three pounds of shit in a two pound bag.
my theme music: redencion nueve-once.
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"dont you think it defeats the purpose of being in a bad mood if you dont know why youre in a bad mood to begin with?" my brain tells me, maybe if you give her a blank stare she will quit talking. i didnt come here to socialize. god bless the birthday boy's soul (seriously), but im here for the music. the jazz. not to chatter over their talent with disrespect.
theres my standard-"emo"-i'm-so-withdrawn-from-society-i-need-a-livejournal-to-communicate-(to-fucking-deal-with-life)-introduction. now that i have passed that like a painful bowel movement we can carry on, unbloated (deflated?) and limber.
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this weekend saw me fail to meet par, over and over again. friday night we played with a band from chile, which was awesome, but nothing about the show met my expectations. mostly on the part of our band, myself particularly. i couldnt kick high enough or stay on the drum set long enough. and the 3 hour drive home was slow suicide. every mile an inch thru my wrist. i bled to death long before we got home and was buried in black sheets on the bottom bunk.
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saturday morning was deficient in showers and proficient in questions and hunger. interviews: on an empty stomach & under dirty uncombed hair. thank god it was just for the radio station where that kind of thing is actually valued. haha.
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saturday, itself, through saturday night was a goddam irritation. work and more work, even though i dont remember being in my department, or doing my job for that matter. it was taxing enough just to have to be there. my body hurt. my tired neck is worn thin and shoe string tight. or it was. very nearly, i think, snapped off where the jaw encases the jugular. where it boomarangs the wires. very nearly walked out on me. i saw that gleam in its eye. that look of betrayal. the lipstick on its collar. blood red. something so tacky i would never wear it. evidence of double-cross. enough to convict a traitor.
"traitor." in arabic, a potential marking.
(if you are lost then i have done well)
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saturday night through sunday morning was spent.... on this goddam thing. and this morning was two tickets to rollerball too many. we should have just gone to the park. if we needed it to be dark we could have closed our eyes. afterwords, with band practice cancelled, i drove to my parents' house. i played baseball with my little brother (tiene seis anos). tambien, yo habl
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"dont you think it defeats the purpose of being in a bad mood if you dont know why youre in a bad mood to begin with?" my brain tells me, maybe if you give her a blank stare she will quit talking. i didnt come here to socialize. god bless the birthday boy's soul (seriously), but im here for the music. the jazz. not to chatter over their talent with disrespect.
theres my standard-"emo"-i'm-so-withdrawn-from-society-i-need-a-livejournal-to-communicate-(to-fucking-deal-with-life)-introduction. now that i have passed that like a painful bowel movement we can carry on, unbloated (deflated?) and limber.
------------------------------------------------
this weekend saw me fail to meet par, over and over again. friday night we played with a band from chile, which was awesome, but nothing about the show met my expectations. mostly on the part of our band, myself particularly. i couldnt kick high enough or stay on the drum set long enough. and the 3 hour drive home was slow suicide. every mile an inch thru my wrist. i bled to death long before we got home and was buried in black sheets on the bottom bunk.
------------------------------------------------
saturday morning was deficient in showers and proficient in questions and hunger. interviews: on an empty stomach & under dirty uncombed hair. thank god it was just for the radio station where that kind of thing is actually valued. haha.
------------------------------------------------
saturday, itself, through saturday night was a goddam irritation. work and more work, even though i dont remember being in my department, or doing my job for that matter. it was taxing enough just to have to be there. my body hurt. my tired neck is worn thin and shoe string tight. or it was. very nearly, i think, snapped off where the jaw encases the jugular. where it boomarangs the wires. very nearly walked out on me. i saw that gleam in its eye. that look of betrayal. the lipstick on its collar. blood red. something so tacky i would never wear it. evidence of double-cross. enough to convict a traitor.
"traitor." in arabic, a potential marking.
(if you are lost then i have done well)
------------------------------------------------
saturday night through sunday morning was spent.... on this goddam thing. and this morning was two tickets to rollerball too many. we should have just gone to the park. if we needed it to be dark we could have closed our eyes. afterwords, with band practice cancelled, i drove to my parents' house. i played baseball with my little brother (tiene seis anos). tambien, yo habl