cold kiss offff a liar.
well, it has been ages since i've updated--so i entertained the possibility of an update for a while earlier, and realized that it was definitely due time.
i've been swamped with shit to do. a lot of work. a lot of band stuff. booking a tour, writing music, practices, recording, driving to orlando--overwhelming, but satisfying to know that i'm getting shit done.
today at work, i came to the realization that i am obsessed with thought. normal people go and eat on their lunch breaks. i go outside of the store, and sit on one of the benches outside my starbucks, and just stare. i will look at my reflection on the dirty windowpane of the dry cleaning store. i will wonder what the old woman inside the tailor shop is thinking, or if shes tired of routine much like i am. for half an hour, i will count the cigarette butts on the floor around me, i will wonder if Florian is going to walk out with his Cranberry Scone or if he is sconeless today (i mean, after all--sometimes he provides his own Natures Valley Bar for his Tall One Pump Nonfat Mocha). i will observe my plastic city, and hope that my half an hour break wont fucking MATTER in a year because i will be getting out and living. not many people do that nowadays. on my breaks--i just sit there. i don't talk. i don't eat. just think.
i hate getting sold out by people that i would wait forever to hang out with and be with.
i want to write words that matter, and music that isn't trite.
tonight should be a fun gathering with my band, and my best friends.
nana is lame. haha fucker.
i've been swamped with shit to do. a lot of work. a lot of band stuff. booking a tour, writing music, practices, recording, driving to orlando--overwhelming, but satisfying to know that i'm getting shit done.
today at work, i came to the realization that i am obsessed with thought. normal people go and eat on their lunch breaks. i go outside of the store, and sit on one of the benches outside my starbucks, and just stare. i will look at my reflection on the dirty windowpane of the dry cleaning store. i will wonder what the old woman inside the tailor shop is thinking, or if shes tired of routine much like i am. for half an hour, i will count the cigarette butts on the floor around me, i will wonder if Florian is going to walk out with his Cranberry Scone or if he is sconeless today (i mean, after all--sometimes he provides his own Natures Valley Bar for his Tall One Pump Nonfat Mocha). i will observe my plastic city, and hope that my half an hour break wont fucking MATTER in a year because i will be getting out and living. not many people do that nowadays. on my breaks--i just sit there. i don't talk. i don't eat. just think.
i hate getting sold out by people that i would wait forever to hang out with and be with.
i want to write words that matter, and music that isn't trite.
tonight should be a fun gathering with my band, and my best friends.
nana is lame. haha fucker.