Life

Baby monitor, trash on desk, and Sonny Rollins.

Life is a funny thing. Just kidding, life sucks. Life will smack you, tempt you, smite you, and in the end, when its had its laughs, it will leave you to die. The trick to life is to fight (first rule of life - don't talk about life). Just when you think your down and out, no one is your anything, those are the moments that define you. Nothing happens for a reason - what you do is the solution, the cure, the answer. If someone went throughout life with everything perfect, that would be a boring life. Life is the pursuit of happiness, the pursuit of all things good, the pursuit of love and light and joy. Just when you think you have it the worst, someone has is worser. And whatever you do, don't give up. Keep fighting till your last breathing moment, and never let life take that away from you. Ponder, life.

Part Of A Song:

As I gaze lazily 

at my sounding alarm

Its you I think about

I hope you are charmed

Because your my dove

from up above

What is this love

That I can't explain 

Open Sesame, Bitch.

Three tablespoons angst, one teaspoon of love, and two cups of sadness.

I don't know what it is, but I'm in it. Its hard to explain, but I don't want to explain it to anyone. Ponder, 2 time four divided by dos.

Maybe tonight.

Those People

An iPod Touch, angry in loco parentis (wherever that is), and fishnets?

I am afraid my family is turning into THOSE kind of people. The kind that walk around in work- out clothes, preaching God's good works to people in simple evangelical song, and most digustingly, stock their fridges with diet sodas, the scourge of a nation. I believe that diet sodas are the crutch of modern society, like how the Roman Empire crumbled on account of people going to the baths all the time. Ponder, the amount of diet soda some white people can drink.

Things on Cameron's song notepad:

the bread is drowning in the wine

let my numbness fade away

dancing in the sweet sunshine

Drip drip drip drip (in triplets)

The rain keeps falling

from the sky black as tar

Dark as my heart

Rain stop falling (?)

Mud on my soul

my heart black as coal

your love i love missing

smokes my pure heart

If the heart is a muscle,

then Im sore for you.

Good night you all.

Yoda and the Funk

A little guitar, an empty pen, and some big headphones (bigger than the guitar, and fuller than the pen).

I saw this Yoda quote today. I will write it down:

Try not.

Do, or do not.

There is no try.

- Yoda

As I recall, he then picked up a grain silo with his force and lifted it at Count Dooku. 

Ponder, Coyote chases Roadrunner.

Angst Interlude Sonnet:

I threw this chair

at a golden seal

"You dare?" he

said before the lobster meal.

I gobbled my lobster, 

with the anger in my eyes

"Hey there" he said

"Let us move to the pies"

He ignored me,

like most sea creature do

(except crustaceans, 

they don't have a clue)

And thats why we had lobster.

Ponder, Agagah.

Another one died. My friend from so many summers past, the last person who I thought would die. Yet, life is so fragile and so sudden. Thats one thing I have learned. Life is bulls raging through a china shop, each piece of porcelain a delicate life, so easy and fragile to be lost.

Ponder, infinitely. 

Goot noch

Stories from the Block

Three Goodwill finds, 50 Cd's, and two speakers.

The following stories are fictional.

Alex was literally sweating. His hands were wreathing, his heart pounding, his eyes darting, to and fro from the clock to the door. Every so often he would take a glance at his watch, or look to the receptionist. She would throw back a lazy glare, as if to say "Relax, hon." But he couldn't relax. Today was the day - he couldn't wait. Alex had been training for years, waiting, wishing, training for this moment. Not a second had gone by that he didn't think about this day, this pivotal, precious day. As the kids ran by, Alex couldn't help but notice the smudges they left on the ground. His hand felt under his chair, and, just as he had thought, there was gum there. And fresh, from the texture. Alex's nose strained to smell even the faintest glimmer of Pinesol - nothing. He could wipe the dust from the window, the grime from the sinks and the dirt from the tile below. Alex could make some changes, here, and in his heart of hearts, he knew he could be doing some bigger, like a stadium or a hospital. Only time would tell.

The receptionist waved Alex from his stupor. "Ready hon?" she squealed.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he muttered, and he walked through the door and sat at the chair in front of the principal's desk.

"Hello there... Alex," said the principal, "I see you want to become a janitor here."

The END!!

Good Night.

Pillow Slams, part 1.

New Yorker Cartoons, an acoustic guitar and a piano award.

Graced by glorious down and soft to the touch
thou art what I sleep with, for thee I owe much
To fertilize my dreams
On which my head leans,
My pillow.

Soft and luscious,
flight and flaky
go dreams,
and do take me
far away,
where heaven lies,
a place of ice cream
and butterflies
I ride upon,
thy golden mount
From the beginning
of the sheeps I count,
to the end
The alarm I flount.
My Pillow.

Oh my majesty,
where doth thine magic lie?
In thy bindings,
or the feathers that used to fly?
I will ponder
in that hazy mindscape
It will be much fonder
If I wake up late.
My pillow.

O! Alarm, do go away.
Day by day and play by play,
Thou entice me into bed,
onto which I smash my head
into thine sweet embrace
I must confess - I like the lacey-lace.
My sexy pillow.

I doth bid thee a good night. Sleep tight, no bed bugs bite, no fright, no Visa checking account plight.
Good Night.