Robot-House Kids are Crazy
In all reality, today's weather was relatively warm. Warm for Flagstaff, and warm compared to the teeth chattering, wind blown ice-ily shitty past few days, thats for sure. So of course there was a show. Phil played, and no one ever misses 'I Hate You When You're Pregnant', not even me. Tonight was nuts though, its like the gutter-alley kids come alive when it warmer and they all have a mind-beacon that migrates them to the 111. Its been a while since I remember seeing that many people at a show, and it was nice being around the majority of my friends.
Distraction.
Eh, moving on. I have white Easter Lilly's in my room. Two pots of them... its an enjoyable change to smell it versus the hippie-style incense my mom buys. Tiger army and the unseen this weekend in Phx... that should be fun. I still have this retardedly intense urge to dye my hair again, but I have a feeling I would regret it. Aside from it ruining all possible respectable job positions, I've already bleached and rainbowed my hair enough for one year.
Preoccupied.
I am horrendously yet amazingly tired right now, and its almost like there is a CD player in my head with the Gutter Demons on repeat... But Boomer my big stupid-head boxer is asleep all curled up in my bed. He looks so damn cute that I don't want to move him. haha, wow, its truly astonishing the power animals have on humans like me.
Twitterpaited.
I decided that Robot House kids move like a breed of their own. The convulse and surge in stiff yet smoothly spontaneous jerks that feed the music vibe into their ears. It really perplexes me sometimes, especially when I realize I'm doing the same thing. Now music is a mind-fuck of its own. Especially the anti-media endorsed type. Random flashes of vague memories that aren't enough to fully recall yet are somehow enough to keep your mind twisting. Sounds clips, noises, songs, speeches, along with mental visualizations of art, trash, people, destruction and every other verb available in websters dictionary. Oddly enough I enjoy my mind playing tricks on me like this.
I think my internal CD player just switched to the Horror Pops.
Distraction.
Eh, moving on. I have white Easter Lilly's in my room. Two pots of them... its an enjoyable change to smell it versus the hippie-style incense my mom buys. Tiger army and the unseen this weekend in Phx... that should be fun. I still have this retardedly intense urge to dye my hair again, but I have a feeling I would regret it. Aside from it ruining all possible respectable job positions, I've already bleached and rainbowed my hair enough for one year.
Preoccupied.
I am horrendously yet amazingly tired right now, and its almost like there is a CD player in my head with the Gutter Demons on repeat... But Boomer my big stupid-head boxer is asleep all curled up in my bed. He looks so damn cute that I don't want to move him. haha, wow, its truly astonishing the power animals have on humans like me.
Twitterpaited.
I decided that Robot House kids move like a breed of their own. The convulse and surge in stiff yet smoothly spontaneous jerks that feed the music vibe into their ears. It really perplexes me sometimes, especially when I realize I'm doing the same thing. Now music is a mind-fuck of its own. Especially the anti-media endorsed type. Random flashes of vague memories that aren't enough to fully recall yet are somehow enough to keep your mind twisting. Sounds clips, noises, songs, speeches, along with mental visualizations of art, trash, people, destruction and every other verb available in websters dictionary. Oddly enough I enjoy my mind playing tricks on me like this.
I think my internal CD player just switched to the Horror Pops.