Had this for over a year, yet too make a post. Fairly remisce of Myspace.
Hey everyone. Myspace doesn't have a place for blogs. not that I need a blog. need is too strong a word. really i just need a place to string together thoughts in a semicoherent fashion with chronology. both for my mental sake. and you know. for ease of use for VH1's behind the music\actor\homeless special they inevitably will do on me. that's what you get for being a charismatic personality. duh.
anyways.
all I want is to be able to be like 8 again. I decided on 8 as the perfect age. but to the point. go back to being 8, but with my current mind in the young head. then i would you know. win a powerball. and start my concert piano\vocal\guitar lessons and then people wouldn't be so much goddamn better than me. I have talent. but not enough to win. fuckstick.
case in point: Panic! At the Disco. They are amazing. Their lyricist\singer is retardedly good. and I thought he was like 23 or 26 and that I would have time to be good in the future too. if only I would give it time. I would grow with some brilliant lyrics. but wait.
he is 18.
he just got to be able to buy fucking cigarettes.
the whole band is 18.
and they own me hard. and hang out with all the bands i like. my life is shallow.
maybe ill write the screenplay\book\(insert validation here) that will give my life some meaning and pith. but art escapes me. i wish i were a virtuaso. that's what I want for my birthday. skill. goddamn
anyways. that's my life. pretty useless. oh well. maybe ill just be a goddamn lawyer or something and sell my soul to the devil cause then i can waste away the days knowing that I will never be good enough to be great. yay. sweet ass. i'm excited.
but then again. i may kick ass here in a few days. no one knows. and that the problem
"praying for love in a lapdance and paying in naivety"
_johnv
anyways.
all I want is to be able to be like 8 again. I decided on 8 as the perfect age. but to the point. go back to being 8, but with my current mind in the young head. then i would you know. win a powerball. and start my concert piano\vocal\guitar lessons and then people wouldn't be so much goddamn better than me. I have talent. but not enough to win. fuckstick.
case in point: Panic! At the Disco. They are amazing. Their lyricist\singer is retardedly good. and I thought he was like 23 or 26 and that I would have time to be good in the future too. if only I would give it time. I would grow with some brilliant lyrics. but wait.
he is 18.
he just got to be able to buy fucking cigarettes.
the whole band is 18.
and they own me hard. and hang out with all the bands i like. my life is shallow.
maybe ill write the screenplay\book\(insert validation here) that will give my life some meaning and pith. but art escapes me. i wish i were a virtuaso. that's what I want for my birthday. skill. goddamn
anyways. that's my life. pretty useless. oh well. maybe ill just be a goddamn lawyer or something and sell my soul to the devil cause then i can waste away the days knowing that I will never be good enough to be great. yay. sweet ass. i'm excited.
but then again. i may kick ass here in a few days. no one knows. and that the problem
"praying for love in a lapdance and paying in naivety"
_johnv