good lawyers?
i totally wrecked myself last night with that song i posted about yesterday. i went and burned it to cd and played it on repeat as i slept and i kept waking up to the slow croon "ohhhiiiiiooo" which in turn made me think of mike, which led to tears and a sinking heart. oh well, sometimes we need to wallow in self-pity, i think.
blah, then there's this book i'm reading. did you know you're almost as likely to pick out the wrong person in a line-up as you are to pick out the right one, as a stone-cold sober, sane eyewitness? and think of how many people sit in jail cells based solely on eyewitness accounts. how many of those people are innocent? it's absolutely crushing, like boulders in my chest cavity pushing on my heart, sometimes i can't handle this shit.
The Innocence Projectwhatever happened to "beyond reasonable doubt"? i guess it went the way of "freedom" and "democracy". burned up in the big ol' white house fireplace
a burdened soul
i wanted to exclaim right here in some nifty fashion, like "holy italian cured ham batman!" or "fucking effing fuck!" but i realized nothing my little head can come up with does the purpose of this post any justice, so i'll just post the lyrics and hope you all listen to the song 'cause it's just so terribly pretty and the lyrics are pretty and they mention ohio and it's just such a tremendously profound thing for me right now.
carry me ohio by sun kil moon
sorry that
i could never love you back
i could never care enough
in these last days
her tears fell
on her pages
found me well on her words
i don't know what to do or say
wading through
warm canals and pools clear blue
Tuscarawas flow into
the great lake
riding
back where the highway met dead tracks
ground and now cement and glass
so far away
heal her soul
and carry her my angel
ohio
green green green
what about the sweetness we knew
what about what's good, what's true
from those days
can't count
to all the lovers i've burned through
so why do i still burn for you
i can't say
sorry that
i could never love you back
i could never care enough
in these last days
heal her soul
and carry her my angel
ohio
children blessed
gather round the home she rests
so poor and cold in their midwest
moon and sun
flashes bringing on
my open eyes to lightning storm
the touch of mist felt soft, felt warm
on my face
graving dreams
a million miles ago you seem
the star that i just don't see
anymore
words long gone
lost on journeys we walked on
lost her voice is heard along
the way
sorry for
never going by your door
never feeling love like that
anymore
heal her soul
and carry her angel
ohio
stand a little less between me and the sun
song of the moment: carry me ohio by sun kil moon
first of all i'd like to thank the auspicious mammal for gettin' me onto sun kil moon, inadvertantly. thank you thank you, i love hearing new tunes, especially when theyre as pretty as the one on your profile. as a result i have located the album and am listening to it and i'm impressed, sounds kinda like pinetop seven, which is one of the best bands ever. EVER.
this is a list of random fun stuff ash and i made:
kriminy
jeepers creepers
jimminy crickets
KRIPES
CRUD
DANG
fudge
frick
golly
färfegnügen
gee wiz
we decorated the list with gold-painted macaronis.
mike used to call it maca-yoni. and it's far too hot to be wearing earphones.
while we're on the subject of hot, my skin is so crispy. in the sun, we mowed and mowed and whacked and sawed until our yard looked like a grassy haven for playing fetch with my puppy dog. then i played fetch with my puppy dog. it feels good to do something that doesn't involve ftp addresses, data, urls, dns' etc etc. except now all the spiders that were in the overgrown bushes we hacked up are crawling into my house in droves, uninterrupted armies of 8 legged creatures, marching, looking for me 'cause they know the best revenge for us cutting down their homes is to just appear before me and laugh as i shriek in sheer terror and have to consume large amounts of anything alcoholic in order to relax, just enough to barely sleep.
gad. now i'm going to have nightmares about spiders laughing at me. way to scare yourself court. i'm going to stop writing now, cause i sound like a turd and i'm tired and crispy and hot and i need some sleep.
p to tha mothafuckin' s
the modest mouse show on wednesday night was a horrible, horrible disappointment. i was seated in the children's section apparently, where there was a clustered growth of security guards and all they did, as i tried to look deeply into isaac's soul, was shine flashlights in my face, have conferences in front of me so all i could see was thee top of isaac's head and the drumsticks coming up over the drummers' heads. one tiny little security tough shit bitch came over and had the nerve to tell me to put my foot back behind the aisle line. i laughed at her, i couldn't help it, i burst into laughter and gave her a salute.
it was honestly the worst show i've ever seen. and because the crowd wasn't able to basically breathe, the mouse couldn't feed off crowd energy and they did like a 40 min. set.
i was hoping they wouldn't play float on, just to spite all the kids skipping their homework to see the show.
serves me right for waiting 'til a band gets a little mainstream before seeing 'em.
For The Widows In Paradise, For The Fatherless In Ypsilanti
i have gone psychotic over this song
I have called you children
I have called you son
What is there to answer
If I'm the only one
Morning comes in paradise
Morning comes in light
Still I must obey
Still I must invite
If there's anything to say
If there's anything to do
If there's any other way
I'll do anything for you
I was dressed inbarresment
I was dressed in wine
If you had a part of me
Will you take your time?
Even if I come back
Even if I die
Is there some idea
To replace my life
Like a father to impress
Like a mothers morning dress
If I ever make a mess
I'll do anything for you
I have you called you preacher
I have called you son
If you have a father
Or if you haven't one
I'll do anything for you
I'll do anything for you
I'll do anything for you
I'll do anything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you wow wow wow
sigh.
humphumphump
i like the sound of hump. it sounds so desperate.
holy ass, jack nicholson! mike said he could call me! he's going to have my letter with my phone number in it any day now. my nagging need to hear his soft i love yous again is going to be met! nothing like a good friend's declaration of love, if only there could be a hug to go with it. pushin' my luck, i know.
tomorrow or the next day or the next day, the phone could ring and i could talk to one of my most cherished friends in the world, for the first time in 3 or 4 years.
this is how i feel:
fucking tired
im so fucking tired. i dozed and dozed and dozed at work today. after feeling an imprint of the "F6" key on my forehead, i decided something had to be done. so i created the wake the fuck up playlist:
i dozed again. you know when you fall asleep listening to the angry voice of the politically discontent attempting to promote civil disobedience, you're fucking tired.
best day EVER
yesterday was effin' wild. i haven't been so happy for an entire day since i was like 6 years old.
around 10:40am, i went to get some water and came back to my desk and there was a letter in my in tray, from mike (!!!). i felt compelled to fall to the floor in a fetal position and sob while i read that he's fine. he's not back on smack and he's healthy and seemed even a little more cheerful than you would expect someone to be in his situation. i grinned like a fucking fool all day, even as i headed into the we are wolves/int'l noise conspiracy/trail of dead show, which made me feel like small cotton ball creatures climbed into my ear canal by the thousands and scrunched themselves up and remained there to this very moment. what? huh? whatever.
there was this pieceashit turd in the pit who decided that the day of the show was a good day to try NOT showering and NOT wearing deodorant and dressing in a few layers of clothing and getting all sweaty and dripping and effin rank and then slamming into me repeatedly. he met with a couple knuckle sammiches to the head. hint, boys, it's fucking unpleasant and gross to nix the shower and rub against girls at a show leaving boy-slime streaks on their clothing. GET CLEAN. i don't care about your personal philosphies or preferences, YOU SMELL BAD. don't get it on me. please. thank u.
i just go to the trouble of making myself smell pleasant, even in the heat of a trail of dead mosh pit, don't ruin that with your hippieness. i like to smell good.
the show was incredible. in-effin-credible. even in my "elsewhere" state-o-mind, writing letters to mike over and over in my head, the little criminal is ok, except a broken cheekbone from being sucker punched in the yard and six months in the hole. i slept so well last night, just aware that he's breathing out there. mmmmmmikey, i miss you. so excrutiatingly much.
catch the cash fairy?
they're really scratching the bottom of the pale now huh. arg. bad marketing makes me furious. well, it's not necessarily bad, it's probably accomplishing it's goal. half-wits the world over are probably trying to catch the cash fairy. what bothers me, is that there is a large enough demographic which, when targeted by such simple advertisements, actually respond. it's troublesome that there is a target market big enough to make paying for such an ad and ad space worth kmart's while. this is one return on investment that can actually reflect the number of myspace users with lower than average intelligence.
"i'm a money lenderrrrr, i have fortunes, upon fortunes"
i feel kinda giddy today cause i had an idea pop in my head, well it was kinda triggered by outer stimuli, i didn't come up with it originally, but it's sorta floatin around in there and it's a fun idea.
i'm also cheerful 'cause i got a new son and daughter:
Right to Left: My middle son, Radio Friendly Unit Shifter and the male twin, Thingy. The iBook is my nephew, still unnamed, but if the earth's poles don't shift, it'll be named after Randy Moss.
Right to left: The female twin, yet to be named, but i'm pushing for Penelope after a very sweet pinback song, and my eldest son, 777. The iBook is my niece, Chrome Plated Heart.ahem. nerdy enough for ya? how about if i told you it's all on a wireless airport network? and we use a mac classic to keep the office door open when it's windy.
hah. you wish you were me.
let's go to the mall
he highs on fridays and lows on saturdays can only be evened out by a trip to the giant asian super mall.
custard buns!
notevenjailnotevenjailnotevenjail
anyone else notice how often interpol sings about prison? uncle frank? is this a joke?
i keep printing out his pictures like as if one will come alive 'n i can just surround him with warmth to combat the chill i'm sure he has now. and there are all these mikes and they all make me think of him and so does b. the neighbour who wears the cologne mike sprays his letters with and so do the afghan whigs, outkast, blonde redhead, the pixies, sonic youth and any band on smells like records. anyone with an american accent, anyone with green eyes, anyone with dark features, anyone who yells "TANG!", anyone right-handed who owns a left-handed jagstang just cause they loved kurt so much, the Tao, Kabbalah, the number 7, the number 3, yellow nissan xterras, ford taurus SHOs, nissan maximas, ford mustangs, o-HI-o, my tattoo, irish people, breathing, light, life. it all reminds me and its indescribably depressing and maddening and a curse on america and effin' canada and all nations that incarcerate, for punishing those who love our world's criminals. they are loved. whether or not you wanna accept it. i love him. and i feel punished. n' i ain't done shit.
thunder
weezer, the smashing pumpkins and most of eric's trip
it's such acne ridden teenager puke music.
just thought i'd let you all know so you have a better understanding of what you might want to avoid listening to. like there are any weezer virgins out there...
rivers cuomo is hot, though. that needs to be real clear.
melancholy and the *finite* sadness
somedays the space in front of me is silent and empty. nothing is reachable. sometimes it's nice. just to have no one to have to listen to. no one watching. just to be me in my head.
other days it feels lonely. i'd give my right foot to have someone or something distract me. i only have a few options as it stands. bed, calling friends who are currently out getting drunk, working, or writing a letter. i don't want to write the letter. i'll cry and then i'll get a headache and everything will suck as i drift off to sleep and dreams will come about sad and lonely geniuses in danger. i can't face it right now.
i won't call friends because with one in particular, a little desire is gettin' in the way of clear thought. could just be that i laugh a lot when he's here. endorphins. i'm not sure how to be single again.
working is done for tonight. no more intelligent work is coming out of this head until dawn.
so, bed it is. g'night kids.
"i am unsane"
the sanest days are mad?
"True friends stab you in the front."
-Oscar Wilde
7 more yrs with this knife in my front.
mjf
here's hopin' my little dawg remains unharmed.
flash in the pan pop band poetry
80 windows - nada surf
Clusters of people talking secretly to each other.
In a bar you cannot talk openly to anyone you don't already know.
4 year olds, they have got the right idea: they jump the line and hit it on the nose.
When we sit and we get quiet, then we look and see who's home across the way.
There are 80 windows we can see,
It's christmastime and they all have the same tree.
You tell me the patterns you already see,
I wonder if they see us in our bed.
You said you like the one with the father who always eats with his son.
I like the rows of lights because they keep me calm.
I feel far away from you. So what else is new?
The moon is closer to the sun than I am to anyone.
When we sit and we get quiet, then we look and see who's home across the way.
You said you like the one with the father who always eats with his son.
I like the rows of lights because they keep me calm.
I feel far away from you. So what else is new?
The moon is closer to the sun than I am to anyone.
I feel far away from you. So what else is new?
The moon is closer to the sun than I am to anyone.
The moon is closer to the sun than I am to anyone.
The moon is closer to the sun than I am to anyone.
