Nov 27, 2003 13:55
I woke from a wretched dream last night, not cool at all...featured Ben and omg I've completely lost what it was all about...maybe it will come back to me...maybe not...but anywho, yeah, so I'm chilling at my Grandma's place at this very instant. It's kinda boring :b Craig's not here...everyone's been asking me about him and I obviously don't know why he's decided to stay home. Prob. to visit Raingingsza's house or whatever. That dude is always with her. Hey well it wouldn't be fair to just pull him away from his happieness, huh. When he's here he's here. He does tend to bug the shite outta me occasionally. I'm not wholly complaining about it all. Haha granpop's is yelling upstairs for me...whoops lol...hehe...no biggie...nothing's really happening yet so...w/e...hehe...
Yes! I still have the tracks that came off of Dave Ridely's mix that he sent up a year ago that I'd decided to listen to on here last Christmas...they are still on this computer which is cool b/c its supplyin' me w/ some goood entertainment...it's just a few Grandaddy tracks and "Morning of magicians" Flaming Lips track.
Apparently before Jed had left us, he wrote some poems. He wrote them for no one. I guess I'll show them, Here's one of Jed's poems:
You said I'd wake up dead drunk
Alone in the park
I called you a liar
But how right you were
Air conditioned TV land, 20 grand
Walk to the bank
With shakes from the night before
Staring at the tiki floor
High school wedding ring
Keys are under the mats
Of all the houses here
But not motels
I try to sing it funny like Beck
But it's bringing me down
Lower than ground
Beautiful ground
Beautiful ground
Test tones and failed
Clones and odd parts made you
Such a sad song there :(
Hello my name is on my shirt...pocket,
I'd rather not speak right now,
I'm remembering... something.
Most typically my dreams are dreadfully
boring,
therefore i go to these places just to
see the girls ...
with hair like hers,
with clothes like she wore,
with smells like hers,
with handwriting like hers .....
You wrote me little letters and,
you brought me lunch that time,
at my work and that poem you left,
on my windshield wrapped in plastic,
to protect it from the rain.
Protected from the rain