"you know that feeling when you want to fuck every chick in the room?"

i'm good at being awkward
but we are wallflowers tonight
but he said nobody is chill in jersey anymore
he grew up with screamo and never really wears this

halloween parties in december
my eyes are glued and melting

stand still! stand still!

i'm choking on my heart
as my dry mouth crumbles to dust

and now i'll be home for the holidays
fist fighting in catholic schools

don't wanna be right.

"and you're so fragile
a butterfly caught in a storm"

it's a good life, end of discussion.

hiding out loud.
rivalries.
janthony.
carload of thieves.
start something.

meat.

chicken breast on a sandwich.
then a turkey sandwich.
gummy bears.
steak.

meat you there.

After a 5 year long relationship, I am leaving vegetarianism. Thanks for the memories and iron deficiency.

sink into me.

saying goodbye is still as hard as it ever was,
even though it's not forever.

confessions of a futon-revolutionist.

I've never seen Star Wars or The Matrix.

and tomorrow I must awake BY ten o'clock, which after a week of sleeping til almost noon, will be hard - or more realistically, normal. Yet I suppose waking up at 10am is still late compared to most on a Wednesday morning. so fuck me, right!

listen to the weakerthans, too.

boat less booze cruise.

"I'm not gonna say i beat a kid up,
but i nudged him pretty hard."

So I'd give the Lawrence Arms a 5 out of 10 based on their slurred, sloppy drunk performance last night in Brooklyn. I think it was such a bad idea to have 2 shows in a row. I figured it was a day and a night show - not two consecutive shows. That would probably explain Brenden Kelly's slurred banter and missed-bass notes all night. Most songs were played too slow and the 2-song "encore" was kind of a let down.

I still had a blast though, receiving a high five from Chris and Chris #2.
And the stage dive ruled.






love what you are,
not what you would like to be.

i met the walrus.

nightingale.

STAY WHAT YOU ARE by Saves the Day
is still one of the best albums ever.

and SINK OR SWIM by Gaslight Anthem
is becoming one of my [new favorite] classics.

golden.

so things have been really good lately. maybe my neglect to this blog is a sign of that. i'm not sure!

i haven't been worrying about nonsense like i usually do. not beating myself up over things i can't control and my self-esteem is at a calm, comfortable wavelength.

music is currently dominating my life - like always - but at an enjoyable, no-stress level.

and i think i know why i'm feeling so good and optimistic. or maybe it's a coincidence. either way, i'm golden.

good things to look forward to the next month. yes yes yes.

OH! AND I CANNOT STOP LISTENING TO GASLIGHT'S 'SINK OF SWIM.' DAMN THOSE BOYS.

tunes, lately.

into it. over it.
the great explainer.
algernon cadwallader.
explosions in the sky.

what's next? hitler day with super sales?

Let's celebrate Columbus Day by walking into someone's house and telling them we live there now.

truly bizarre.

truly bizarre.
the only two words to describe last night. and the last two I uttered before passing out on Anthony's floor early this morning.

unchanged faces on unchanged people. the set and scenery are the same. almost untouched since freshman year. but maybe that's just the problem. nothing has changed.

originally, I never wanted to leave that place. but I'm glad I did. I got out.

explain.

...from a stranger.

it's four o clock in the morning
and all you're thinking is "sorry"
there's no use in sleeping in anymore

you left your phone and your wallet
no sunshine left in your pocket
you looked up and down then
drowned your soul in the Hudson
(you drowned your soul in the Hudson)

and to think in this world
it's never been this cold
we're taking too big of steps in the wrong direction

we chase the waves.

This emerging story of 18 year old Tyler Clementi really sickens and saddens me. It's just so tragic, and to post his "farewell" status ("Jumping off the gw bridge sorry") on his facebook page is just a hard kick in the gut.

I feel terrible for his family and even worse for the two kids responsible. They have to live with this heavy heavy guilt for the rest of their lives. I cannot imagine that.

I never knew Tyler yet I really don't know how to express my feelings right now.



Rest in Peace, from a stranger.

untitled demo.

Whatever you expect,
I hope it's not respect
when you're the first to open your mouth

And maybe you'll lean back
to ash your cigarette
and fall two stories down right to your death

Not one of us would shed a single tear
to be quite honest, I would just drink beer all night
and reminisce of shit that I won’t miss

and know that all this breath
is just like your address
as in the 3-2-1 excitement that you're gone

At one time this was "friends"
but there's nothing here to mend
I hope you fall off your high horse instead

Not one of us would shed a single tear
to be quite honest, i would just drink beer all night
and reminisce of shit that I won’t miss

I can. I can't.

I can. I can't. I can. I can't. I can. I can't. I can. I can't. I can. I can't.

i'm always second guessing myself.

Well, nothing has changed in the last 30 or so days. I haven't inhaled THC once, giving myself a much-needed mental break. You see, I thought that if I took a break, my anxiety and over thinking about stupid shit and all this self-doubt would resolve, as marijuana sometimes tend to have that effect.

side note - on the bright side, my imagination has been out of control lately - in the best way possible.

what a contradiction.

I have decided that when it comes to my emotions - mainly confidence and others along those lines - I am a fucking schizophrenic. Example: I'll wake up feeling shitty about something; hours later, I'm super stoked and very confident about whatever it is. Is that normal? I don't know. Am I even making sense?

cue "the first eviction notice." and this is why I love the Lawrence Arms:

...attention fading, breathless i'm a mess, kissless i'm in distress...i've abandoned old identities, skin i couldn't fit into, songs i couldn't write, my voice will fade into this starless night...can i get much blinder? can i kick myself much harder? have i accepted this, to torture myself? you can't see me, have i invented you? i'm barely breathing, youre so easy to believe in, and it's so depressing that i'm always second guessing, that i'm always second guessing, that i'm always second guessing myself...

heart burns.

Why is Tom Gabel's solo album Heart Burns proceeding [that piece of shit] White Crosses so good? He totally led us all on. Oh, Tom Gabel.

words of wisdom:

"always keep a cheese sandwich in your trunk."

beat.

Okay, this is kind of embarrassing but I will admit I watched most of the MTV Video Music Awards tonight. It was more like 45 minutes of show and the rest commercials. And on 3 channels. And as I watched, I had some thoughts that I would like to share now, in chronological order:

1. Lady Gaga needs to be put down.
2. Justin Bieber was clearly lip syncing. Bummer.
3. Taylor Swift's new song about Kanye was very well written. Yikes.
4. Kanye West is a lunatic.

PBR is for TOTS.

I love New York City. Just the anticipation of arriving at Penn Station and walking up and out to be greeted by street vendors, yellow cabs and the Empire State building. Nothing compares.

I don't have the words - or patience for that matter - to discuss and describe and review the last 36 or so hours of life. I couldn't really ask for anything more or anything less. Good company, good tunes, good times.

Unfortunately for that girl on the train, we'll be laughing at her expense for the next year or so.

Poor girl. Lucky us.

transitions.

I'm a jack of all trades, but a master of none.

Overwhelmed and out of shape,
who knew twenty would feel like this?

mediocrity gets you pears.

So Bristol Palin, proud mother and daughter of Sarah Palin will be featured on the upcoming season of Dancing With the Stars. Joining her will be reality tv douche "The Situation." Hah. Apparently, he's getting a cool $5 million or something like that. But after all, he is a celebrity...eh, maybe the American public needs to redefine the words "star" and "celebrity." He is less of a [real] celebrity than Kim Kardashian. I'd rather see coked-out Paris Hilton dancing on live television. I'm thinking twat-slip = ratings?


In other news, the "war" in Iraq is "over."


and I'm already working on new Carload of Thieves material, in my head at least. I've got many ideas and I'll be experimenting with new sounds and instruments.


School tomorrow. New work schedule. SIGH.

sanctions.

laying belly up on the basketball courts,
the bug parade was never ending.

we discussed war and pointed out the train's echo,
how it called out to suburbia late at night.

the pool's light illuminated the park,and these courts
surrounded by sleeping homes
(and restlessness).

what a way to end the summer.
it was truly beautiful.

i saw water.

tonight I finally bonded with [the band] Tigers Jaw. it's great when such feelings can arise from just listening to a certain band, randomly, on a certain random night. it's a greater feeling to know that doing such a thing as "bonding" with a band is possible, and really quite frankly, awesome when it happens.

it's aurally pleasing as well as mind-easing.

quiet.

did you know that we could make sounds?

I confide in pages
to outlive time.

This week flew by my face. Thursday night already, with the weekend emerging out of deep sleep. I cannot believe it's already close to the end of August. Summer's slipping into a coma, and fast. Come to think of it, the past three hundred and sixty five fucking days have speed-walked through the cracks.

Well at least it was a successful day, musically. And as stated just seconds earlier, the weekend is approaching. I can smile. We can all smile now.

oh, albert!

black lungs.

she smelled like an ashtray at a truck stop off the garden state that hasn't been emptied for 60 years and has just been piling up cigarettes and cigarettes and cigarettes and ash. every time she spoke and/or exhaled my eyes burned. i wish i was kidding, for her sake anyway. my eyes must have mistaken my work setting for a late night bar, i'll tell you that much.

bless that woman's heart.

...and lungs.

start something.

the thought of taking orders from a yellow scrap of metal with 3 colored lights within seems a bit odd to me.

running, jumping, standing still.

so, one day of wiffle ball (with stick ball rules - not even a real game!) and my entire body is fucking sore. i'm in the worst shape of my life. i reached my physical prime when i was ten. seriously, i can''t swing a fucking bat without being sore for the next day or three. then softball last night. killer game. and yet again, i woke up feeling like an 80-year-old world war two veteran with shot knees, a droopy Achilles and a beaten rib cage. someone get me a hemorrhoid tube to sit on all week. i'll return it, no worries.

i told myself today that once i'm not sore anymore, i'll take up running again. i think it's something i just need to do. i don't want to be sore like this after some pussy physical activity each and every time (and last year after the annual softball game, i was). and i'm afraid i'll wake up from a night of fucking and be sore...oh wait.

and in conclusion, after so long without wearing sneakers, they make you feel like you're walking on clouds. man, i'm fucked.

musicbrain.

Night Three of Insomnia

My brain is a music box of sorts. But now I wish it had an off switch. I've been trying to sleep but just can't. Whether it's a band I've been listening to lately or a new song I've been working on; it's being composing in my mind.

This may sound crazy but the songs in my head keep me up at night.

Also, why do I find the need to scratch my mosquito bites until they bleed down my leg or until my arm is crimson?

take lots with alcohol.

Damn, this song is great.
I wish I could take credit for it.

cali-bound.

7/15/10 | 7:08am

With less than two hours of sleep, I'm surprised to be so wide awake and feeling good and ready. I've stopped biting my nails for the last two weeks or so and at 2am wide awake in bed, I resisted every urge to bite them down to the bloody bone. Success. Fear and anxiety has turned to impatience and excitement.

Well, I've got an hour til boarding time, For now, I'll just marvel in amazement at toddlers on leashes. Oh, and for some odd reason, the young couple waiting beside me looks very familiar. Hmm, oh well. Let's take to the cloudy-now-clearing-up-to-blue Jersey sky! Ciao!

jack d.

drunk off whiskey.

and it's only 10:20 here in fucking California.

I still can't believe I'm here, yet I'll be home in 2.5 days. What a different world.

let me run.

Well, it's finally here. it's happening. i have to wake up in less than five hours, shower, and head to the airport, where a ticket to California awaits me. I'm anticipating everything and the entire trip will be something to remember forever.

It will be a real eye-opener for me, since I've never seen the states passed Missouri. Anyway, the tales and stories and lessons will be grand.

Stay rad, Jersey.

we are all just lovers.

We walked two hours straight, thirty plus blocks. Penn Station to the water through Battery Park, Battery City and eventually, we arrived at the seaport. We had made it through the heat, drenched in happiness.

The back of a long line of kids of all kind awaited us. NY hipsters; the late 20s crowd; Mohawks, but not punks; cameras-around-necks, etc.

I could see Jersey City and New York City. One of my favorites and one I've never stepped foot in. Both looked like well-lit cardboard cutouts, perfectly aligned with the view from the island.

Well, Portugal. The Man was fucking incredible. I find it hard to listen to their songs now because they are all that much better live. Their albums don't do them justice, but hey, that's not their fault. I wish I was good enough in my lifetime to be half as good as them, with their ability to jam and send emotions up and down my spine. Damn!

hiding out loud.

every pipe.
each step.
a flush or a door.

all is audible.

taking refuge in a room, in a home
this, is the safety net of the times.

into it. over it.

I've finally washed my hands and head clean of these songs. They crawled and suffered to get out, but were finally exhaled.

Empty lungs and raw throats, familiar fists and pupils.

The thrill was there, but the skin was empty. The same bones, now drained of adrenaline.

confessions of a surburban terrorist.

wow, it's already june. and to think, this weekend begins my nonstop schedule until august: delaware, toms river, virginia, california, and cape may. i'm beyond excited. this is by far my busiest and what's shaping up to be my best. ever.

my music is shaping up and i'm very happy about it all, for once. my acoustic album, which started out as 5 songs, is now at 12 and i'm almost done. and very excited. other than that, hiding out loud is brewing behind the scenes and shit will rock, in time. it'll be worth the work and wait, for everyone i'm sure.

oh yeah, don't buy bp.

favorite-sounding albums.

distinct tones, flowing with organic sounds

Polar Bear Club, Sometimes Things Just Disappear

Lawrence Arms, The Greatest Story Ever Told

Saves the Day, Stay What You Are

Portugal. The Man, Censored Colors

RX Bandits, ...And the Battle Begun

how the other half lives.

With all these diamonds
come mounds of coal.

this is desperation at your doorstep.

For every man,
a restless dusk.

And as for each bone,
a ruin until dawn.

we are desperation at your doorstep.

. . . of a new summertime.

it's not about the comments.
or for that matter, the hair-flips.

advertise for friendship. commodify "the companion." the sidekick, if you will.

the back porch podcast for the late-night smart ass.
the shins are so comforting. so inviting, I guess.

failure > not trying.

I want new asphalt,
bloody fingers with calloused tips.
interstate highways and cheap food.
unfamiliar faces with something in common.

The sinking pit-in-my-stomach feeling has subsided and deflated and I'm feeling alright. A few more pieces must be put into place before we set fourth and charge into battle, but tomorrow holds promise. We're not blind, you know. It's been a while since I've felt so ready. This is it. "Get off your ass and do this. Try, at the very least." This was never about winning nor was it about giving up. Time won't wait...but that's okay because I won't either. I won't wait until it is far too late.

raise the youth.

the earth is glowing today.
the swings are back in swing.

this postcard landscape.
a film-set neighborhood.

perfect lawns.

drugged up sons,

moms.

a ribbon on each mailbox.
a hole in every heart.

just cause you can't see your cage doesn't mean that you are free
when there are laws against nature,
but it's okay for you to be addicted to over the counter prescriptions

"overcome (the capitulation)"
rx bandits.

the truth is you see troops, not children.

my strap snapped and my belt ripped all in the first minute of the second song.

one bruised lung, a black eye, and a bloody lip - all in one major-bearded blow -
seem to be signs and symptoms of a good show.

it feels good to be back under the lights, sweating profusely, again.
as the rain fell on us, it rinsed away the old and showered us with the new.

let's just take it one day at a time.

review: Chamberlain Waits | The Menzingers

I compiled a list of my favorite and not-so favorite 2010 releases that the year has graced us with thus far. I plan to write a little review for all of them, but rather than post them all at once, I'll do them when I get the time. I don't plan on reviewing each and every song on any given album, but I'll delve into one or two.

With that said, let's begin with The Menzingers' sophomore full length, Chamberlain Waits. Released only yesterday, the album has been dominating my iTunes & iPod & Last.fm since then.

Overall, the album is a bit more melodic than their last [EP], Hold On, Dodge! The vocals are less aggressive, but they make it up with good harmonies and even better melodies. The two voices really mesh well together. Like every album, a Menzingers' would not be complete without a [solo] guitar sing-along song. "Male Call" is just that. It's got a strong chorus accompanied by even better backups. "So It Goes" is hands down one of my favorites on the album. It's got those familiar aggressive vocals accompanied with a sweet chord progression. The chorus just straight-out rules. Definitely going to be a crowd favorite in shows to come.

The only thing I would have done differently is switch the opening track with the second track. "I Was Born" is super catchy and in my opinion, would've been a better intro to Chamberlain Waits. I also would have dropped the song "No We Didn't." I just don't care for that one.

The Menzingers have certainly matured and progressed and I can assume they will only get better (and bigger) with time. Punk bands like this are hard to come by these days, and they seem to be doing everything right. Fuck yeah!

Standout Tracks:
I Was Born
Time Tables
Tasker-Morris Station
So It Goes

Check it: www.myspace.com/themenzingers

great leaps forward.

I want to pack a bag. I want to pack a backpack full of a few of my favorite things. And I want to go. I want to leave. Saying goodbye won't be hard at all, just deciding which direction to head in will be.

I've lived in the same town, in the same square mile area, for my entire life. 20 years, 7300+ days, breathing the same recycled air. Seeing the same faces. Watching the same cars drive back and forth to the same, dead end destination. The thought is depressing. All I know is this town and to tell you the truth, it's terrible.

And my job. Yeah, it's great to have a steady job (almost 5 years - a quarter of my human existence), but kids my age have had several jobs. Lived in several towns in several states.

I'm just craving change. And the time to act is approaching in my rear view mirror, gaining on me.

maybe, the best plan is having no plan.

...and the battle begun.

"the positive will always overcome the negative"

A dimly-lit blue sea of hands under a horizon of smoke as dreads plague the canopy of the crowd. Matt Embree emerged, dressed in light, like the second coming of Christ.

After playing through "...And the Battle Begun" from front to back, nearly at perfection, Embree let out a simple soft-spoken "thank you" to the audience, raised his arm up and topped it off with two fingers straight out in a peace-sign formation. He just stood there, still in the moment. What a sight to see.

Freedom.

in that case, i'm a celebrity.

"there's no such thing as rock stars. there's just people who play music"
- frank turner.

the name Dancing With the Stars implies celebrities dancing. kate gosselin (of John and Kate plus 8) is not a star and certainly not a celebrity. she'll be rehearsing at home and flying to california and back to compete on the show. at this point, the kids are probably better off anyway.

and Celebrity Fit Club also implies the same thing; fat celebrities competing and shedding blood, sweat and tears (and fat), yet all i see is a fat-fuck-waste-of-skin kevin federline (but seriously, he got really fat), among other human shells.

but hey, a celebrity's purpose is to entertain the masses. they're just entertaining us for all the wrong reasons.

quote of the day.

"insanity's expensive," she laughed and paid for her pills.
- a regular at the pharmacy.

last day of childhood.

in less than 24 hours, the death of my childhood will be in effect as my 2oth birthday dawns upon me. now on one hand, maybe i'm overreacting about all this. to me, being 20 is a wasted year - not literally, but nothing really changes. no new privileges, just the thought that your teenage years are gone and they're never coming back. i've practically lived a quarter of my life already! on a side note, this summer will mark the 5th year of me working at the good old pharmacy. in essence, i've worked there for a quarter of my entire life. fucking strange thought.

tomorrow marks my twentieth year of life on this earth. and i couldn't be happier.

if we're stuck on this ship and it's sinking
then we might as well have a parade.

88 strong.

hospitals are something i'll never get used to.
the smells. the lights. the sounds. the air is always thick.

i've been to my fair share of funerals, more than the average person my age (i would think)
i can recall 5 right off the bat, most of them ten or more years ago.

the dust has settled for now,
but there's always something lurking, waiting to kick the dirt right back in your face.
I'm just thankful...for now.

go on, film the world before it happens.

how much more can the sky piss out?
winter overstayed the season.
mother nature is getting greedy

the cops are always hungry in this place
but I can drive these streets with eyes closed,
cause the roads are watching me


this goddamn town is in on this goddamn show.

this is not an exit.

i've been digging Saves the Day at an unhealthy level lately, at an increasingly sick rate. maybe it was because i was prepping to see them Saturday, which was 2 days ago. but they're stickin' around for a while. Stay What You Are sang to me for the first time tonight. it's easily up there now. this, in turn, has been influencing my writing the past week or so and it'll damn sure continue now.

seven hundred forty four hours - snapshot like a blink of your brown stare.
tonight's snow and rain taunted me. they knew it. we knew too.
the lights are out but the whites are as bright as the snow outside.
this heart is dancing in this throat and there's nothing more to do.

to many more.

the last thing you forget.

2.12.10 - 3:41pm

Sitting on a platform bench, watching icicles return to their natural state of water. I missed the first train so this is Take Two: Somerville.

I'm off to the city, and when I say city, I'd hope it's implied that I mean New York City. I got my backpack stuffed with the essentials: music, water, some clothes, some stress relief and this "sociology" notebook along with this pen, which is now frozen and has become part of my hand.

Everyone's glancing left. Time to ride the rails.

lately.

the past two nights I've coincidentally (or maybe by fate, hah) checked my phone at the precise time of 11:11. now, i'll take that as a sign of good luck. i've been feeling great lately, but also like a stranger amongst familiar faces (figuratively speaking, of course). shits been weird, but as it's said, that's life - though i'll be fighting it.

the great [snow] storm of '10 is upon us and it's slowly suffocating us in snow . . . into our empty homes, silent rooms, and mediocre lives. but hey, for a day or two, i'm perfectly fine with that. i get to catch up on my sleep and . . . well that's it, though we're all probably better off sleeping when we're dead.

I heard today a man was pulled from the rubble in haiti after almost a [fucking] month trapped beneath collapsed homes and dead streets. amazing. he was dazed and shaken up, but all right. put that into perspective. the kind souls of the good ol' U.S of A are flying injured children into the country in order to receive proper medical care. now, this is a lovely gesture and a great thing to do, but what about the kids and individuals in our own country? our own states?? our own towns??? shouldn't we be taking care of them? shouldn't they be they ones we feed and cloth and empathize? yes, i realize i sound much like a socialist, communist punk ass kid, but isn't it true?

like in 2005 when hurricane katrina destroyed new orleans and the south. soon after that, if you can recall, there was a huge, deadly earthquake in pakistan. almost IMMEDIATELY, the USA sent goods and supplies and aid to the country, while its own people suffered terribly, waiting and pleading for help.

just some food for thought.

02.04.10

I am submerged, neck deep, in a sea of the
dead
scenes
they chase me through the vast . . .
until I'm swept away and pulled under.

three hours.

i awoke in a drenched hoodie.
a sweat ring lined the entire collar of it along with the t-shirt beneath.

my teeth hurt - like they had just been released from a tight, enduring grip or grind.
after all, they had been.

my chest was tight but slowly sinking back to normal.
my back, somewhat contorted and sore.

my vision was slightly blurred as i stumbled over to my laptop,
just like it had been warped in the dream.

maybe it was all the recent talk about drugs (and a lethal dose of vh1's celebrity rehab) which triggered my brain to fuck me and scare the dreaming shit out of me. CHRIST! i feared i had wet the bed - i checked. i didn't.

i remember in my dream saying that it had only been "3 hours" and I kept questioning how it was possible to do all the things I did in "3 hours."

"3 hours."

the part of this which freaks me out the most is that I went to bed around one and simply snapped out of a deep sleep at 4. It has only been 3 hours.


all i can say is that i just had the strangest [sounds juvenile, but it's the only word that can describe it] dream of my entire [adult] life.

the world is our ______.

"let's be colonists for halloween!"
shotty john hancock!

holy shit. howard zinn is dead.
WHO THE FUCK IS THAT??????????
are you serious.

drawing a saber tooth tiger! jumanji!



this town is dead but we're not ready to die just yet.
burning eyes light up the night like drunken fireflies in flight.
we shine bright. we'll shine bright.

drain my pen. break my pencil.

all i want to do is finish these songs. but i can't get my shit together. i've got some lyrics, scribbled phrases on torn notebook paper, sticky notes on my desktop, scattered in my mind and on paper - i just can't seem to gather all the thoughts and put them to music. at this point, i'm just frustrated and want this to work out so bad. i can do it without you. i did it before you and i can do it now. just give me some time. come to think of it, we don't even have a drummer yet, so why am i in such a rush? such a rut?

the clock struck twelve [not quite] two hours ago.

what a good night.
lots of gifts. did i forget my birthday??

i love them all.
all different, all note-worthy.
my friends.

this cross-neighborhood-smoke-sesh.
the first of the season.
so cold outside...

...good thing.

everyone is golden.

current bands and their albums dominating my headphones:


1) portugal. the man - the satanic satanist, censored colors
2) polar bear club - entire discography
3) the menzingers - a lesson in the abuse of information technology, hold on dodge!
4) saves the day - through being cool, bug sessions, stay what you are
5) nofx - cokie the clown
6) comeback kid - wake the dead
7) rx bandits - and the battle begun

two for flinching.

scenes flashing into fading images
stopped frozen in a running car at a crossroad
send me on my way

a clean conscience will cleanse the hands
my lips are sore from pacing but my thoughts clear

burning eyes light up the night
like drunken fireflies in flight

sleep it off just to reignite

so let's go nowhere.

SO the plan was to smoke a little and go cosmic bowling. we wanted to actually do something that night, rather than just sit around (which isn't a bad thing). well, you guessed it: we didn't go. while 3 of us were slowly getting drunk off cheap vodka and dark beer and conversation and singalongs, Cait, being the responsible one she always is, called the bowling alley, just to check and make sure the place existed/was still open/offered this thing known as 'cosmic bowling.' well, all were true, but there was an hour wait and by the time we got there, we'd be rushed on time. so we proceeded to drink a little more. then a little more.

we unanimously decided to go to the Applebees on route 22. at this point, Amanda and myself were in our own little world, living and breathing right there in Cait's backseat. the blurred lights along the highway reminded me that I was not too far from my own dwelling, which was nice. knowing us, we had vodka disguised in a water bottle, which was passed between the two of us several times on the way. the rest was evenly distributed in our cold beverages upon arrival.

we staggered and stumbled into the restaurant and took advantage of the half-price appetizers. good call. while accompanying John in the restroom, a young man quickly exited a bathroom stall and made his way to the sink area. he was sniffling quite a bit and flaring and carefully inspecting his nostrils in the mirror. god only knows what he was up to in there. BUT since this was the route 22 Applebees, he was probably just highway traffic, passing through on a chilly January late night, enjoying some refreshing coke. no ice.

home bound, I found myself in a painful dilemma. i begged and begged and pleaded for Cait to simply pull the car over so I could relieve myself. "no no no, we're almost back" they all [lied] to me. looking back, it probably would have been bad to urinate right there on route 22 at 1:30something. after pouring the rest of the water out the window, Amanda handed me a water bottle. i unbuckled my belt but just couldn't do it. ONE) water bottles have tiny openings (i'm not 4 anymore) and TWO) i would have pissed all over me and Cait's car. well, long story short, we found a secluded place to pull over and the deed was done. some say it was the longest piss ever.

so now I owe Cait. I owe her big time. but hell, I'd do it all again.

feast or famine.

This Is A Fire Door Never Leave Open

I don't really know where I'm going these days...and I like it. Well, I'd like to think I like it. See, I'm struggling. It comes with being content, I think, which I'm new at again. I went months and months without interaction and now...it's all so amazing and overwhelming, which is hard to admit.

"I'm trying not to wonder where you are."

I think, no I know a band is slowly being brewed beneath the surfaces of facebook and the general knowledge of all our peers and closest friends. I wish they even knew. Hell, I wish they had even the slightest clue.

what am i doing?

great couches.

so it's 2010. i don't really feel that different yet, but i know it's gonna be a good year - at least better than oh-nine. new years eve in nyc was a complete shit show; everything that i expected, which is a good thing.

amanda has inspired me to write a memoir entitled, "GREAT COUCHES," detailing random party experiences and those strange and interesting characters that often come along with them. who knows, maybe i'll start on it tomorrow.

as for now, i just need another night of shuteye and then it's back to the daily grind on monday, followed by a month of risque adventures and brand new music endeavors. shit, i'm stoked about the new year and it's only the 2nd!