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...