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.