no, i don’t know what the purpose of this site is for. its not a web log. although i do post some interesting links (i’m really bored, i just might have to go on a cache hunt by myself if no one wants to join me) i find. its not a news site, I’m not going to mention anything about new york today. oops, there it went. it was originally to host all my poems and stories and music. which it does. but it also was meant to get me started writing again, and hence it has and hence this huge long page of nonsense you see here. problem is, this is the only place i write. so i have to throw my creativity here into what i once thought were pointless little posts. however, this in itself has evolved into a new medium for my
writing and has created a new form of its own. more similar to my ballads and observations works of before, which can be found under poems and stories on the links section. this is fiction. or is it non-fiction? anyway, it’s not real, but not all of it.
i wish i was artistic, and i would animate a flash movie of my dream last night. i can not possibly describe in words the imagery in my dreams, but since I’ve already peaked your curiosity, i will try. so me and the usual previous were in the theater watching some sort of resentation. when it was over, they started showing a bonus movie, on the wall behind us. so we had to turn around in our seats and look at the back wall where they had a huge theater screen and all setup. i turned in my seat, and propped my feet against its legs. after only a few moments i had to remove them out of unstoppable utter disgusting thoughts. i watched intently as the movie began to play. 3 monkeys appeared on the screen. they danced around waving their arms up and down and around and all the while
singing My friend the witch doctor told me what to do… they twirled around and waved their hands and arms and stuck out their tongues. everyone in the audience was bursting out laughing, and i couldn’t help but to be annoyed by my next door neighbor’s annoyingly childish laugh. the movie continued “My friend the witch doctor told me what to say…” and the monkeys singed and danced still. “And he said OOO EEE OOO AHH AHH TING TANG WADDA WADDA BING BANG” and twirled and so forth these 3 monkeys on this large screen. I rested my arm on the seat in front of me and just laid my head upon it in utter disbelief. and they continued at the slightly different tempo of the same line again…”OOO EEE OOO AHH AHH TING TANG WADDA WADDA BING BANG” is this sort of thing necessary in my life?
my favorite quote of today is: There’s a fine line between those that think they know everything and are afraid of nothing and those that are stupid and don’t understand everything they are afraid of.
in this utter state of disarray i contemplate my failures. my changes that lead to this situation and here i am with this stamp in my hand about to mail off my life to an address i dont know of to places i’ve never heard of to people i’ve never seen who control such a large part of the world with their big wands of ink that write and write without the sincerity of yesteryears thoughts whos thees and thants and other caveants intrigued the minds to engage a more bountiful conversation instead of todays straight from a book 30 days to business writing and memos and letters and faxes and forms and other states of correspondences hence none of them matches this extremely huge long run on sentence and i can justify it to the left or right or by the time of night which is later than i thought i would be but it’s not unusual for me anymore to dream about going to bed earlier. – night
i’ve never had a 23
dollar margarita, but now i know what one looks like. i can’t believe they
did what they did on the x files tonight. but i guess it is a fitting end
seeing as how the show is almost over. today i thought about relaxing.
i woke up after lunch time and eventually got outside to work in my yard.
and as i rode around on my 19 hp piece of machinery i considered if it was a
relaxing moment or just work. and i circled around and up and down and
criss cross and back over and over again. and i think i came to the
conclusion it could be relaxing. but it still feels like work. i got
in and took a nice cold shower. not all the way cold, just colder than
normal because i was hot. and then i stopped up the tub and let it fill up
as i floated to the top. that’s relaxing. where does fate lead me
tonight? as i was driving to town i electriced my windows down and let the
cool air blow through my face and that was relaxing. i even considered
doing a bit of cruising. that thought was relaxing, but that’s as far as
it went. i missed the train that i should have gotten on years ago i’m
sure. its far away now. i’m too far from it and that moment in chaos
has devoured this time frame. if this hadn’t of happened, would this have?
if that had happened this way, would this still have happened in a different
means? would it turn out this way in just this week or would it wait for
next year when the situation could cross again? last night i dont remember
dreaming anything. friday night i met a wonderful person. never seen
her before. chinese. but that’s all i remember. the orchestra
played for me tonight. i saw them twinkle the bells of the tubes and the
stars of the triangles. danced the folly round and about. this time
it ended on a sour note. everything was still the same as i left it
earlier. how incomprehensible is this? it has meaning and innuendo.
and innuendo has meaning. but one’s meaning may not be the meaning of
another. hence poetry. my poem may not mean the same to you today as
it does tomorrow. poems i’ve written in the past take on new meanings as
the years go by and i live out my future plans. some i finally understand
after a situation occurs. this. i don’t’ understand this. i
dont understand you and how you can sit there and read and say this man has no
life when you’re the one sitting there reading this nonsense. i’m creating
content for you to waste your time with. does this make me boring?
does this make me interesting? imagine if you could come to me and ask
what did you mean by when you said i missed the train that i should have gotten
on years ago? and i could give you this long speech of this and that
yonder. who where the 4? who were the 2? do i have a 1?
what is my favorite number? does everyone have a 1 for them? why is
it so hard to find that one. what if my one had an accident. and now
my 1 is -6 under? what happens to me? would there be another one?
or would i suffer the same fate and meet my one in the after? i would have
died for another. but where would that have put me now? cant you
tell how obscure i ‘m being? does it bother you? it wont get any
more meaningful than this. sorry. i protect the innocent here.
but people can be guilty as charged. i can hold a grudge. but
people change. and drastics can go to extremes. like a con artist.
who is telling the truth?
its how dreams are so
real and so unbelievable until the morning when you forget them. i
remember the highlights. and little details. together they make no
sense. told separately it makes even less sense. separately has a
rat in it. i drove from home far north to go on a road trip. i ended
up in canada. i stopped at a store i had been to before to get a drink.
in the back room of the store they had guitars and violins and different
stringed instruments i had never seen before. i chose my item to buy, but
i dont think it was a drink. i stepped up to the counter which sat in a
big square in the middle of the store. other people were talking with the
cashier in french and i tried to understand what they were saying but i didnt
know french in my dream. i paid for my item and got onto the bus. i
decided to sit in the very front. mind you, this was the very front of the
bus. like sitting on the very front of the speedboat. you know,
you’re actually in front of the driver. there was this railing and i was
small enough to fit there. so i did. another couple got on with me
there too. we rode in the front towards the ocean front. the road
kept going down and down and it got to be almost a roller coaster. we went
straight into the water. we fell out of the bus. there was this
plastic elastic tube that went deep into the water. we had to jump in and ride
it all the way down to who knows where. it was half full of water, you had
to force yourself up for air. we exited into a small building in the
bottom of the water. it was completely empty. just bare walls.
we wandered around in it trying to find something. we found nothing or i
dont remember finding anything. a previous was there. last night i
had a dream with a previous in-law. i’ve never been married. i’ve
been offered to be married by 4 people. i’ve considered 2. that was
a long time ago. where are they now?? never in a way that way one way
which way did i go away from? was it the beginning or before that?
did i ever run the race enough to say i didn’t finish? i once considered
trying out for track in high school. I’m lazy now. i get tired
running across my yard. loneliness is having to play Frisbee by yourself.
my grass needs mowing, i will mow it Sunday and then cook myself a nice supper
and watch the simpsons and x files as i eat dessert. i want to buy a bike
and start riding again. i used to ride all the time. i have a huge scar on
my knee where i had a wreck. hmm maybe it’s gone now. i don’t remember the
last time i really looked at it. i finally got my keyboard to work with
fruity loops. my stupid fault. i’ve been playing soundfonts with my
keyboard. i’m still no better than i was the last time i wasn’t any
better. i have a song i’m working on on the guitar i really like.
i’m listining ot chrono cross music right now. i went to mars music’s band
night out last night. give me a free t-shirt, free cd’s, free pizza and
drink and free music and you’ve just won a young single guys heart. i
talked with the editor of the arts section of the herald sun or something like
that. i bet i sound depressed. i’m actually rocking right now.
playing my DDR music. i have a wierd writing style. i write to
convey imagery and emotions and feelings and ideas. and i feel that my
writing style invokes that. tomorrow i’m going out with some friends for a
birthday gathering. i considered going on a road trip this weekend, but
i’m gonna hang out with my friends. i once went to a restaurant by myself
to sit down and eat because i liked this waitress. she wasn’t working that
night. i feel like i’m talking to myself.
back in the day when
i was a kid and i joked about making a sentence that started with back in the
day when i was a kid because of that stupid song i dreamed of writing of
thinking of that thought. and my random thoughts of tonight included not
that and another, but a different from someone else. my dream last night was
great. the show last night was great. our next show is May 11th.
after our show, we went to a club in Raleigh called tiffany’s. it was
salsa night, Nilda said. so we went and it was surprisingly fun.
salsa night, hence the mexican population was there. we couldn’t read
Spanish so it was pointless to try. but the dj’s had the mexicano music
pumping. and i just love how front page is giving me a suggestion of
Mexican or Mexicans as a replacement spelling for mexicano. so politically
(in)correct. i’ve always like a good Mexican song because the beats are so
lively and lots of different instruments and such a different style than our own
music. and the dance floor was packed full of couples doing their salsa
dances. we sat down near the dance floor and watched the people twirl
around each other like a egg yolk as you shake it. Mercy was just begging
to dance and she went out onto the floor and twirled around and touted her
stuff. she was the only person on the entire floor of around 30 to 40
people who was
dancing all alone. and of course all the guys were watching and
looking at her and they would all seem to glance back to me and smile i suppose
because we were sitting close enough that people thought she was my date.
eventually she recruited some people who would dance with her and i watched her
twirl around and do the step stop block stuff with people she couldn’t
understand a word they were saying. actually that’s probably not true, but
lets pretend that it is so that i can continue my thought. the language of
dance didn’t matter and as long as you had a body to hold on to and move about
and between and around it was alright. and the one young guy who realized
her dancing style, beat her to it and was dancing at least 5 feet away from her
at all times bouncing each way and that way and facing the opposite direction
and they would cross paths only every so often and it was funny to watch two
people dance together so independently. then there was the gentleman who
seemed to await my nodding approval before taking her up on the offer to dance.
and i watched him stand perfectly upright and hold his arms and her just so.
his hands never clenched hers, always they were open while her hand rested
inside of the palm. and he danced a perfect plan on the floor without ever
looking down or up or away. the ladies were beautiful and the more i
looked at them and the dance and studied the moves, i had the serious thought
that i could perform such a feat and thought of taking someone up on the offer
to dance. i noticed no rhythm to it, it was a matter of moving each other
back and forth. away and around and upside down. the forced
placement of a hand brought upon the twirling motion of the couple and each
would twirl the other over and otherwise around in various fashions the head,
arms and body of the other. i could twirl around. i could make someone
else twirl around too. i just dont know if i’d keep my balance or get too
dizzy or too distracted. i dont like to dance because i know i look like a
fool. and even though i can take my shoes off and twirl endlessly around
my kitchen floor that doesn’t mean i still don’t look like a fool.
I rarely create separate paragraphs in my news posts
tonight i contemplated cooking year old cookie mix. i still find things in
my house that reminds me of a previous. sometimes it’s like going to the
grocery store and seeing a new item on the shelf i never noticed before.
or it’s like finding a box of things that i swear someone must have snuck in and
placed there just to invoke emotions. flipping through the phone book and
finding doodles and circles and underlines, going through old notebooks and
finding grocery lists and to do notes. finding a new cd in my bookshelf.
an old document on my computer. things behind the washer machine. hairs
embedded in my clothing. a poem was written in july of 2001 about these
things and even now it still happens. i will trash the two boxes i found
tonight of expired food. perform a ceremoniously ritual of destroying old
memories. its just that it never ends. and sometimes i wonder if it
should. but its too late now. anyway, i think i’ll give that james
bond movie another try, you know, from russia with love. was that james
bond? anyway, maybe the ending will be different this time. well
maybe i’ve entertained you enough tonight. my fingers are getting tired
and my interest grows short with this now. i think i will go play a game
now, or just cruise the net or just play some guitar or just go to sleep.
someone write me