am i at a loss and gaining,
or gaining from gained?
one step forward,
or a jump to the left?
motive takes stage and i wonder often, "why?"
discontent, even in my contentedness.

i am so full of questions about living and seeing,
and hearing and dancing,
and falling and bleeding.
i understand i need nothing,
yet still strive for more.
polymath desires in a world fighting sores,
from the boredom of focus we've come to pursue,
careers often no more then living lost time.
so, i take my questions merrily as something to do,
'cause i'd rather be mournful of thinking than never wonder, "why..."

"you have a good mind."

why do people tell me these things?
professors pull me aside to tell me things like this.
they all want me to change my major so that they could deal with me more.
classes stop to acknowledge me.
even classmates tell me they hope to take classes with me next semester.
i was second pick in a class of some very talented people.
why?
what do these people see?
i'm only an average student at best,
and yet people act like i'm something special.
i don't feel special,
i feel like i'm full of shit,
and i feel bad because these people buy it.
i understand concepts and i have basic communication skills.
half the time i don't even do my work.
i haven't really read a book since the second grade!
why am i special?
at what point did i become a scholar?
i'm on the dean's list for fuck's sake!
is the system really that flawed that someone as full of shit as i am can become a respected scholar?
why am i special?!
do i really understand that much more about things than people?
i don't think so.
i don't think i understand any more or less than anybody.
is it the thought process people are after?
do i really think that differently from most people?
am i just like a program?
an application that redirects it's users to all of the difficult to reach places of their minds?
is that my place?
how unfulfilling to be a go-fer.
so this is what life's like for a search engine...

i read a great interview with brandon boyd.
they asked all the most important questions that i would ask,
and received many of the answers i expected.
the verdict:
school is my form of procrastination.
school is how i get away from what i really want to do.
am i gonna stop?
probably not,
i have too much invested at this point.
it makes sense that in my head i group college with my car payments and all of the things that i need to just get through before i can do what i want.
it is commonly thought that the modern artist needs to sacrifice before he can really have the sense of self that it takes to make honest art.
maybe i have to make this sacrifice?
i know that sounds condescending,
as my sacrifice is hardly the sort of suffering that many have to go through in their lives,
but college is a load,
and it is a sacrifice for someone who isn't their for all the right reasons.
i don't know,
i'm just trying to justify what i'm doing,
just like anybody else.
life continues regardless,
i just wish i could see where this is going...

anyways, happy december!
listen to the pixies.
then listen to the matches.
then listen to a whole bunch of christmas songs.
if you end up at the flaming lips by the end of the day,
congratulations, you've just had a breakthrough!
it might not make sense now,
but it will.
i'd say trust me, but you probably shouldn't.
just listen and digest.

"so to hell with holiday romantics,
december is for cynics, december is for critics.
let's get by on nyquil and hibernate,
december is for cynics.
damn, it's too easy being great..."

i'm experiencing some of the benefits of being my own client in my w.f.a. class at school.
i've been getting outside of my music,
and subsequently, outside of myself,
looking in, trying to figure out what the hell is going on,
what i'm actually doing,
why i'm actually doing it.

when every kid is little,
they are presented with the question:
what do you want to be when you grow up?
i've always loved thinking about this question and the idea behind it because i think i had such an excellent response;
i wanted to be a garbageman and own my own junkyard.
i drew a picture and everything.
why be a garbageman?
so i could use all of the trash to make sweet things, of course,
and so i could ride on the back of the truck because that just looks fun.
this was my untarnished 5 year old reasoning,
and i absolutely love it.

why do i bring this up?
because at some point while looking back at myself and my music,
i remembered this and it all just made sense.
i love bringing out the beauty in the "ugliest" of things.
it ties in perfectly with my attraction to manic behavior and distorted art.
it helps me to explain why i love writing the poppiest songs with the ugliest chords,
and why i love to yell over happy music.

in essence,
i guess i've become the garbageman of my childhood aspirations,
minus the sweet truck and the implied smell.
i take nasty chords and make music out of them.
i use colloquial terminology to describe complex ideas.
my friends are all conflicted, and i love them that way.

i was, am, and always will be the garbageman.
i like that...

school is pretty easy for me once i force myself to do it.
i've never thought of myself as that kind of smart.
i think i was always trying to be smarter than that,
i don't know.

stupid on purpose is the new smart.
i'm smart,
but i like acting stupid.
smart people that like to show off their intelligence tick me off.
i try to share what i know without being too smart about it.
i still tick myself off sometimes.

you can take a person out of the shit,
but you can't take the shit out of the person,
unless you have that colon cleaning procedure done,
which i hear actually makes you feel great;
but that's a little bit more literal than i was shooting for.

"i don't know where this is going,
but it's probably the same place that we started."

"'cause the boys in the hood are always hard.
come talkin' that trash and we'll pull your card.
knowin' nothin' in life but to stay legit;
don't quote me boy i ain't said shit..."

i'm so focused on destruction right now.
my heart doesn't feel good and i don't know why.
all i wanna do is break and yell,
hoarse, angry yells over stuttered fragments of distorted simplicity.
i want to yell all the anger out of me.
i don't want it here.
i don't know why it's appearing in me,
again.

this is emotion over logic.
this is reckless abandon.
i will start a fight and let someone else finish it.
i want scars.
i want people to see the spirit of anarchy in my tattered features.
i once said that there was a person i wanted to be,
and that i'd be taking steps to make him me.
maybe now is the time for another bone-shattering leap down the staircase...

sometimes i like to think of my life as a novel,
and i like to think of different parts of my life as chapters.
maybe that's why i like blogging like this,
it's kinda a good way keep track of the chapters.

obviously, i'm the main character of my novel,
however, i'd be interested to see where each of my "supporting characters" were ranked,
how important is anyone to my story?

i'd imagine my whole life wouldn't be in the novel,
more like the most important events of my life that build me up to some ultimate conclusion or lesson of life.
who has been with me for all of the most important stuff?
how the hell do i know what the important stuff even is?
i know a lot of people,
but i have no clue how many of them are really important to my ultimate conclusion.

today was my last day at the 99,
i probably won't see any of those people ever again.
that's a little bit weird.
i can just pack up and move like that without regret,
i've done it before, and i'll do it again.
how is anybody really important?

when i got home my family was watching a movie called "the nines."
it was kinda out there,
but for some reason i really connected with it tonight.
what if the novel was real?
what if i'm writing it down as we speak.

"i could break the world down with a single thought..."

"i see kids run by, i watch them grow,
they'll learn much more than i'll ever know,
and i think to myself, 'what a wonderful world.'"

technology is self-destructive.
why do people keep improving and adding things?
complicating our world?
it seems to me like all anyone wants to do is get back to simpler times,
and yet here we are,
styles and trends changing faster than ever before,
technology growing at such a rapid pace that things are outmoded before they hit the market,
theories and ideas second guessed before they can reach fruition.
it's so easy to get lost in the details.
we live in a world of details.

choices are being made by where the light is shining,
forgive me for trying to figure out the shadows...

let's talk about digestion.
in every sense of the word,
i have always felt like i just don't do it right,
like there is something about my body and my mind that takes things in and sorts through it in a fashion that just isn't right.
this has lead to me growing, developing, perceiving and understanding differently than most people, if not all people.

i don't know what a "settled stomach" is,
i don't think i've ever had one,
different degrees of unsettled perhaps.
i don't know.

i wonder about things like whether i wipe my ass correctly,
or my poop looks normal.
i don't worry about it,
but i definitely wonder.
these are just simple things.
gross to many,
but i'd just say it's something to talk about.

who thinks about this kinda stuff?
this is me digesting...

it's 1:30 am and i just finished writing a paper due by midnight.
i left a note with it.
my professor is a reasonable guy and i think it's a pretty ballin' essay,
so i don't anticipate there being a problem with it.

if he's upset about it,
i'll just explain that i was totally stressed out and needed to go to a show instead of staying and writing and delivering my paper on time.
he may not understand, but honestly,
had i not gone to this show,
i would not have been able to write the essay that i did.
i would have sat in front of my computer for twice as long as i just did,
and the result would be a shitty, unmotivated paper that would not be worth much more than a 1.0 for the five hours of my life that i wasted doing it.
i'm happy with the paper i turned in,
and that's good enough for me.
brotha-man will deal.

on another note,
i got my ass kicked at the show.
i still had my wounds from when i took that digger long boarding the other day,
then i go to this show and decide to be one of the "pit characters,"
so it isn't hard to understand why they opened back up and why i'll be real sore for the next few days.

on to the subject of "pit characters" because that sounds like something that might be entertaining to discuss.
when i use the term "pit character" (which is totally something i just made up now, but looks pretty official in quotations so i think i might use it more often),
i mean a person who goes to a show and finds a home in the general mosh or circle pit area long enough to develop an identifiable persona amongst the whole of the audience.
for example, tonight at the show,
there was an outstandingly loud, drunk dude who made his presence known early.
he was wearing a black beater and a red handkerchief tied around his dark hair that helped to make him standout.
i dubbed him Ralph Macchio for the evening.
he made his presence known to all through his behavior and outfit,
therefore he's a "pit character,"
an outstanding personality at a rock show who makes their presence known in the pit,
which is pretty much center stage.
these people subject themselves to the judgements of the crowd,
gaining either approval and friendship or ridicule and the possibility of becoming a target for people to hate on in the pit.

tonight, i was one of those.
i had fun and made some friends,
but i also got my ass kicked.
that's life,
you take the good with the bad.

damn, i love taking stupid concepts and making them important by tagging "that's life" to the end of them.
ha ha, but then again,
that's life...

i'm sore.
i'm exhausted.
i have to rewrite an essay due today,
making sure to avoid my consistent use of colloquial grammar and the passive voice because they are inappropriate in an academic essay.

i am colloquial grammar.
i am the passive voice.
i come to college, learn, and then tell everyone what i've learned colloquially, in easy terms with an emphasise on action, and you know what:
they get it...

i have a plan.
never in my life have i really had a plan,
but i kinda do now.

my plan is to keep working my way through school,
so that when i graduate, i have no kind of debt looming over me.
also, my car will be paid off by then too.
i will be at zero.

the next step is to leave for a while.
the second that i am at zero,
i think i'm just gonna take off for a while,
maybe with purpose, maybe without,
either way i want to escape without direction for a while.

my only real goal for my life is some kind of cross country or east coast tour with my music.
i'm past the point of needing to be a superstar,
i just want to take my music around just to say i have.
it's about the music, not the fame.

beyond that, i have no real goals or career aspirations.
the way i see it,
as long as i'm alive i'm gonna be doing something,
so what does it matter what career i take up.
in the bigger picture, a career is just a small portion of a life anyways.
i'm not so concerned with that.

plans do have a funny way of changing though.
there isn't a whole lot that would change my current plans,
but i can think of a few things.
mostly family and friend stuff, they come first.

then there's that whole relationship aspect of things and the plans could change for one person.
i was once told to forget, and i have mostly.
but every now and then, i remember and i miss her.
when i forgot, i forgot not just her,
but the whole desire.
it dawned on me the other day that i haven't been with anyone for anything in a long time,
not even a stupid date or even gotten a number.
i just don't have the motivation.
sometimes it's because i'm scared, i know.
but usually i'd just rather make a friend.

i'm not a ladies man,
i don't think i'd really like meaningless sex.
i had a love,
and as much as i try to forget or right songs about how i'm over her,
the truth is that i'm not.
i have a "one who got away,"
and i'm not over her,
and i can't forget.
but i'll respect her till the day i die,
and if she doesn't want me to be a part of her life,
then i won't be.

i've done some stupid things to her,
and some even stupider things in her absence,
but i think i'm changing for the better now.
i'm not asking for a second chance,
but should she ever need me for anything,
i hope she can remember that i'll always be willing,
and i'm not hard to find...

it's amazing how much can happen in just two weeks.
i've been doing a lot of thinking about time lately and how much i really have.
life is long, man, it really is.
i cannot begin to understand how it's gonna feel to be old.
what am i gonna do in the time it takes me to get old?
it just seems like getting old is gonna be so boring.
life is kinda boring, or at least it can be.
i feel like there's a million things i could do,
but i don't really want to do anything.
or maybe i want to do everything but i'm just too overwhelmed?

family?
i might have a family some day?
that's just too fucked up.
i can hardly take care of myself and i'm supposed to have a family?
my mom was younger than me when she started having kids.
what the fuck?!
why would anyone do that?

were me, lexi, and andrew really mom and dad's choice?
did they really feel like they were ready?
i couldn't imagine having kids,
making a choice of that magnitude.
what if you have kids only to find out that you're a terrible parent?
you can't just stop being a parent.

i'm a choice.
i'm a choice made by my parents that changed their lives forever.
i couldn't make that choice,
not right now.

you know, i could die right now.
then what?
would that make me a bad choice?

i have been lost in my head the past few days.
people are moving, people are dying, and here i am screwing around.
working full time to pay for an education that i probably don't need.
but what would i do if i wasn't doing this?
nothing?
just lounge around all the time?
that's not much of a life.

i'll find something.
i stress and i question,
but i know that ultimately i'll just get through it.

i hope he didn't overdose because if he did,
then that means it could have been suicide and that's just too much for me to handle.
the thought that someone i know could commit suicide scares me.
it's weird to think that someone i see daily could just decide to quit and then they'd be dead.
hell, everyone i know could die all at once for no reason at all, then what?
what's a person to do when people start dying?

i'm frightened.
i'm frightened of the future.
what the hell am i supposed to do?
r.i.p. pat, hopefully you're in a place where there is no stress and things aren't so complicated as here...

take it as you will.
tell me what you think.
i'll pretend i don't care,
then i'll change it up to spite you.

this is how i feel.
nothing but reaffirmed,
time and time again.

i was never a musician anyways,
i think i was always an artist...

"help me, help me, won't you.
sing me, sing me, one last song..."

i'm an action person.
i like to be doing things,
either physically or otherwise.
i like it when i'm able to turn a day into a challenge or an adventure.

i'm gonna try to start recording more.
anything and everything,
even if it amounts to nothing.
it'll give a project,
something to do.

i need to start working out again too.
when i was on vacation,
all of the kayaking and snorkeling and surfing i did really got me amped about life.
i love things like those because they get me moving and they're way more fun than working out.
i miss playing sports.
i used to and still love that kind of stuff.
i got to keep moving,
it's the only way to live...

subliminal messages are fucked up.
all the slight things that different ad companies do to help their product appeal to either more people or just a certain group of people.
it's weird, man.
it's weird observing life after the communications classes i've had.
i learned all this crazy shit about communication through different mediums and why people respond the way they do,
and now i can't help but notice all the crazy different ways ideas are communicated to the public,
to send a message about their product subliminally.
different colors, different fonts, different techniques,
all with the aim to catch the eye of the right customer at the right time.
that's all i see now,
the subliminal messaging in everything.
it sucks.
i almost feel like i know too much sometimes...

tonight is one of the few times where i have something to say,
but i'd rather not say it on here.
plans really.
i always try not to plan whenever possible because i think life is more exciting that way,
but i think i could have some big plans in the near future and i don't need anybody to know just yet.
maybe not.
this could just be one of those ideas that ends up amounting to squat,
but i've been thinking about it for a little while now and haven't lost interest,
so what's to say i won't actually follow through with my ideas for once?

it's weird to think about the crucial choices we make,
you know, the ones that really affect a considerable portion of your life and the lives of others.
it's weird to think that it comes down to a simple choice on things,
like life is just a drive-thru with a huge fucking display of choices and we just choose.
it's really makes a lot of sense too because we can't choose whats on the menu,
but we do get to choose what we'll have to eat;
that's life.

i don't know,
just another one of my goofy metaphors.
it doesn't really mean anything.
i'm going to bed.

"it's all fun and games until somebody sticks somebody else in the eye with a hot poker..."

i'm a third eye shy of a divine high five;
i'm blind.
i want to see now, please.
pleased in pleasing every deity,
though i won't fall back in line,
that's not what was meant;
freedom, liberty, a life well spent,
where spending time transcends the clock,
where a clock is nothing more than a meager tick or a tock.
i don't want to think i know,
i want to know,
or better yet, i want to grow.

i wonder if it all makes sense in the last moment before we die...

dude, i think i'm a buddhist.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noble_Eightfold_Path

read it and learn.
take your time because that's the point.

i just wrote a whole bunch of really deep stuff,
but it all got trashed by the unwanted pushing of the wrong button by me,
but i'm over it.

i've discovered that i'm not looking for answers,
just a good idea,
which i'm beginning to find.
i have lived a great life.
i am proud to be me tonight.
i feel good.

"there are no coincidences."

love others,
learn,
love yourself,
understand,
love life,
now you're living...

i'm a tough guy, i think.
not a tough-guy,
but definitely durable,
able to fight through pains and things that some people can't handle.
i think that makes me kinda tough.
i just choose not to let things bother me.
i don't ever really give up because i physically can't stand something.
sometimes my mind turns on me,
but my body never stops.

i'm a hard worker.
my parents are too blue collar for me not to be.
they're gonna be working tough jobs till they're old,
and i will too, unless i find a way out.

that's one of the driving forces in music today;
the drive to avoid the monotonous life of the working class,
the drive to get out of the small time, bullshit neighborhoods that threaten to suck away the best years of our lives.

adventure on the mind tonight,
everybody wants to get out like there is somewhere great to get out to.
well, i've seen a few places in my life,
and they all look the same to me.
sure, every town has different character,
but none of them are really that much better than the other,
not even new york or boston.
the best thing i can think to do is leave often,
but always keep your home close in mind.

i am burnt raw and entirely uncomfortable,
but for the moment,
i am content...

awake and in dreamland,
i have little concept of days anymore.
i mean, i usually know what day it is,
and even what time it is,
but as far as where the days go,
i have no clue.
i just punched through a month like it was just a day or two.

it's weird to think that in just a few years,
this is how things will always be.
i'm just now coming to the realization that soon there will come a time without school or summer vacations,
soon there will be just work and life as the years go by.
it's kinda scary to think about,
removing such a dominant facet of one's life in just one fell swoop,
forever changing one's perception of time and how to spend it.

in the years to come,
i anticipate both a new sense of freedom and a new sense of restriction.
responsibility is such a drag...

i feel unusually responsible right now,
after getting home from work and proceeding to clean dishes without being told or asked and then turning off all of the lights and such.
i suppose it's nothing special,
but it'd make my mom proud.
maybe she'll notice and say something,
maybe she won't,
either way,
i know she feels proud when i do things like that.

i just got showed who was boss by some mosquito.
she bit me in like 12 different places before i got her.
now i'm all itchy and swelling.
damn allergies.

it's 1:28 in the morning.
i know i need to get to bed,
but i felt like writing something,
so here i am.

i'm coming up with this crazy story in my head;
a little bit fantasy, a little bit science fiction.
i don't know what i'm gonna do with it,
maybe a book, maybe a comic, maybe a movie script,
who knows?
maybe i won't end up doing anything with it,
and it'll become just another lost idea,
or maybe it'll be just what i need to get noticed,
and will blast me into super-stardom?
that's the beauty of an idea, i guess,
you can never really tell what will come of it.
everybody on the planet has millions of ideas a day.
most of them get lost,
but some of them become great.
there's no telling how or why,
no blueprint for a great idea,
they aren't at all planned,
they just happen sometimes,
and when they come about through the right person at the right time,
that's when great things happen.
it's rare,
rare for everything to line up just right,
but when they do,
life just makes sense.

i have millions of ideas floating around in my head.
a few of them could be great,
most of them are probably garbage.
we'll have to see what ends up coming out on top.
only time will tell how great any of my ideas really are,
only time will tell my worth.

"that's life, as all the people say,
you're riding high in april, shot down in may,
but i know that i can change that tune,
when i'm back on top, back on top in june..."

i'm beginning to find fault in my musical aspirations.

it almost seems like when i first started getting into music,
it was an art,
it was a special talent that set one apart from the average.
rock stars weren't normal people,
they were more like demi-gods,
with a divine presence that no normal mortal could possess;
i wanted that then and still do now.
some people turn to religion for purpose,
but i chose to turn to music instead.
i wanted to play my music and and find peace in myself,
i wanted to play my music and understand the world,
i wanted to play my music and know that the universe is right.

i'm just now coming to realize that maybe i was wrong,
maybe my answers can't be found in music,
especially in a day and age when musicians are more common than doctors or lawyers.
music has become a valid, everyday profession,
and by no means does it make you special;
it has lost it's mystique.
don't get me wrong,
i still love music and plan to keep on playing,
but sometimes i just feel so cheap when i play,
like i'm just another normal person trying to make an easy living,
like i'm too pathetic to do anything revolutionary,
too full of shit to really make a difference.

i guess what i'm saying is that i don't know what i'm doing here anymore.
and the trials continue...

i am incapable of not talking about myself or something having to do with me.
i came to that realization today as the idea was presented multiple times through many different mediums.
it should also be pointed out that this isn't such a terrible thing,
in fact it's quite normal.
many of history's greatest thinkers were dumbfounded by some of the simplest concepts until they were able to experience it first hand or apply it in a way that made them give a shit.
maybe i'm searching for reasons to give a shit?

i always try to put myself on another level.
i want my opinion to be important so i put it up on a pedestal and structure everything i say around my chosen set of ideas for the time being;
kinda like my brain's top 40.
i push these ideas like their gospel because i want them to be,
when in all honesty they're just another song of the week.

sometimes i think i'm pretty gullible, naive, and easily swayed,
but those thoughts are always followed by the concept that maybe i just don't know what i want yet.
that idea, for some reason, seems more reasonable to me;
i can accept that.
i don't want to be gullible, naive, or easily swayed.

musically,
i've tried to start putting a little more story in my songs.
i just realized, however, that there is more story in my songs than i've been aware of.
the story is mine.
i often see my lyrics as self-centered,
but right now i understand that they're just character-centered,
and it would appear that i am the character.
i'm telling my story through my songs.
i write first-person narratives.
when i put it like that, i don't seem so self-centered.
this makes me out to be more of a protagonist than a cocky prick,
but than again, i may be both,
only the songs will tell...

have you ever been angry at someone for not understanding?
for not feeling the way that you feel or you think they should feel?
i do that sometimes and i don't like it.

lately,
a few people that i had been angry with have come to feel how i thought they should've felt before and rather than feel accomplished,
all i feel is regret.

there have been many influential people in my life that have told me they live life without regrets.
it's because of instances like this that i have to disagree with them.

for some reason right now,
i'm reminded of all the times when i have held my ground and been told that some decision i made was wrong, or even just "not cool."
i have a lot of these.

i grew up in a home where strength and standing your ground were not just good qualities to have,
but rather required qualities;
that is how i was supposed to be.
but as i've grown older,
it has been made clear to me that i cannot always stand my ground,
that sometimes sticking up for what i believe in or what i know is right is actually the wrong choice.
it's a real "damned if you do, damned if don't" scenario.
hold my ground, get crushed, feel regret,
or,
don't hold my ground, feel regret.
either way, i feel like i'm stuck,
trapped in a mindset that may never feel totally right about anything.

i wish i was good at math.
math seems to provide the sort of control and structure that i wish i had all the time.
i'm no good at math,
only things like writing where the possibilities are endless and the idea of structure is almost looked down upon.

i'm tired.
tired of feeling responsible for things,
both good and bad.
sometimes i wish i could just be a puppet or a tool to be wielded by something greater than myself.
at least then i wouldn't feel any blame.

regret, blegh...

there is a constant battle forever going on in my head that i feel like talking about tonight,
and that is the battle over the question:
does god exist or not?

ultimately,
i can promise you that this post will not reveal the answer,
as i have touched upon the subject before in this blog and come up with relatively squat.

honestly, i don't even know where to begin.
i think that i want god to exist.
the idea has a sort of comfort that would make everything seem ok and worthwhile.

however,
if god did exist, i would be very angry to know that the travesties of the world not only could have been averted, but were in fact created by it.

of course,
the rebuttal is that we all go to a "better" place,
and if i knew that god existed and was caring for these our fallen brothers and sisters,
i would be considerably more understanding.

enter the concept of faith.
i don't have it.
not in myself,
not in others,
and certainly not in god.
i've grown up with a real "me against the world" attitude.
not for any reason,
that's just how i've come to be,
and i'm not the only one.
i know that in this day and age there are millions of us out there,
constantly looking over our shoulder,
befriending for trust,
and always remaining wary of even our closest allies.
is this the devil's work?

forgive the cheesiness,
but i believe the phrase is,
"the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he didn't exist."
how is one to know whether or not their fear was implanted by the devil?
and if the devil does exist,
it would certainly appear as though he's winning,
so where's god?
are we doomed to be victims of our own cynicism?
i don't know.

personally,
i believe in god as a metaphor.
contrary to tradition,
i believe not that man was modeled in god's image,
but rather that god was modeled in man's image.
you see,
i like to believe that the average person knows what is truly right and what is truly wrong;
enter the idea of god:
representing love and oneness,
respecting nature and thy neighbor,
reminding us not to kill for the sake of killing.
god is all seeing.
god is all knowing.
god is all understanding.
god is everything that man can strive for.

"love no god but me."
this is trivial.
it's not saying that i am the only being to be worshipped,
it's saying that these are the ideals that you know are right.
this means simply,
do what you know is right, not what you know is wrong.
duh, pretty obvious i think.

organized religion has ruined this idea of god,
breaking it's own rules and turning god into the idol.
god is a feeling,
and it is a feeling that time is slowly forgetting.
the world needs a revival,
and it's not going to come by sitting around and praying to something that isn't there.
it's going to come from us,
from you,
from me.
we are god.
we are the change we seek...

today i saw the probably ugliest girl at FSC laughing and chatting it up with probably the ugliest guy at FSC.
it made me smile.
they say there's someone for everyone,
so i suppose there may be hope for me yet.

"you are invited with anyone to do anything..."

routine makes me wanna puke.
i need something new so bad right now.
this week has been so structured.
i know, i usually just chill and essentially do the same thing with my friends almost everyday, this is true.
it's just different somehow.
there's always some kinda trek or event taking place,
there's always that chance of excitement,
and when there isn't,
there's comfort;
the type of comfort that one can only get when they are with a group of people that have chosen to share each other's company.
no one forces us to spend time together.
there are no blood ties; we're not obligated.
i love my family, don't get me wrong,
but it's just different with friends;
there's always something new to do or learn with friends.
that's all i want right now, my friends.
i think i'm hangin' with marc and mary tonight.
that should be fun, i've missed them.
it's been a long week without them...

"this is my pen.
these are my friends.
this my life.

these are the best waste of our lives."

it really is perfect.
it's simple, and yet it says so much.

i have all my lyrics and my writing,
and i have my friends,
and this is pretty much all i do or need to do.

in the least depressing way possible,
i've concluded that the lives we lead essentially mean nothing,
so what does it matter how we spend our time?
i want to waste my time.
i want to live my life without a schedule, without a clock.
i'm having the time of my life right now,
and all i'm doing is hangin' out.
this is how it should be.

"ive waited my entire life to make this phone call,
isn't that beautiful..."

it's 4:43 on a tuesday morning.
it's still dark out.
i can't sleep.

i keep having these dreams and visions of me doing things, changing me.
they're empowering in my head, but i'm at a loss for how to take them.
is this really who i want to be?
am i reaching goals?
am i even facing the right direction?
they come in the daytime too.
i'll just be walking by a mirror and i'll stop and stare.
i see change.
i see me changing myself,
reorganizing myself.
my eyes glaze over from staring.
all of a sudden, i realize i've been staring for nearly ten minutes.

i draw a lot more faces now,
in my notebooks for school.
they're cut and strong faces,
like those of comic book superheroes.

i think i know who i want to be.
i'm realizing.
it's attainable, but i don't know how many people would really appreciate it.
it's drastic, i need that.
it's all the heroes i looked up to and never thought i could be like; i am just like them because i am me!
i understand now.

this won't make sense to anyone and it shouldn't,
but i am starting to get it.
i think,
i think this is one of those good posts,
i think...

i went to a pretty sweet local show the other day.
i'm so glad i did;
i was jonesin' for some local show action,
some new music and new people and stuff.
it's inspiring.
i think i'm gonna look for more local shows to go to.
it's just so cool to have so much new music thrown at you all at once.
i miss that stuff.

when i was in the outside inn and dfta,
i was always the one that wanted to stick around and stay to hear the other bands when everyone else wanted to leave.
i like to hear what people have to say,
i like people to hear what i have to say,
i like the sort of camaraderie that comes with people who actually take the time to listen,
that's the sort of thing i want to be a part of.
i love music, i love togetherness,
i miss having a music scene of my own...

i have been cleaning all morning.

i've cleaned puke.
i've cleaned piss.
i've cleaned poop.
i've given my dog a bath.
i've cleaned more pee.
i've cleaned myself off after all that cleaning.
and now, just recently,
i've cleaned out a whole lot of emotional baggage.

so,
i guess this is it.
i'd say this marks the finale of book 2 in my proverbial autobiography.
so much has happened in so little time.
this book is longer,
it has many more details than the prior,
but it is not boring, not to say the least.
it's been fun,
thanks for being around when you were,
i hope you have an amazing life.

man, oh man.
cleaning is exhausting.
i need a nap...

yea dude,
the cast has made some bad ass music so far.
right now,
as in this very second,
i have headphones on so that i can do a rough mix for the demo songs we're recording to give to matt rocco (our potential drummer, who is the man).
we write some pretty bitchin' songs.
i try not to toot my own horn too much when it comes to music,
but i really think this stuff is great.

and i think, personally,
that the new stuff i've been writing may be even better.
i've kinda been a machine lately and the results have been stupendous.
i finished three songs just this week:
"missin' out" - an uber-catchy pop rock song, falling somewhere between the counting crows and the decemberists,
"another happy valentine's day" - a folky lick that turns into an appropriately cheesy rockout at it's apex,
and "laconic" - an acoustic anthem with a chorus that totally lives up to it's name.
they are all excellent songs.
i can't wait to arrange and record them with a full band.

man, so many songs,
it feels almost like we're falling behind,
but the truth is that the songs don't go away,
it's just a matter of catching up to our creativity.
but to be honest,
i kinda like tagging along behind my music.
it makes me feel good; natural like.

i'm on the last song at this point,
i've dicking around on the internet so long.
with my recorder,
if you wanna put something on a cd,
you have to set all the levels,
then you have to record it all on to one track,
and then you have to master it,
then you can put it on a cd.
it's pretty cool,
but it just takes so long.
i mean, all the songs i've been mixing today,
i've had to listen to at least 3 times each.
it's taken about 2 hours,
which is what i figured but it's still pretty lame.
anyways, i just finished the mixing,
so i am concluding this ramble as well.
right about now...

"i'm inclined to believe if we were so down, we'd up and leave."

tomorrow is valentine's day.
i thought nothing of it until today when i started writing a few songs,
and they were all about my lovelorn angst and other artistic/emo nonsense like that.
i even decided to be super queer and name one "another happy valentine's day,"
clearly insinuating my lack of motivation surrounding said holiday.
yea, i'm that douche sometimes.
it sucks.

i really don't even think i care all that much though.
i had a valentine in mind,
but i've since ditched that idea.
she's not really that interested in hooking up right now,
and i'm not all that bent over her anyways.
just being fun to chill with is fine by me.
smoke a blunt after school,
hang for a bit,
maybe watch some tv,
and that's about good enough for me.
i don't need to be with someone on valentine's day.
really, i'm not even gonna go to that party i don't think.
i'd rather just find something else to do,
or nothing else to do,
whatever works.

"and we would fly, if we had wings for flyin'.
can't you see the tears we're cryin'?
can't there be some happiness for me?"

tomorrow is gonna be wicked chill,
i can tell already.
laid back,
moseying around without a care in the world.
yup, i can see it now.
this is relaxation on valentine's day.
this is the single life...

i've been coming to an odd realization,
i think i like country.
weird.

i've been checkin' out george jones and gram parsons,
it's not all that bad.
for some reason i've been relating to that stuff a lot more lately.
who knows why?
but who knows why they do anything for that matter?

it's something i always ponder to no avail,
why do we do the things we do?
i don't know.
i wanted to come up with some kinda reasonable response to that question but i just ended up staring at the line for like ten minutes.
it really is a hard question.
humph...

i just ate an unreasonable amount of muffins from the gingerbread construction co.,
and it was delicious.
they make the greatest muffins you've ever had in your life,
end of story.

it's cold out tonight;
freezing.
i'm far to suspicious;
untrusting.
my priorities are fucked;
but are they really?

i need to sleep some before work.
i'm gonna try to set it up so i can leave before the 22nd because this job sucks,
so i should be there early and rested tonight to talk with my boss.
i'll need to find a new job pretty soon after i quit this one though,
not looking forward to that.
i'm not a huge fan of jobs as they exist today.
but i need the cash,
so i guess i'll just have to suck it up.

"if you ain't got the do-re-mi..."

"i need to sleep, why won't you let me?"

blegh,
i should be sleping right now,
but i decided that i needed to blog,
so here i am,
typing away again without purpose.

i went on an exciting adventure today.
back and forth and all over town,
got my hair cut,
went to a metal show,
drank tons of vitamin water,
watched most of the matrix,
and almost finished a giant cookie from yesterday.
i'd say tonight was a success.

today was the first day that i skipped a class this semester.
there was no way that i was waking up for 8:45 when i didn't even get home and settled till almost 7:45;
it just wasn't happening.

my hair is much shorter.
marc, marc's mom, and john waugh think it looks good,
my sister thinks it looks gay.
i had a moment in the car talking to marc about how that's common in the house i grew up in, the brutally honest criticisms.
people think that i can be critical of others sometimes,
and admittably i can be,
but if there was a reason for it,
that would be why.
i grew up in a house of strong reality and fierce judgement.
don't get me wrong,
i have a very loving and awesome family,
but we are all definately held to some high standards,
higher than many.
it's made me a better person and a more self-conscious person at the same time.

whatever,
i'm just happy for a little more change.
there has been a lot of that floatin' around here lately.
i kinda dig it.
change is in the air,
word up...

ok, so i have mildly been obsessive with my blogging lately and i can't pin down exactly why.
my laptop is back,
i've been a folkin' and a rollin' (for pat),
i've had a lot of stuff to say,
and i have just felt like it, i guess.
who knows?
but it sure as hell is fun.
i do enjoy all of this time to just get it out like this.
it feels like my new room is working wonders.
working out makes me feel good too,
and what better to do when your chillaxin' after a workout then sit down and exercise your mind?

dr. credit is pretty good.
i like him.
he seems like he knows what he's talking about.
i mean, i did what he said,
and i now feel sore as he said i would.
that's credible enough for me, hahaha!
yea, that was some kind of joke,
that i was sharing with myself...
yea, nevermind that, i'm pretty lame.

so i wasn't planning on reping the creep here,
but i didn't have to do any work for it,
so we'll see where this goes.
i can coast,
i don't mind floating,
let's float little homie,
let us float...

what can i say?
we have fun.
marc and i on our little expeditions to wherever life happens to take us,
it's good times.

i dig the chillness of most things in my life right now.
it's just a real nonchalant sort of feeling.
it's fluid.
it's round.
it's just good.

i love good vibes too.
i like making new friends,
espescially when they're super laxed and open.
it's transitive.
it rubs off as if by osmosis.
the comfort is enlightening.
one feels as though they could say anything,
and not be judged;
it's a rare feeling indeed.

i was listening to frank sinatra today.
i think i want to try and cover one of his songs,
but i don't know which.
"my funny valentine" seemed alright at first,
but "strangers in the night" is starting to grow on me.

hmm, isn't it funny how things like that can change so quickly...

what am i doing?
what the fuck am i doing?
what am i doing?
what?
who?
when?
how?
maybe.
no.
well.
maybe.

i don't care.
i don't even fucking care.

apologies to all those subjected to my mumbling rants.
i gather that they were long, incoherent and generally fucked up.
my bad.
i sincerely am sorry to you all.
i don't know what the hell compelled me to call so many people like that.
i guess it seemed like a good idea at the time.

just to clear up any confusion,
i was ok to drive, really i was,
just not to call all my friends and remember it.
well, i mean, i remember calling people,
and i remember that more than one answering machine cut me short;
i actualy remember a lot, now.
i just don't really have a clue what i said,
which is probably a bad thing seeing as how i say some outlandish shit when i'm not under the influence.
my bad, yet again.

i'm not any kind of coward though.
i'll take the recoil face-up.
if i said something that anyone wants to talk about,
you all have my number.
again, i'm so sorry.
i fucked up...

i can't help it.
i have to keep writing.
i just feel like there's so much that i want to say to so many people,
none of it easy,
nothing that would roll of this tongue with any kind of dignity or grace.
and so quiet i remain,
with my tired head just two or three inches from my busy hands and clicking keyboard.

i'm inspired by my lack of inspiration.
i'm inspired by so much of now,
and where am i?
at home,
typing my heart out to a computer screen,
like it's gonna make a difference in these our pointless lives.
that says something to the credit of inspiration.

it comes and goes, the inspiration,
though the music remains for always and forever.
it's a bond.
and no, we're not always serious,
but life isn't always serious.
anything that is always serious needs to take a break.
i get my point across.

for so long i was secluded by my own stubborn visions,
but now, now it's overwhleming.
it's good to be overwhelmed.
it's good to have people that enjoy company for company's sake.
it's good to have my friends.

the ladybugs are back.
well, at least one is,
all around my room it goes.
i don't mind.
live.
do your thing, buddy.
no arguments on this end.

i need to sleep before the route tonight.
goodnight world,
i'll see you in an hour and a half for work...

downside to a downside, i'm spinning.
spun.
nowhere near extremes and yet,
and yet, it caves in all the same.
i'm twisting twisted little emotions into submission.
the urges, they drive me more than ever.
drive, drive away from a heart,
stretched, worn and expended.
it's ended; over, done.
with new rooms, new beginnings.
perhaps the bliss meant less than this,
lesser and less by the passing moments.
i'm no one; nothing and so,
i have no resentment or disdain.
but should the bell ring,
believe you me, i'll be sprinting for that train.
it just seems so fun,
i know that it is.
i know that i'd love living floating and fizz.
the control; controlled illusion,
it's me, it's my life,
it's my life and times,
with time well spent on wasting time,
debasing time, disgracing time,
turning time into my hastle.
i love it, i just love it,
and now i stink of letdown because of it.
no, wait, not me, i rise above,
like the mourning lover of a cold turtle dove;
i move on.
no one, nothing am i,
as are you the same.
you all! you all!
can't you all see?
i've outgrown my fairytales.
happy endings are illegit, ill-equipped.
i'm real, representing truth,
and i'm through with loving doves,
i'm looking more exotic,
i'm looking more free, more fun;
i'm looking for nothing more than silly love...

last night was icy and slippery and dangerous.
my "lack of focus" didn't help much either.
i'm totally sick of my job.
vomit.

parties are fun.
led zeppelin sucks when you're trying to stay awake.

whatever.
i've got shit to do,
well, not really, but i'll find shit to do.
i just don't care anymore,
and it's awesome!
things are lookin' up, PN style!

hahaha, fuck this is a stupid post.
i'm so glad i have the ability to just write stupid posts...

school went really slow today.
i'm not sure exactly why it seemed so slow.
nothing out of the ordinary happened,
but nothing too crazy ever happens so thats no excuse.

i kinda got to questioning myself a bit today.
i don't exactly know why,
but as i was sitting through each of my classes,
fighting to stay awake,
i couldn't help but think that maybe i picked the wrong career choice.

that girl who i was kinda into at the beginning of the semester hasn't shown up for a while,
like 3 classes or so in both message design and systems and theories.
shes either sick or switched majors and dropped the courses.
if she dropped the courses that would suck because i liked talking to her,
it gave me something to do.

there's this kid eddy that seems pretty cool in my systems and theories class.
i can't tell whether he thinks i'm annoying or not.
i keep thinking how cool it would be if i got to know him well enough to call him "heavy e."
that'd be funny.

i like my speech class.
i sit between ben and dan,
so there's always someone to talk to.
plus, the class is pretty alright anyway;
i like speaking and stuff.

sociology is ehh.
i really dig my voice lessons though.
dr.ness is a really great teacher for me;
i learn a lot from her.

i've been working out.
it's fun.
you don't realize how out of shape you are until you start trying to do things that you used to and it just doesn't work.
i go three times a week.
i might go more,
but that would be considerably out of my way so we'll see.

my notice is in at work.
my last day is the 23rd, i think.
i'm stoked.
fuck my job.
i'll need to get a new one.
i'm still gonna look for night shift,
just not 7 nights a week.
more like 4 or 5 would be great.
working at night is fun.
people who work night jobs are all realy hardworking and interesting people.
they're fun to meet and know.

ehhh, my life is pretty boring.
all that nonsense, none of it is very interesting.
but then again, i suppose that's life.
i'd say i'm going through the motions,
but i think a lot of the ways i go about things are pretty original.
so maybe i'm going through motions,
not THE motions, just motions.

oh, how i wish i could break the cycle...

my laptop is back in action.
it's pretty exciting.
even though i don't have much use for it this semester based on my classes,
it's still good to have it back.

maybe i'll give it a name.
i name all my cars,
so why the hell not name my laptop too?

hmmmm,
what the fuck do you name a laptop?
how about Hester or Abigail?
i don't know anyone with either of those names.

wait,
i do know an Abigail.
actually i know two.
damn.

i don't know any Hesters though!
there you have it,
my laptops name is now officially Hester.
why?
because it's the first name that popped into my head.
oh, you mean why name your laptop?
how about because it's very essential to my everyday life,
just as my car, Zoe Sweetheart, is.

moreover,
i like naming things.
it's lame and fun,
just like me...

i'm going to spam-a-lot tonight.
it should be pretty cool.

divergent experience lends to divergent thinking.
there's so much that i want to do,
so much i want to experience.
to learn from the world around you is a beautiful thing.
i want to be so capable, so versatile in what i do.

is it worth it though?
i've often wondered if i have a unique perspective,
as my idols do.
but so many of them had help,
is it worth it?
maybe just once, for the experience.

risk is stimulating.
life is my influence,
i want to learn...

Langhorne Slim - "Drowning"

And I never will know why
Love will pay no mind to me
Love always loved the way it sounded in theory
And I'd kill to be alone
With the strength to be alone
Lonely feelings make me sad around company
Well I'm dedicated and I'm craving someone that i don't know
In this sea of stupidity I am stuck in the undertow
Here come the lifeguard
I'm drowning and she seems so delicious
I'm grounded wtih her arms around me
And I'm, I'm blinded by them ugly fishes
Don't ask me any of your questions
I won't tell you my lies
Words desreve to serve the painful penalty
And it's analysing just how they're spoken
Three times my hearts been broken
Mama, you aint never told me it's gonna feel like this
So dont sit back and settle for comfort over pain
I've been burned by the copper kettle I have spit back at the pouring rain
Lie must gut denial
Smile at it's melting face
My insides are defiled
It's wild baby but i cannot erase
Truth is all a lie and I'm trying lesser everyday
Death to all that's dying, conditioning and decay
Tick tock in a pitter pattern
Balls drop cock salutiing Saturn

Darling I just wanna shoot a gun...

i am not a hero.
i am not a stud.
i am not anyone to be looked up to.

i'm a lazy bastard.
i have very limited self-control when it counts.
i am not a good brother.

look at me,
just take a good long hard look sometime,
let me know what you see.

my name is tony and i think life is salty enough as is...

there are a ton of old and left over fortune cookies floating around my house right now.
so, i decided the other day that i would have one at the beginning of every day to help get rid of them and to see "what to watch for" that day;
just something stupid and fun at the beginning of every day,
and actually, they've been surprisingly accurate.
vague, yes, but that's the nature of the thing.

today, my cookie had this to say:
"Never fear! The end of something marks the beginning of something new."

normally, this sort of vague cookie wouldn't phase me,
but today, it was almost too accurate as i had been feeling just before i had it that there was some big change coming.
it was a pressing feeling,
not urgent, but definitely pressing.
maybe it was a "get off your ass and be the change" feeling,
that could be it.
i don't know.

i'm pretty lonely.
not sad or depressed, just tired of being alone.
my friends are great, i love them.
the whole "outside inn" situation is lame, but whatever;
if that's the most of my problems then i think i'm doin' alright.
my family is pretty good, i think.
my mom gets sad still, but since she's been "on strike" she's been much better.
my life isn't bad, not even close,
but i'm still lonely.
i'm tired of sleeping alone,
and i mean sleeping,
though it would be nice to get a little play occasionally.

i suppose it's my own fault,
it's not like i'm out searching for anyone,
and i've never been big on one night stands.
not that i'm not down for them,
just that it's never been my style.
i'm not smooth, i have no game;
it is a sad trait that all of us with "stanley ipkiss/nice guys finish last syndrome" have to deal with.

eh, whatever.
i'm not complaining, just explaining.
i'm tired of being lonely.
i miss the feeling of being with somebody.
actually, now that i think about it,
i don't even remember what that feels like.
maybe i'm trying to fill a void,
maybe i'm trying to justify this pressing feeling,
or maybe i'm just trying to understand how and why i feel.

i'm searching for answers.
i'm searching for change.
i'm searching for someone to love me.

"and i will hang my head, hang my head low..."

life is fucked up.

that's all i really have to say...

so on the cover of the new york times today was a picture of a sobbing marion jones as she received her sentence of six months in jail for perjury.

in the past, i've been a real hard ass about people getting what they deserve,
but i think my views have matured considerably in the past year or so.

i say this because as i was looking at this picture and reading the headings and just generally thinking about the whole situation, the only clear thought going through my mind was:
"leave the girl alone. hasn't she had enough?"
i mean,
1) she was found guilty of cheating in the biggest sports event in the world,
2) all of her medals were taken from her,
3) she has to carry one of the greatest sporting indignities EVER with her for the rest of her life,
4) she was embarrassed in front of the WHOLE WORLD, so it's not even like there is some country she can escape to,
and 5) now she has this half-healthy steroid-contaminated body that she couldn't give back even if she wanted to.
in short, the girl's life is fucked.

now, you're telling me that on top of all that,
this girl should spend time in prison?
i don't buy it.
so what if she lied in court?
it's not like she lied about hurting or killing someone,
she lied about a stupid game.
they already took her medals and her name is pretty much disgraced worldwide,
leave the girl alone.
let her live her life with the little dignity that she has been able to retain.
if you put her in prison she'll lose even that.
just let her be,
no one should have to go to prison for lying when the truth is found out and no one got hurt.

her judge may be following the law,
but sometimes you have to look past that and show leniency to a person who's endured enough,
because sometimes the law is just so dumb...

pat thinks that there is gonna be a folk rock movement sometime in the next few years,
and he thinks that we are gonna be right on the cusp of it.
pat thinks that by being a part of the new movement early we'll be able to ride the wave to fame and fortune,
just like the wave in the picture on his wall.
he is getting ready to be famous.

what do i think?

i think i've already spent too many years in both The Outside Inn and DFTA hoping and trying to be on the edge of a scene.
i think i'm just gonna keep writing my music without too many expectations,
it's just way more "me," you know?

would fame and fortune be cool?

obviously yes, i'm not a freaking quaker,
but if there's one thing i've learned in my life it would be that often times things tend to go the exact opposite of how they are planned,
at least for me that is.
so, i guess in that respect i think that if i just leave the idea alone maybe it'll happen when i least expect it.
that would be nice...

why do i keep doing this to myself?
wasting my head on a couple of "two-bit ass holes?"

at this point i just want my mics back so that i can be over and done with them.
it's shitty how they're handling this whole mess.
so much for priding yourself on your professionalism.
so much for "i thought we were friends."

i've made mistakes, i'll admit that.
i've made a lot of stupid mistakes, especially recently.
i've done things and handled things worse then they could have been done or handled,
but at the end of each mistake i've made is an apology,
or at least an honorable attempt to make things right.
the shit that their pulling on me now is just downright low.
it's calculated, unlike any of my mistakes.
i'm an emotional hothead, sure.
i mess up when my emotions get the best of me and i stop thinking.
but almost every time this happens i regret it afterwards and seek to correct it.
this is different, this was planned.
this is calculated betrayal at its lowest.
to make a move like that and not face-up afterwards is just plain pathetic.

i'm tired of this game.
i'm tired of being upset over this.
i want my mics.
i want my lyrics.
i want these two "friends" out of my life...

it's official,
i'm a hopeless romantic;
hopeless being the operative word.

did i want to kiss her?
yes, of course.
but i couldn't because if i did that,
i'd have fallen for her all over again.

it only takes one kiss,
one kiss and my newly found balance disappears and i get flipped on my ass,
one kiss and i melt like butter in a microwave,
everything solid disappears.
it only takes one kiss with me, that's it.

if that's not hopeless, then i don't know what is...

i fractured my nose a little bit again at the bosstones concert.
this makes the third time i've pretty much broken my face.
it was fun, it was worth it.

i fucking hate the rights that cops just have.
i'm not saying this because anything bad happened to me recently,
i just hate that cops can up and arrest you for something as stupid as running suspiciously near a crime scene.
things like that make me dislike cops, dislike authority.

the same way the military pisses me off.
that some faction of people can just claim rights to your body is ridiculous.
i'm not trying to be unpatriotic or anything,
i would fight for my friends and family in an instant if i had to,
but to give up your rights as a human being to the cause of war or some stupid shit like that is just nonsense.
i'm a fighter,
always have been, probably always will be,
but i fight for my friends and loved ones,
not some stupid fucking war.
oil and politics are not worth my time,
let alone my human rights.

i'm mixed on soldiers.
i have loads of respect for them for the things they do to help our country,
but at the same time i've never been to keen on the people who run our country.
i pity them for signing themselves over to a bunch of morons.
i'm a fighter, but i could never be a soldier...