Pointlessness is Cleanliness
Go to your Calendar and find the first entry for each month of 2005. Post the first line of it in your journal, and that's your "Year In Review".
January: Yesterday I bought Here Come The Warm Jets by Brian Eno on CD.
February: I was about 75 yards away from one of the large "confrontations" Monday.
March: I felt her today.
April: Christian was removed from the band today.
May: God, is there a woman out there for me?
June: Me and Malery broke up after a short-lived, awkward relationship.
July: I am a real asshole.
August: I have returned.
September: I've read the Bible through going on five times now, and there is no passage that explains things as blundly and as concrete as this.
October: Here, in its entirety, is James Warren's parody of The Divine Comedy.
November: The top ten reason that I pray every night I will move to Panama City.
December: Go to your Calendar and find the first entry for each month of 2005.
I am with an angel from the Big Island named Hannah. It is Christmas break. I've bought more presents for people this year than in the last four combined probably. I miss nothing sometimes, as that was all I had for a while. I also regret failing to take advantage of all the oppertunities presented to me this year, but it wasn't a complete loss.
I have been to Washington, California, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee, Illinois, Virginia, Washington DC, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Deleware, New Jersey and New York this year. I have been in four bands, one of which was quite successful in that quaint local sense. I regained my dignity and confidence. I read a vast number of books on heady subjects. I expanded my vinyl library. I ripped nearly four days worth of music onto my computer. I constructed an underhanded catapult out of iron, wood and blood. I shot clay pidgeons with my favourite firearm. I watched a Hawaiian sunset with a beautiful girl. I bought a girl roses on Broadway and kissed her. I was the head of my AP World History class. I joined the PEACE Club and became Vice President. A number of people confide things with me. I learned a good deal of a language that, until this year, was only known by experiences with Stephanie and Taco John's. I rocked without regard of consequence. I supported homeless people and fledgling artists with my own money. I didn't shave very often. I wore womens' deoderant. I began to listen to modern music. I found the Maui Tacos in New York City. I stood in the shadow Thomas Jefferson, and laughed at the pathetically small Lincoln Memorial. I got in a car accident. I was pulled over by the police for driving thirty miles over the speed limit racing for the sun with Samantha. I gave advice, both good and bad. I quit a band after they kicked James out, and because they generally didn't sound too great. I stayed sober. I acted in a church production of the Nativity as King Herod. I became interested in the art of persuasion. I bought things I don't use enough to justify their purchase yet. I repaired some friendships and shattered others. I decided I was a Muslim and a Christian. I found The Philosophy of Andy Warhol. I let other people use my stuff, perhaps more than is prudent. I broadcasted live radio shows attacking the school staff, lawyers, Senators, specific people and bands, the Moanalua Winds and Symphonic Band and the Pope. I picked up trash at random places. I nearly failed a class and dropped it. I ate at a California Pizza Kitchen, one of the most dissapointing restaraunts in the world. I recorded original music. I supported couples and provided them space to make out in secret. I gave rides to a gay black kid. I braved 20 degree weather with no gloves.
January: Yesterday I bought Here Come The Warm Jets by Brian Eno on CD.
February: I was about 75 yards away from one of the large "confrontations" Monday.
March: I felt her today.
April: Christian was removed from the band today.
May: God, is there a woman out there for me?
June: Me and Malery broke up after a short-lived, awkward relationship.
July: I am a real asshole.
August: I have returned.
September: I've read the Bible through going on five times now, and there is no passage that explains things as blundly and as concrete as this.
October: Here, in its entirety, is James Warren's parody of The Divine Comedy.
November: The top ten reason that I pray every night I will move to Panama City.
December: Go to your Calendar and find the first entry for each month of 2005.
I am with an angel from the Big Island named Hannah. It is Christmas break. I've bought more presents for people this year than in the last four combined probably. I miss nothing sometimes, as that was all I had for a while. I also regret failing to take advantage of all the oppertunities presented to me this year, but it wasn't a complete loss.
I have been to Washington, California, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee, Illinois, Virginia, Washington DC, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Deleware, New Jersey and New York this year. I have been in four bands, one of which was quite successful in that quaint local sense. I regained my dignity and confidence. I read a vast number of books on heady subjects. I expanded my vinyl library. I ripped nearly four days worth of music onto my computer. I constructed an underhanded catapult out of iron, wood and blood. I shot clay pidgeons with my favourite firearm. I watched a Hawaiian sunset with a beautiful girl. I bought a girl roses on Broadway and kissed her. I was the head of my AP World History class. I joined the PEACE Club and became Vice President. A number of people confide things with me. I learned a good deal of a language that, until this year, was only known by experiences with Stephanie and Taco John's. I rocked without regard of consequence. I supported homeless people and fledgling artists with my own money. I didn't shave very often. I wore womens' deoderant. I began to listen to modern music. I found the Maui Tacos in New York City. I stood in the shadow Thomas Jefferson, and laughed at the pathetically small Lincoln Memorial. I got in a car accident. I was pulled over by the police for driving thirty miles over the speed limit racing for the sun with Samantha. I gave advice, both good and bad. I quit a band after they kicked James out, and because they generally didn't sound too great. I stayed sober. I acted in a church production of the Nativity as King Herod. I became interested in the art of persuasion. I bought things I don't use enough to justify their purchase yet. I repaired some friendships and shattered others. I decided I was a Muslim and a Christian. I found The Philosophy of Andy Warhol. I let other people use my stuff, perhaps more than is prudent. I broadcasted live radio shows attacking the school staff, lawyers, Senators, specific people and bands, the Moanalua Winds and Symphonic Band and the Pope. I picked up trash at random places. I nearly failed a class and dropped it. I ate at a California Pizza Kitchen, one of the most dissapointing restaraunts in the world. I recorded original music. I supported couples and provided them space to make out in secret. I gave rides to a gay black kid. I braved 20 degree weather with no gloves.