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| 12:11pm 23/07/2008 |
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Soooo, there was some confusion about which day I am playing the Block Party in Seattle. That confusion has been cleared up. I am playing this Saturday July 26th from 4:30-5:30 on the mainstage.
Mr. Angelo Spencer is playing the same day from 2-2:30 on the Cobra Stage.
Sorry about the mix up. |
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Read 7 - Post |
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| Illustrator! |
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| 06:26pm 20/07/2008 |
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Due tomorrow for my basic design class. We were supposed to design a tshirt graphic. |
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Read 21 - Post |
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| And when the rain began to pound, I lifted up my face until I was soaked with the ache of the skies |
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| 11:31am 19/07/2008 |
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mood:  colorful music: from under Argentina skies
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I am currently drinking a quart of salt water. For shits and giggles. Literally. How my family talked me into this, I forget now. I'm beginning the Master Cleanse today, with my mother, and ideally my sister as well, if she remembers. Meaning that for the next ten days, I drink a quart of salt water first thing in the morning, to my bowels discontent, and then drink nothing but an organic spicy lemonade sweetened with maple syrup, all day. I mean, I'm allowed just over a gallon of the stuff a day, so I think I'll be satiated, but dang. Food is an addiction for me. Not eating is going to be a pain. Will keep updating, in not too much detail.
On an entirely different note, if I ever get back onto a Greyhound bus, either I'm going to be gagged and bound, and likely chopped into parts, in a suitcase, or whoever I'm going to go and see will be pretty much the most important person in the world. But I did have the opportunity to converse with a Native Texan, about all things important to him: Mud trucking and racing, his three-year-old daughter who's already a Dom, all things unpleasant about his ex-girlfriend, all the various piercings on his body, and how much he enjoys them... I also got approached by Native Texan's friend, who was very quiet and merely told me that, while he didn't know me at all, he thought I had an excellent personality, and that I was doing the world right, and I should keep on doing what I was doing. It was encouraging. I think he was just impressed with my patience with afore-mentioned Texan.
I spent the past week in North Carolina, and I miss those mountains. Surrounded constantly by music and musicians, and dancers. Oh god, dancers. I've made a point already, back in Bloomington, to surround myself with more of the sort. Music is my life...
And that said, I'm /FAIL at harmonies. If anyone knows how to harmonize, and can give me some pointers, I would be grateful. |
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Read 8 - Post |
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| no subject |
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| 11:08am 19/07/2008 |
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Every day the helicopters seem to get closer and closer. Today there were two that flew right over our house. They were so close I could have throw my hatchet at them and dinged the paint job.... and then been stripped and detained and raped and beaten as would be the natural progression of things. I ran after them, pretending that Hugo and I scared them off. Maybe Hugo and I are on some national alert list now, teeth bared and hatchet to the sky.
Birds have built a nest on our house. The babies are THE CUTEST GODDAMN THING I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE. They look like...... scared cotton balls. I wish I could feed them eggplant and tell them stories. I saw the momma fly out of the nest today, pooping along the way. I felt a pang of envy in my bowels.
I wonder what the chances are of applesauce sales funding terrorism.
Tomorrow there is a family gathering in Paragon. My mom and Andrew and I are going to ride our bikes there. I don't know about them, but I'm going to pretend we are a bicycle gang. I CAN'T WAIT. But before tomorrow happens today.. and today I am hatcheting my way through time. Or I was until the helicopters flew by. After that I felt like I had to come inside and.... cleanse myself. Leave my brain barf on Live Journal.
To recap:
............ Bad.
................ GOOD! |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| no subject |
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| 09:23pm 16/07/2008 |
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I keep getting into these troughs where I become super doubtful about everything in my relationship. I worry that I don't love M enough, I worry that he loves me more than I love him. I worry when I want a girl, I worry that I don't keep him happy. I'm so scared of letting him down.
I want to hurt myself. Because I don't feel like I can tell him this stuff.
I'm so scared of hurting him. I get so scared because when I'm within a trough, it feels completely like reality. Completely like reality. I freak out and write about it, or talk about it, trying trying trying to make it go away. I'm so worried that the troughs are real, that the happy periods are illusions, or always fleeting.
I'm worried that if I tell him, I could never unhurt him. That he would always feel less loved, less assured in us, less wanted.
I love him. Even now, imagining myself trying to tell him, I see my thoughts abating, saying "I love him, I love him". And then immediately I remind myself that maybe I'm just comforting, that I could never not want to comfort him. And then it hisses back in that comfort isn't love.
The last bad time was a couple weeks ago. They seems to be precipitated by these overwhelming fits of indecision and defeatism. I worry that now that I've got a wonderful man in my life, a stable relationship, and that I still can't be happy? For the first 8 months, at least, of us being together, I was so intimidated by him--this whip smart, gorgeous, experienced man--so convinced he couldn't possibly love me, so sure he would hurt me. And I learned about him honestly, not this image I had built up. And he did the same with me. Cards face up. And I loved him more than ever, so much more than when I had desperately confessed it 2 1/2 months into being together.
And so I try to remind myself that I am just bored with summer, bored being out of school, bored at work, not bored in my relationship. I try to remind myself that love and infatuation are different things. (Sometimes this helps, sometimes it just spins me in deeper, making me worry what if I don't really love M at all but was just infatuated.) Then I try to remind myself that I am still attracted to him, that I enjoy his company, that I care for him, want to make him happy. And I try try try to make myself believe that the troughs aren't the truth. |
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| 05:01pm 14/07/2008 |
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I got my septum pierced.
It felt like a pinch. |
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Read 21 - Post |
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| 07:57am 13/07/2008 |
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"I've always been fond of animals, both domestic and wild, and my fondness of them has only increased with time. Compared to my own species, they have much to admire. They are seldom vain, live within their means and they seem at home on the earth and enviably content with their lot. Though often competitive within their own ranks, one species of animal is rarely given to conquest and dominance over another. Nor do animals burden themselves with future fears or excessive anxieties about tomorrow. As far as I can tell, unlike most of my own kind, no individual or species or animal presumes to place itself above and beyond the rest of creation. That we have gained preeminence over them seems to me unfortunate."
It's a Long Road to a Tomato, by (Farmer) Keith Stewart.
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| A satirical poem © June 16, 2008 by G. Edward Griffin |
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| 07:53am 11/07/2008 |
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"I woke up Sunday morning (Father's Day) with a silly limerick running through my head. It was a satirical comment on how Boobus Amricanus is so willing to give up liberty in return for the false hope of security against terrorism. I couldn't get it out of my head so, after dinner, I began to play with the words and eventually produced the first draft. Because satire often communicates an idea more forcefully than dull documentation with logical argument, I am publishing it to see if it has any such utility. I hope you will find it useful with your friends who don't yet get it."
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