry.
It’s true, look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine for,
Look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine.
Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you,
And all the things that you do.

Queens of the Stone Age-Song for the Dead
It’s late enough to go drivin
And see what’s mine
That’s a study of dying
How to do it right
You’re a holy roller
Get your bed in the loose
If you’re hanging around
I’m holdin the noose

Come a little bit closer
And get on tight
In a hurse rollin over
Just a track in the line
Fuck it

Come on, let’s go drivin
Come on, let’s take a little ride
That’s the study of dying
How to do it right

Queens of the Stone Age-The Sky is Fallin'
The sky is falling
Human race that we run
It left me crawling
Staring straight at the sun
Only a moment I notice
Every dog has his day
I paid attention
Cost me so much to today

For so long
I saw only wrong
But now to remind
It’s a waste of time

Close your eyes and see the skies are falling

I wanted something
Nothing blank I don’t know
It’s all deflecting
Stones are easy to throw
Only a moment I notice
Hours, days left behind
Of wasted, useless
Selfless, none of a kind

For so long
I saw only wrong
But now to remind
Not to go back to the low
That has drained my life so low
That has drained my life so low
That has drained my life so low

Close your eyes and see the skies are falling

Queens of the Stone Age-First It Giveth
I’m in you
You’re in me
I can’t tell

You’re so cruel
More than me
It is true
That’s right

Loyal to
Only you
Up your sleeve

I want some (come on, take it)
Of all of you (it’s yours)
Trickin me

First it giveth
Then it taketh away

I would beg
I would plead
I would shake

On a hook
Dangling
By the way

I’m so young
And beautiful
(that’s right)
(I’m slick)
I’m no fool

Time goes by
Tables turn
Now I know

First it giveth
Then it taketh away

Queens of the Stone Age-No One Knows
We get some rules to follow
That and this
These and those
No one knows

We get these pills to swallow
How they stick
In your throat
Tastes like gold

Oh, what you do to me
No one knows

And I realize you’re mine
Indeed a fool of mine
And I realize you’re mine
Indeed a fool of mine
Ahh

I journey through the desert
Of the mind
With no hope
I found low

I drift along the ocean
Dead lifeboats in the sun
And come undone

Pleasently caving in
I come undone

And I realize you’re mine
Indeed a fool of mine
And I realize you’re mine
Indeed a fool and mine
Ahhh

Heaven smiles above me
What a gift there below
But no one knows

A gift that you give to me
No one knows

Queens of the Stone Age-Mosquito Song
I know, I know the sun is hot
Mosquitos come suck your blood
Leave you there all alone
Just skin and bone
When you walk among the trees
Listening to the leaves
The further I go the less I know
The less I know

Where will you run?
Where will you hide?
Lullabies
To paralyze

Fat and soft, pink and weak
Foot and thigh, tongue and cheek
You know I'm told they swallow you whole
Skin and bone
Cutting boards and hanging hooks
Bloody knives, cooking books
Promising you won't feel a thing
At all

Swallow and chew
Eat you alive
All of us food that hasn't died
And the light says

Somehow they pick and pluck
Tenderize bone to dust
The sweetest grease, finest meat you'll ever taste
Taste, taste
So you scream, whine, and yell
Supple sounds of dinner bells
We all will feed the worms and trees So don't be shy

Swallow and chew
Eat you alive
All of us food that hasn't died

Radiohead-Bones
I don’t wanna a be krippled kracked
Shoulders wrists knees and back
Ground to dust and ash
Crawling on all fours.
When you’ve got to feel it in your bones.
Now I can’t climb the stairs
Pieces missing everywhere
Prozak painkillersss.
When you’ve got to feel it in your bones.
And I used to fly like peter pan
All the children flew when I touched their hands

Radiohead-Just
Can’t get the stink off,
He’s been hanging around for days.
Comes like a comet,
Suckered you but not your friends.
One day he’ll get to you,
Teach you how to be a holy cow.

Don’t get my sympathy hanging out the 15th floor.
You’ve changed the locks 3 times,
He still comes reeling through the door.
And soon he’ll get to you,
Teach you how to get to purest hell.

You do it to yourself you do
And that’s what really hurts is
You do it to yourself just you,
You and no-one else
You do it to yourself

Radiohead-Black Star
I get home from work and you’re still standing in your dressing gown,
Well what am I to do?
I know all the things around your head and what they do to you.
What are we coming to?
What are we gonna do?

Blame it on the black star,
Blame in on the falling sky,
Blame in on the satellite, that beams me home.

The trouble words of a troubled mind, I try to understand what is eating you.
I try to stay awake, but it’s 58 hours since that I last slept with you.
What are we coming to?
I just don’t know anymore

Blame it on the black star,
Blame in on the falling sky,
Blame in on the satellite, that beams me home.

I get on the train and I just stand about now that I don’t think of you.
I keep falling over, I keep passing out, when I see a face like you.
What am I coming to?
I’m gonna melt down.

Blame it on the black star,
Blame in on the falling sky,
Blame in on the satellite, that beams me home

Radiohead-Iron Lung
Faith.. you’re driving me away
You do it everyday
You don’t mean it but it hurts like hell.
My brain.. says I’m recieving pain
A lack of oxygen from my life support
My iron lung.

We’re.. to young to fall asleep
To cynical to speak
We are loosing it, can’t you tell?
We scratch.. our eternal itch
Out 20th century bitch
And we are grateful of our
Iron lung.

Suck.. suck your teenage thumb
Toilet trained and dumb
When the power runs out, we’ll just hum.
This.. is our new song
Just like the last one
At total waste of time.
My iron lung

(the headshrinkers they want everything)
(my uncle bill, my belisha beacon)

And if you’re frightened, you can be frightened
You can be x ok!!
Anf if you’re frightened, you can be frightened
You can be x-ok!!


(the headshrinkers they want everything)
(my uncle bill, my belisha beacon)

Radiohead-Fake Plastic Trees
Her green plastic watering can
For her fake chinese rubber plant
In fake plastic earth.
That she bought from a rubber man
In a town full of rubber plants
Just to get rid of itself.
And it wears her out, it wears her out
It wears her out, it wears her out.

She lives with a broken man
A cracked polystyrene man
Who just crumbles and burns.
He used to do surgery
For girls in the eighties
But gravity always wins.
And it wears him out, it wears him out
It wears him out, it wears him out.

She looks like the real thing
She tastes like the real thing
My fake plastic love.
But I can’t help the feeling
I could blow through the ceiling
If I just turn and run
And it wears me out, it wears me out
It wears me out, it wears me out.

And if I could be who you wanted
If I could be who you wanted,
All the time, all the time, ohhh... ohh...

Radiohead-Pyramid Song
I jumped in the river and what did I see?
Black-eyed angels swam with me
A moon full of stars and astral cars
All the things I used to see
All my lovers were there with me
All my past and futures
And we all went to heaven in a little row boat
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt

I jumped into the river
Black-eyed angels swam with me
A moon full of stars and astral cars
And all the things I used to see
All my lovers were there with me
All my past and futures
And we all went to heaven in a little row boat
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt

There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt

Radiohead-Street Spirit (Fade Out)
Rows of houses all bearing down on me
I can feel their blue hands touching me
All these things in all positions
All these things will one day take control
And fade out again and fade out

This machine will will not communicate these thoughts
And the strain I am under
Be a world child form a circle before we all go under
And fade out again and fade out again

Cracked eggs dead birds
Scream as they fight for life
I can feel death can see it’s beady eyes
All these things into frution
All these things we’ll one day swallow whole
And fade out again and fade out again.

Radiohead-The Bends
Where do we go from here?
The words are coming out all wierd
Where are you now when I need you?
Alone on an aeroplane
Falling asleep against the window pane
My blood will thicken.

I need to wash myself again to hide all the dirt and pain
I’d be scared that there’s nothing underneath
And who are my real friends?
Have they all got the bends?
Am I really sinking this low?

My baby’s got the bends
We don’t have any real friends
I’m just lying in a bar with my drip feed on
Talking to my girlfriend waiting for something to happen
And I wish it was the sixties
I wish I could be happy
I wish
I wish
I wish that something would happen..

Where do we go from here?
The words are coming out all wierd
Where are you now when I need you?
They brought in the cia
The tanks and the whole marines to blow me away
To blow me sky high.

My baby’s got the bends
We don’t have any real friends
I’m just lying in a bar with my drip feed on
Talking to my girlfriend waiting for something to happen
And I wish it was the sixties
I wish I could be happy
I wish
I wish
I wish that something would happen

I want to live and breathe
I want to be part of the human race

----

Off I go for a walk.
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Wednesday, August 27, 2003

School (as posted in my other journal)

I arrived per time at about 8 of the clock.

Walked first into the library, supposing I would be able to waste my time there until class would begin. I supposed wrong.

Upon each computer there was a red this-is-important-so-you-must-read-it sign on each computer. Upon it, engraved in black print, "These computers are to be used for educational purposes only."

So I walked out.

Last year I had been able to sit there randomly on OB during my freetime and do nothing..but not this year I guess.

Walking into the hall, I gazed as faces passed me. I did what anyone would do--checked people out. Although I'm sure nobody would admit this, it is what makes school at least somewhat bareable. Not that it is most of the time, anyways. But it adds some numb to the pain.

As I did this for whatever amountage of time, I came upon my dear friend Michael Raatz, whom I had met and have known for some two or so years.

He immediately commented upon my new hair. Recently I had gotten it cut, by my Mom. It is now much shorter...and I spiked it easily.

After this exchange, we continued walking around endlessly until time enough had passed. Then I was off to first period.

Walked in and sat down. Then looked around at those around me, picking out faces and placing them over the memories of them in my head. Found who I knew...who I didn't.

Then from there school digressed into its way.

Most of the teachers simply went over and over the pointless rules of their classes, explained what it would be and what would be needed to pass..

"All that really matters is the reading...that is what will get you an A in this class, or a B." Or another, "This is Kosseland...when you stepped out of that red carpet into this blue carpet, you came under my rules."

And so on, and so pointlessly so forth.

Journalism was definitely a highlight. I saw Chelsea, whom was in the class with my last year, again. She's nice, I like her. How much I am uncertain, but it's just nice to have a class with someone that I feel I can actually be myself around.

We had to fill out these STARS information sheets about ourselves...like we did in J1. I basically didn't try on it...

I ranked my top things which I would enjoy doing. It had told me, and asked me nicely as a bucko, so I did it.

When I got down to the other stuff...the stuff that was about your favorite this or that, I decided to be sneaky and clever.

For my favorite cereal, I proudly put down Corn on the Cob. Showing it to Chelsea, she laughed.

On "favorite snack" I put cracky crackers.

I was almost amazed at my own genius.

On "favorite bands" I put Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Radiohead, and Metallica. Looking over, I saw Chelsea had put John Mayer. He's good.

Under my "favorite author" I put, quite simply, and quite being the narcissist, "Me."

Chelsea followed suite and put Mitchell Smith on hers.

At the very bottom of the thing, it asked, "List five ways we can improve the newspaper this year!"

I wrote something along a short poem, along with, "Where do we go from here/The words are coming out all weird."

Ah. And possibly the best one ever. It asked if I was "in any extracurricular activities." I grinned, putting "Newspaper you dweeb."

That one also made Chelsea laugh.

After that, I was forced to come stand up at the front of the class. "It's time to play the magazine game," Winter, my Newspaper adviser said. He called up some other names, then mine.

"I'm going to hold up some magazines, and you're going to clap if it fits the person," he said, "And here's a model. Because otherwise I'm not sure if you guys'll do it right."

He came out in front of the class, then

Clap clap clap clap

All in rapid succesion. The rest of the class followed.

Then he began holding up magazines up above the four or so people's heads. They clapped randomly mostly...giggling like the gigglers they were.

When it was all over, I had gotten Newsweek. Winter went around us four people asking if we liked our magazine.

When he came to me, I already knew what I was going to say. It was pre-meditated. Like some crazed court call. HELL NO.

"Would you read your magazine?" he said as I saw it coming.

"Hell no," and some people laughed.

Then he went to the other two people, then I sat down.

After sitting down, we were given these bags. One each. They had been sitting there when we arrived.

I looked inside like a kid opening a birthday present.

A couple of pens...some suckers...some candy. Notecards.

Play-doh.

I took the play-doh out right away, took off the cap, and brought it to my nose.

The smell of the stuff is seriously great. It's inspiring, really. Best smell I can remember.

I told Chelsea this, kept sniffing it. Then brought it out for a while. It was white.

Then I sniffed it even again.

Mostly after that the class was over. That was probably the highlight of the day.

It sucks. I already have homework. And in Geometry of all classes. I am going to hate this class, I can already tell..not that I don't hate nearly every other class, but yeah.

Newspaper and AP English seem like the only classes that are worth any of my time.

I looked in the book and tried to read the first chapter we were supposed to. It talked about conjectures.

A conjecture is basically an assumption without any evidence supporting it...and from there I totally lost what in the hell the book was saying. It was saying something that Geometry follows logical patterns. It showed a block, then two more blocks adding on it, then four, then..yeah.

Pointless to me..and not making sense. Maybe I'll read it again, but I don't know.

I don't really even like the teacher of that class either. I don't like that class period.

I feel stupid when I walk in there. You see, I took pre-alg in 9th grade, so I am a year behind math-wise. So when I walked in, a whole bunch of Sophomores just stared at me. And the class itself has this cold feel.

The entire time it was freezing in there. Not to mention the teacher seems pretty cold too..for some reason he reminds me of what a college professor might be like. Beh.

Otherwise it was an okay day, I guess. I tried to keep myself positive, but especially in Geometry I got negative.

So I was off and on depressed all day...that's nothing new though.

I always have this feeling of hating living sometime during the day where I just want to not exist. But I live past it.
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Just lyrics

Deftones-Hexagram
Paint the streets in white!
Death is the standard
Breach for a complex prize!

I think it's sweet of you
And your parents are proud...
But I would expect it from anyone
Now to protect life's indigenous sound!

Worship! Play, Play [x 3]
Worship! Play! Worship! Play
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play [x 3]
Worship! Play! Worship! Worship!

How the streets they swell!
While the animals make their way through the crowds!

If you keep listening you can hear it for miles...
God, I trust everyone quicker with every faint smile!

Worship! Play, Play [x 4]
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play [x 4]
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play
Worship! Worship! Worship!

And the crowd goes wild!
And the camera makes you seasick!
God it's so sweet of you and I know you're proud
And the car bomb hits quick click, faint smile!
It's the same sound... it's the same, same... sound....
And the crowd goes wild!
And the camera makes you seasick!
God it's so sweet of you and you know I'm proud
And the car bomb tick ticks with the same sound!
Its the same sound! With the same sound...
Hexagram...


Good song..
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Monday, August 25, 2003

I continue my last post...

There was something in my hand. It felt..strange.

But I knew what it was right away. And it was like an old friend had given me some memory of him.

It's beautiful how a carrot looks in mellow light. All dim and orange...almost neon, like the construction signs that paint a construction zone.

My first thought was to eat the thing. Just gobble it down and fill my stomach with its flaky crunch. But there was a voice in the back of my head...it sounded so familiar. And then I knew what that was too. Didn't the carrot already tell?

Don't eat the carrot, Chase. Don't eat it. It's not for you.

The voice grew even closer. It felt like it was brushing against the back of my head as if it were breathing. And huffing. And puffing.

It's not for you...

Suddenly there was a twisting in my head..a teetering madness. It flew around me until my vision blurred like the glowing red tail of comet.

Then I was there. And it was him...he was breathing on my neck. Just like I had almost thought he was.

I felt him grab at my hand as I finally took in where I was.

All over me the tender dirt smiled...and it made me smile too. Smile like the fan boy I was. And just knowing he was in back of me made me smile even more...made me smile like a clever devil.

The carrot came out of my hand. I could hear him gnawing it. I could smell its scent slowly hitting my nose.

I tried to turn around. Tried to say if I could have a piece of the carrot. Just wanted to see him finally...

And there he was...but as soon as he was, he was gone.

My eyes opened as he faded...and someone was over me. And it all came back in.

Then out. Then in.

My brain found its man upstairs. He finally got on his little busted knees and it was all there.

I, of all people. Mr. Dwitt. Mr. Chase Dwitt. The one that had said, as quirky as ever, that he was going to be something big. That he had made big plans. I had hit a tree.

It wasn't too big of a deal? No, it wasn't. Or maybe it was?

I would soon find out.









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Thursday, August 21, 2003

You know something is wrong with the world when..

I was a simple man. I had a simple plan.

When I was born I was going to grow up. And when I had finally grown up I was going to get a job.

But then I realized that this place was insane.

Yesterday I walked out of my house. I was off searching for a job again...just doing nothing.

I passed through the park as I glanced at my paper, searching through it like a deranged and lost freak. And without noticing, I ran straight into a tree.

I fell down, crying, and clutched my head where I had been hit. The damned tree nearly killed me!

It turns out thing that had split my skull straight open...like a scalpel knife knowing its intended purpose.

Some people of course came to my rescue. Yes. Little old me, the one that said he was going to grow up and get a job, yet still can't even see a tree coming when he's walking.

I was in a delirium as the people crowded down and over me. A lady, by the name of Nancy Nam, later told me she had heard me mumbling something about carrots. She said I had sounded like "that old looney kids bunney dude."

Bugs Bunny of course. Of course.

He's like my freaking idol. I grew up watching him. Back when I was saying that I'd grow up and get a good job and not end up like some bum on the street.

Bugs was one of the reasons. He was just like me. In the big, open place that is the world. This place that's all colorful. But he'd rather be in his rabbit hole, eating his prize carrots.

And just like me, he didn't really have a place where he was.

I mean, if a man like me can't even see a tree coming when it hits him...

Well, he'd rather be in his rabbit hole and eating his carrots.

So I can understand why, in my delirium, I had mumbled like some narcissistic crimp about Bugs Bunny.

I mean, I had only hit my head. Hard. Right in front of a tree.

It can't be that bad. It might be damaging. But it can't be that bad.

But it was sure the beginning of the end for my world.
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Wednesday, August 20, 2003

Another blog?

Don't have any idea how active this little sheedaddy'll be..

I already have two other blogs; one of which I update pretty often...the other's still trying to get off the ground. Hm.

Not sure what type of blog this'll be either. I don't know if I'll make long rantings like in my Death is a Word blog...or if I'll just post random song lyrics, my poems, and a tad about my life like in my livejournal blog. Not sure.

How about this: you otaku geeks tell me what to do. Heh. Tell me what kind of blog you'd like to see.

Yep. Nep is officially a cool word..
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