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!