Monday, February 28

Dominoes Fall

Pushing a cart through the supermarket. Poptarts, orange juice; my worries like waves against a pier. Asking, crashing, pulling, eroding. Getting nowhere that can be told in short time, even though the sands will shift regardless.

       ...I forget to buy the catfood.

Flipping the channels late Sunday night, the taste of rejection fresh against my lips. The frustration of imbalance -- like little boy impudence for not getting to stay up late on a school night, clenching my fists and holding my breath.

       ...I forget to lock the door.

Driving to work this morning, trying to understand my own inability to let things go. Steering from memory, shifting lanes by instinct. The music in my ears a million miles behind me. Wipers on full, awash in the storm that closed windows make silent to everyone but me. Stop, lock, and put on the face for work.

       ...I forget to turn off my headlights.

Wide awake on a moonlit evening, driving without direction, one hand on the wheel. Electronic pulses mix with coffee and cream. Connections abridge over boneyard draws and the simplistic metaphors within words unsaid. Points scored for matching fives, as music catches up the distance and finds its way home again.

                      I forget to feel so sad.

[Listening to: Joe Jackson, "Breaking Us in Two"]


Sunday, February 27

Wardrobe Malfunction

Man... I knew it!

     stolen from the uaotmc
[Listening to: Stuck Mojo, "Revolution"]


Friday, February 18

Ho

Every now and then I'll start thinking to myself,

You know, I really do seem to know a lot of obscure facts about the film industry. And not just regular movies, but Japanese Monster Movies, Hillbilly Splatter Films, and Australian Dramas about War. In a lot of cases, I know the reasons these films were made, the books they were based off, and the names of other movies created by the same directors.

But that's not all -- I can name every drummer Frank Zappa ever recorded with in chronological order, and name the bands those drummers played with after they stopped working with him. I've argued with strangers and friends about the underlying motivations of various Star Wars characters. I've participated in online fantasy sports leagues. I've saved guitar picks and setlists from concerts I've been to. I'm white. I've entered and won local radio station contests.I know the exact day, month, and year Metallica sold out and I am ready and willing to share that information with any teenager who I deem to be even slightly unaware of what "real music" is.


     Jesus Lizard, I'm nothing but a complete and utter geek!
Thankfully though, whenever I experience these moments of worry and self-doubt there always seems to be something out there to help me come to my senses.

And that's why I want to thank you, Liono
      Thank you for helping me to
      feel good about myself again.
[Listening to: Milla Jovovich, "Beat on Ice"


Thursday, February 17

Forgetful Natasha and the Endless Cuppa Joe

It's not that I didn't feel welcome,
It's that I didn't feel at home.
Just like anything else, it's going to take some time to get it back, I guess.

     The balance, the comfort, the ease...
That feeling like what I'm doing is something I'm doing for myself and not so much a retaliation or an equal and opposite reaction. I mean, in the end it's what I need; it always has been -- but for whatever reason the process always starts out like trying to give a cat a bath or making them swallow a pill.

Why do I always fight the medicine?

Still, it was good to see old friends and catch up on old feelings. Conversations overruling menus, waitress waiting to ...wait on us, and then repaying the favor by not telling us we had stayed past closing when we finally needed a check.

But although 'one more' was gladly welcomed at first, there reached a point where it was pretty clear that three had definitley become a crowd. Who knows, maybe I should have just gone home right then and there, but it just seemed to be too early to make that kind of call.

Eventually I just started driving without worrying where I was going.

An hour later when the wine started to wear off -- the words "fuck it" started to creep into my consciousness, and I found myself sitting at a small table near the DJ booth nursing a five-dollar cup of coffee that was poured for me by a girl with pierced nipples and a tattoo of an elephant over her ass.

It wasn't really what I needed, but it's wasn't like it was gonna kill me either. Besides, the music was loud and it was somewhere to be. And even though it was the last thing you might have ever expected from the place, I gotta tell ya

       It was a really good cup of coffee.
[Listening to: T.I., "Let's Get Away"


Wednesday, February 16

Mailbox of Values

I turned down a "three for two" tonight.

And although I can't be 100% sure, I think it's the second time I've said no to one today.
       ...So why don't I feel any better about it?
[Listening to: M.S.I., "Clarissa"


Scurvy

Well, I'd better get this out in the open before everyone reads Jose Canseco's book and finds out for themselves:

I'm on performance enhancing drugs
Between fighting off the cold bug that's been hanging around the school and trying to prep my body for this race, I've been putting away about a quart of orange juice a day. And while I'm sure that it's good for me in some form or another, the side effects are starting to become a bear.

For instance, I'm finding myself punched full of energy at times when no one else is. I'm already a total nightowl as it is, but now it's like I'm completely wired at an hour when there is absolutley nothing else to do but watch Carson Daily's Last Call while wondering why you are actually paying attention to it in the first place.

Unfortunatley the answer is that by that time of night, the only thing that's on the six other channels I can get are reruns of Fear Factor. And as much as I loved Joe Rogan as a standup, there's only so many times I can watch white people walk slowly towards the camera without wishing that one of them would get hit by a car.

It makes me pine for the better sides of some of my former online diversions. The late night banter with cum-room ninnies, online domino games with friends, music chats, all those silly things. And there's part of me that wonders about walking that line again - mining for the good while not digging out the poisons... but I'm not sure I trust myself 100% yet.

It's a weird thing for me to say,
...but there it is, you know?
Anyways, where was I?

Oh yeah -- so the other night Carson is talking to Bob Costas about their favorite gangster rappers, and I started to get the impression that Carson doesn't really do a lot of prep for any of his interviews. Basically his entire show seems built around killing time and stalling until Interpol comes on to perform.

yeesh.. Interpol?

      On second thought,
      let's go see what kind of
      bugs they're making the
      white people eat tonight
[Listening to: Ice Cube, "Wicked"


Tuesday, February 15

X Sucks the Pedometer

Here's a tip for anyone wanting to know the quickest way to spot someone who's only got a few weeks left before the 15K road race he's entered and hasn't been doing a lot of actual running to train for it yet

Simply look around popular outdoor attractions and scenic routes such as Jacksonville's newly constructed Northbank Riverwalk to see if you can find anyone who is standing slightly bent over at the waist staring incredulously at the readout on a small blue electronic device that they are holding in their hand while shouting the following words through desperate, gulping breaths:

       One Mile?!
       I'm about to die here
       and all you can say is
       One fucking mile?
[Listening to: Gogol Bordello, "When the Trickster Starts A-Poking"


Monday, February 14

Hoisin

The thing about spices is that they sometimes hide. They get in your teeth, get down in your gums. They find ways to almost disappear, to avoid the touches of the ridges of your taste. Sometimes this happens without you knowing at all, but most of the time there's a sense that comes along with it. Like you know the habanero's there, and you know just how close to the heat you could be with just a flicker.

There's nothing wrong with wanting fire.
...maybe that's a lesson I've needed to learn for a long time now.

I feel like there's a new wind on the horizon. One filled with motion, kinetics, and spark. One that's traveled back and forth between two seemingly separate poles, felt the cold in the air, and now has come back to perhaps rediscover and keep the heat from the tropics below.

My job now is to tack these sails.
My test now is to stop worrying
about where this came from, or
where it's been.

       My goal now is to see where it can take me.
[Listening to: Stevie Wonder, "I Wish"


Friday, February 11

Sometimes I Feel

Like I'm
running out
of things
to say
[Listening to: Submersed, "Hollow"]


Wednesday, February 2

Icarus Wings

Why can't
you see
how high
how far
how deep
I'd
   fall

for just
a moment
of your
sunshine.
[Listening to: Concrete Blonde, "When I Was a Fool"


Tuesday, February 1

Still Life

How long has this donut been here?
Why hasn't anyone bought it yet?

I mean, it's probably been sitting here in this case all day long,
...but how bad could it be?

Certainly not as good as it was this morning
But even so -- how far gone, how less sweet?

And even if it's not all it might have been
Does that mean it's any less worth the bite?

                    - Gate Gas Station, Baymeadows and Southside

[Listening to: The Fixx, "Deeper and Deeper"


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