so, bands on myspace have gotten smarter. sure, have a female member of your band, and have it seem like they're the ones that wanted to add the lowely guy on myspace. and while you're at it, appeal to their insecurity/vanity, whichever it may be. but at first make sure that said girl is a attractive in the broad sense.

so this is how it goes, "you are soooo cute. add us so i can comment on your pics."

nice try, but i really doubt that i'm 'sooooo' cute, i'd say possibly handsome in a very conventionally unconventional way... (think about that). so in so many words, and a blog, good effort, you definitely get a B- for creativity and inventiveness, but really, no thanks.

you ever get the feeling like you can't compare?

maybe it's not about comparisons, but just being who you are that makes it different and potentially greater, but also in a streamline of alternate aspects. the feeling of knots is unwarranted, and just a way of confusing myself. taking myself down a notch so i don't get too confident. i would hate to have an ego. the checks and balances already set up do well enough, but how they wreak their havocs some time.

you dig, you get dirty. so maybe memories aren't the best to go through. but i look at the shitty cobblestone path to here laid with my soft hands and i see so many eye sores. there's always gonna be eyes sores, i guess, just so long as you lay them better along the way.

there was this one time, when i was learning to drive, that my dad decided (b/c my mom was too nervous to ride with me and teach me how to drive) that i was ready to go through town. now this was after we purchased my first car, a chevy sprint (ironic since i work for sprint, no?) and it was a small bucket of death that would surely tumble over in medium wind. but the important point is that it was a manual, yes, stick shift, i know how to drive them. the current car i have now it the first automatic transmission i've had, and i absolutely hate it. anyway, there's a lot a first time driver has to adjust to when learning the rules of the road, such as correcting the path without over-correcting, being mindful of the other drivers and signals and lights and the such.

so at this particular point, i've done well enough, still nervous though, and me and my old man are sitting at a traffic light. now to explain something to you at first, manual's usually idle at about roughly 1000 RPMS or so (i could be wrong), anything below that could cause the car to stall (die) and be completely embarassing in traffic. my special little death cab did not idle at this area, instead, i had to rev the engine to make sure it stayed alive. not to mention how touchy the clutch was before my dad gave it once or twice through with his mechanical prowess. so i also had that working against me.

needless to say, when the light turned green, myself and my car held up the flow of traffic. but it was easily corrected, and i restarted the car and went on my way, which honestly covered the span of half a minute, if that. now during this time, as soon as i didn't move or flitch at the first pop of the green light, a mustang behind me blew it's horn. and this of course, pressed my nerves harder, since my palms were already oceans of uncertainty. my dad let out a sigh and set, "Don't worry about them, I've got it."

i started the car, the engine turns over, and all's fine. but during this time, my dad, the randomly street enraged guerilla he can be, clammers toward the back window. and i couldn't think what for. so as the engine clanks and (well, what i have no better turn for) purrs, i looke back to see what my father's doing, and the old man's showing the girl in the mustang a rigged, threatening finger. i smiled to myself (because, let's face it. that dumb bitch did deserve it), and he sinks back into his seat. pressing the shitty shocks of the car.

the mustang follows us into a parking lot, while my dad's still brewing over the whole incedent. and parks far off from us (apparently ms. mustang and me and my dad were all going to the same place). and he looks like he's gonna accompany his finger with a few words. which, is kinda scary, b/c my old man can get pretty intimidating. but he doesn't say anything, and probably for the best b/c i'm sure the bird tweeted all she really needed to know. it didn't stop him from talking about how much of a cunt she was, and how i shouldn't worry about it. (not that he really used the word cunt).

so there's a random story.
i miss the asshole sometimes when i stop to think about it, and i hate that i'm not more like him.

i've got 3OH!3 stuck in my head, but it really has nothing to do with this, or anything else. just thought i'd throw that out there.

how can i say what i'm thinking? i feel like in order to really expose myself to you, completely un-pensive and not anxious that i have to be drunk. not that there's much to tell. i'm pretty sure you get the gist of it.

you seem really hurt and hung up on the fact that you think i think you're a party girl. now let me ret-con some stuff here, do i technically think you are a boy-crazy party girl? no. do i think you go out frequently, and drink, therefore in other terms called party? yes. so, you may not be a party girl, but you do go out a lot, and drink frequently, and sometimes become a hot mess. plus, a lot of the stories we trade are, 'well, i was out with...' or 'i was really drunk and...' so i'm not totally making up something completely unfounded. but i'm not one to judge, either. i've traded those stories as well, and i've got that vibe about me that i'm easy to get in bed and probably really more fickle that i like to seem. not to mention the stories that i'm sure are floating out there to the caliber of my character. so, i guess we're in the same boat here...maybe.

so let me tell you about what i get about who you are. i don't think you're a party girl, and i feel the need to emphasize that now. i just think you like to go out and have a good time, which sometimes ends up in hangovers and things i don't wanna talk about. but it happens to everyone...well, most anyone that isn't all up in god's asshole. anyway. you can be really sweet, and unknowingly hurtful (but that last part may be me being a too sensitive), almost like a double-edged sword. you're inconceivably gorgeous, and have the prettiest eyes and smile that i've ever seen on a person. and you make me re-evaluate a lot of things that i've held to just to be trite and seem so unaffected by life in general. you say you've never had a broken heart, just like i say i don't believe in love or fate or destiny, but i'm sure there's a little more to that story. and you also say that you'll hurt me, which i can believe (not that i care at this point), but i don't think you'd hurt anybody out of malice or spite or inconsideration, however any time i bring it up, there's just this look i can't decipher. i believe you'd do it to keep that title of never having a broken heart, and understandably so. if i'd gone this long and could say the same, i'd make sure that no one ever got to me before i could cut it off at the head. but i do think, and feel, that you are this amazing person once you open the flood gates and everything comes pouring out. i've seen it piece by piece, and i'm enamored by every moment of it. and i'm really hoping one day that it all comes, good and bad alike when you're ready for it and you think i'm the guy to hear it all.

i'm not trying to figure you out and label you, i want you to know that. and i can be very contradictory and just flat out stupid and naive about things. i can't say this is new, but it's never been this difficult. it's never been this hard for me to articulate even generic words. i feel like any word that'd come out of my mouth is stupid and pointless, b/c i can't conjure up a sentence for how i feel, or the way i look at you. i can't, even though i try, and horribly fail. i just wanna be around for the good and bad, as long as you want me to be around for the good and bad, and the in-betweens. i'm trying to put myself out there, more and more. and i don't know how i'm doing.

i just get to thinking a lot lately, like i haven't thought in a long time. and not the over-thinking way that i usually do. i guess, like the broad type. life and the universe and everything else in the cracks. it's nice to feel awake again. so i don't know if i should thank you for that, or if it's just a period in my life that it's happening...but there it is, anyway.

awkward moment of the day:

i'm going to do my laundry, and the only four washers open, side by side, are toward the back. so i mosey on to the rear of the laundrymat, and pass this dueschey lookin' guy (i'm an asshole, i know). and some bitch-faced girl is sitting at the back table, looking like she's texting away on her phone. the guy that passed me is unloading a washer across from me when the girl says, "So who's this fucking bitch?"

the dude's eyes go bulging and he starts denying, "iunno, just some random girl" blah blah blah.

so then the bitchface continues to go on and on and on, something about a russian girl the guy got a lapdance from and woke up next to in the morning. and she was very unhappy to say the least. throwing out, "you're so fucking stupid." and "that's how you get AIDS, sleeping with a stripper." and just talking and talking and bitching and moaning. probably understandbly so.

anyway, the whole time this dueschebag puts on this piss poor denial about "no" this, and "iunno" that. just taking the heat. and making it the most fucking awkward time i've ever loaded my dirty underwear into the washer. the worst part was i knew she wanted to drag me into it, to make him feel like a dueschebag even more. every time he'd walk off to get change, or this or that, she was eye fucking me for an excuse to use the free, "hey, you fucked a nasty stripper, how could i do worse?" card. then the guy'd come back around and she'd just pick up where the griping left off.

now, this is the best part. this guy is just taking everything, denying but not fighting hard at all. even being degrading in front of another dude. but i guess he gets his fill, and deturs her spectacularly by saying, "You're right, those shoes look really nice."

now, the unstoppable freight train of jealous spite filled venom screeches to a dead silence hault, and she replies, "Thank you," all bubbly of course, "I told you they were cute when I bought 'em earlier today."

and like this neanderthal was some fucking magic weilding god of mischeif and fucking thought trains. she started gabbing about shopping all day the day before, and how much fun it was.

i wanted to stand slack-jawed, wide-eyed, but i didn't. i just kept loading my laundry, and ignoring them. until they eventually left. thankfully, right after i started the washers.

so yeah, bitches, man, bitches. i just really don't understand how people can really be that inconsiderate, on both ends, you know, pursuing a fight in public in front of a complete stranger, and whatever that asshole was up to to put him in that situation. but most of all, i could see why he did it, b/c he got away with it with such little effort. but that does just make me think, what's the point? why stay with someone if you're gonna go somewhere else for what you already have. i've never understood the point in infidelity, sober or otherwise. i'm 24 years old and never once have i cheated on anyone i've dated or had feelings for, etc. it's really just as simple as, 'hey, i'm not into you anymore, so rather than do something completely devastating and fuck some other girl in the passenger seat that you're sitting in when you thought i was hanging out with my friends, i'll just go ahead and tell you, i don't think i'm in this anymore.' sure it'll hurt like hell, and probably be harder to get over without the anger, but guess what. that's what honest people do, and honest people are awesome in my book.

i dunno, i guess i'm just old fashioned at heart, i believe in chivalry (which apparently is dead), and just trying to be a gentleman and considerate of, at least, that one person's feelings. but i'm also the guy that starts to like someone, and shuts off the attraction to anyone else. i mean, sure, i hold up the 'oh, she's hot.' when i'm out with my friends, but i doubt they'd wanna hear, 'eh, i know someone hotter, and she likes me already.' maybe i'm just weird. i mean, i do feel out've place because one night stands make me sick to my stomach, so i have to convince myself that i really like the person...really. i mean, i don't give a shit what other people do, it's just me. like i've got some odd 1950's moral compass poorly ticking in my brain, and i try to make up with it by overacting like some calloused promiscuous asshole. why do humans have to be so god damned complicated? and this isn't even getting on the outside, although, jesus - if i did, the rants i could go on with...for hours and hours. it'd feel good though, like i was thinking like a philosopher. haven't done that it a while. but yeah, anyway, inside me, i'm complicated although i try to dumb it down as much, saying really stupid shit all the time, cutting myself off before i get on a tangent that could potentially maybe make me seem insightful.

i guess i'm just realizing how much i distance myself from everybody and don't even think about it, so it's like it isn't happening. they do get those windows, but it sucks to wake up in the morning and realize that no one really knows you, not for their lack of trying, but they're still in the dark. it comes with the experience it seems. the longer i live, the more i shut people out. and i think it's an unconscious reaction to being hurt so much, so frequently.

wow, i just realized that this is a fuckload of writing, and on a blog, god. and not only that, i turned a mildly funny story into emo time. nice. well, how about let's go have a wonderful day...laundry's just about done. think i'll get some ice cream and take the rest of the day off from thinking.

let's cross the ocean and get some culture

this feeling

so pensive

so hopeful

is shaking me

or I'm shaking in it

I get lost in those eyes

I get lost on those hands

I get lost in that smile

and it's all worth it

the stupid words floating in my head

jumbling and garbling and making me think

I don't need to think

the swelling in my chest

like gusts of strong wind

that would take a small child of its feet

and I am off my feet

I'm scared

I'm happy

I'm scared

I'm happy

I'm frightened

I'm terrified of you

but I'll manage

just so I can look in those green eyes

give me something to take the edge off

maybe another hit on the lips

I haven't been awake in a long time

and I've never been any place like this

what do you do when you wake up and you're not exactly how you were before?

guess my armors just falling off, and it makes for bad rants where i try to be both sides. put up the strong and the hopeful and end up sound like a mess of fevered words.

eventually, i'll get it right, i guess.

i'm done putting up a wall that just falls down piece by piece. you've got me at that. i'm still scared as hell, but i'm done being paranoid.

time to write some inspiring poetry and see if it pays off...literally.