a bowl of rice a day
tomorrow is a latter day
b plus for penmanship
a manly art, the captaining of the pen
a glowing collection of random
blinking things
a can of whoop-ass
and catharsis
the seasaw is next
tell me somethin i don't know playa
8/07/11
8/05/11
lemon twists
why can't i be one of those people that just flitters from here to there every few months, like it's natural, like that's just how they roll, man, like a rolling stone... i know a lot of those people, or i knew them for a time - and i never questioned it, i just felt grateful they were around with me for a while - maybe i'll catch them later, at least on facebook
why do i feel so guilty about even thinking about going anywhere, like i ought to be here, like it's the Right Thing to Do, like i'd be so foolish and ungrateful if i packed up and tried some place new? oh, i guess there's a lot of good reasons for that feeling, but really, are there enough?
it's this weather, perhaps, it's not that it's that bad, it's that it's this bad in august - and it's like the sun is a godayum novelty - a little trinket dangled above the crib every now and then - and i never even got the chance to get bored with it - yeah, there's too much mood here - oh, i'm sure i'd find a way to bring massive nimbus moods with me anywhere
it's the age old churning of the substrate, to consign it to near-meaningless visual metaphor - but i like the sound of it - like the sound of geese honking and melding with the highway traffic - i'm going to eat another candy even though the teeth on my left side are protesting, but i'm going to use the teeth on my right side - they'll be good for a while longer
why do i feel so guilty about even thinking about going anywhere, like i ought to be here, like it's the Right Thing to Do, like i'd be so foolish and ungrateful if i packed up and tried some place new? oh, i guess there's a lot of good reasons for that feeling, but really, are there enough?
it's this weather, perhaps, it's not that it's that bad, it's that it's this bad in august - and it's like the sun is a godayum novelty - a little trinket dangled above the crib every now and then - and i never even got the chance to get bored with it - yeah, there's too much mood here - oh, i'm sure i'd find a way to bring massive nimbus moods with me anywhere
it's the age old churning of the substrate, to consign it to near-meaningless visual metaphor - but i like the sound of it - like the sound of geese honking and melding with the highway traffic - i'm going to eat another candy even though the teeth on my left side are protesting, but i'm going to use the teeth on my right side - they'll be good for a while longer
spike
yes, i think i'll go to a meeting - if i don't get sucked into the couch first - and lay my head down, and let the alien waves, now too-familiar, wash over me - demoralized - i think i made a bad choice - i don't fit here, with this job - the social dimension is what's strangling me - when i can work with people at all, it's individually, not as a group - i miss the savoury room, it's cut and dried there
oh no, don't make snap decisions, don't get off track because of an emotional spike... but this isn't just a spike, i've known this for a while - i've felt nauseated and embarrassed getting paid for nothing - so find something to do then - well after everything's been cleaned up and organized, or i've found what's left after all the happy dappy volunteers have rushed to fight over the chores... there's this awkward lack of purpose - i've been saying this for a while, and it feels truer than ever: the introvert is not being nurtured - all these attempts at extroversion are wrong-headed, so strained, so needlessly entangled, so compromised
and the center meeting goes on, and on, repeating itself, solving nothing - so, as i see it, we're faced with this problem - wait, didn't we just bring up twenty solutions, potential directions? oh, but i know how much you love hearing yourself talk, and cycle back around to the start of your grievance list again, prattle on...
what is it i do here? i dread telling people - i don't talk about it - well now i'm fucking talking, okay? every time i opened my mouth at the meeting, i felt like a jackass immediately afterward - i was trying to compensate for not talking hardly at all otherwise - a meeting gives me the impetus to speak my mind, a sanctioned sharing - but my words bounced off - i thought i had some useful suggestions but i just felt disrespected, like an idiot for talking, should have shut up - why am i here? fucking music? musical commitments are a drag - it's my play, not my work - i miss the savoury room - i don't want to be renting out my head
i should write a letter to the admins or something - maybe i can get out of this morasse
it's just been a frustrating meeting, that's all - okay? or maybe it's more than just that, maybe i'm realizing things - like, sure, this center is great and all that, but it's not part of my mandate, i'm not enthusiastic, i'm not here for these people, i'm here for myself, so i could just as well be there for myself, back home - do i really want to help bring in more high school people? i can barely stand the people that are already here - oh, i appreciate their personalities, there's no ill will, it's just that i can barely stand them - i don't dislike them, i just can't like them too much either, they don't like me, we don't get along - i'm peripheral - just as i appreciate the personality of the admins i have to deal with, they're witty and good-hearted, but interacting with them is like getting an unanesthetized root canal - speaking of which, i could probably use some dental work too, that's another thing i'm noticing today
a two hour meeting about contriving demand - fuck man, i just want to say, if it's not there, it's not there, why kill yourself trying creating it? i don't believe in advertising, it's not my thing, what do you want me to say? i'm not saying your PR sucks, i actually admire it, the posters are tastefully done, nice layout, good, on-point message - but if you see people as potential consumers, be prepared to be massively disappointed, unless you're barnum and bailey - sorry, i've been through that whole process, i'm not interested, at this stage in my life, in becoming an ad man - and yeah, it's my fault, i picked the wrong job - cause it is a whole lot of nothing
why kill yourself trying to create demand? oh, because you can't sound defeatist - never give up! we must ride this gravy train into the ground - the last days, the decaying republic, no more soup for you - or maybe it'll all get better with a new space - ebbs and flows and square dances and slack jaws... why is giving up such a bad thing? it doesn't mean i gave up on life - less is more - maybe it's an economical streamlining, or a minimalist thinned-out mix... i'll have to admit to feeling like a defeatist today, about certain things, anyway - but this is enough whining - let's all forget our troubles with a big bowl of strawberry ice-cream . It is your birthday. After all.
oh no, don't make snap decisions, don't get off track because of an emotional spike... but this isn't just a spike, i've known this for a while - i've felt nauseated and embarrassed getting paid for nothing - so find something to do then - well after everything's been cleaned up and organized, or i've found what's left after all the happy dappy volunteers have rushed to fight over the chores... there's this awkward lack of purpose - i've been saying this for a while, and it feels truer than ever: the introvert is not being nurtured - all these attempts at extroversion are wrong-headed, so strained, so needlessly entangled, so compromised
and the center meeting goes on, and on, repeating itself, solving nothing - so, as i see it, we're faced with this problem - wait, didn't we just bring up twenty solutions, potential directions? oh, but i know how much you love hearing yourself talk, and cycle back around to the start of your grievance list again, prattle on...
what is it i do here? i dread telling people - i don't talk about it - well now i'm fucking talking, okay? every time i opened my mouth at the meeting, i felt like a jackass immediately afterward - i was trying to compensate for not talking hardly at all otherwise - a meeting gives me the impetus to speak my mind, a sanctioned sharing - but my words bounced off - i thought i had some useful suggestions but i just felt disrespected, like an idiot for talking, should have shut up - why am i here? fucking music? musical commitments are a drag - it's my play, not my work - i miss the savoury room - i don't want to be renting out my head
i should write a letter to the admins or something - maybe i can get out of this morasse
it's just been a frustrating meeting, that's all - okay? or maybe it's more than just that, maybe i'm realizing things - like, sure, this center is great and all that, but it's not part of my mandate, i'm not enthusiastic, i'm not here for these people, i'm here for myself, so i could just as well be there for myself, back home - do i really want to help bring in more high school people? i can barely stand the people that are already here - oh, i appreciate their personalities, there's no ill will, it's just that i can barely stand them - i don't dislike them, i just can't like them too much either, they don't like me, we don't get along - i'm peripheral - just as i appreciate the personality of the admins i have to deal with, they're witty and good-hearted, but interacting with them is like getting an unanesthetized root canal - speaking of which, i could probably use some dental work too, that's another thing i'm noticing today
a two hour meeting about contriving demand - fuck man, i just want to say, if it's not there, it's not there, why kill yourself trying creating it? i don't believe in advertising, it's not my thing, what do you want me to say? i'm not saying your PR sucks, i actually admire it, the posters are tastefully done, nice layout, good, on-point message - but if you see people as potential consumers, be prepared to be massively disappointed, unless you're barnum and bailey - sorry, i've been through that whole process, i'm not interested, at this stage in my life, in becoming an ad man - and yeah, it's my fault, i picked the wrong job - cause it is a whole lot of nothing
why kill yourself trying to create demand? oh, because you can't sound defeatist - never give up! we must ride this gravy train into the ground - the last days, the decaying republic, no more soup for you - or maybe it'll all get better with a new space - ebbs and flows and square dances and slack jaws... why is giving up such a bad thing? it doesn't mean i gave up on life - less is more - maybe it's an economical streamlining, or a minimalist thinned-out mix... i'll have to admit to feeling like a defeatist today, about certain things, anyway - but this is enough whining - let's all forget our troubles with a big bowl of strawberry ice-cream . It is your birthday. After all.
8/04/11
fold tab A into slot B
ugh, how can i get rid of that bright white serrated sidebar demarcation? couldn't find any setting in blogger - does look nice with briar's artwork on top though
oh i see, it's bound to the text color - damn
oh wait, if i use a different template... well well - now i should actually write something for this pretty little blog - damn this drop-off - what am i, a fucking musician now? nah, screw music
oh i see, it's bound to the text color - damn
oh wait, if i use a different template... well well - now i should actually write something for this pretty little blog - damn this drop-off - what am i, a fucking musician now? nah, screw music
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