make it your own.

we must remember the reasons we do what we do
so we don't forget who we are.
for in the process or creation
we become frustrated by the pieces used
to create the whole.
keep focus of the gestalt,
while dealing with the details.
keep the remembrance of the ones fallen, hurt,
so you can do what you need to do.

we must remember the reasons
we do what we do.
because if we forget-
they will forget as well,
as the histories that have come before.
unless we pass on the language-
it will die.
there is a fire, and it will burn.
burn this place down.

ba ba baba ba

I've found a coffeeshop that reminds me of chicago.

and gives hints of
ohio in the fall.

i think it has more to do with the surroundings and the buildings
than the coffee itself and it's close to classes.

driving down to sf,
even for better coffee (much better)
just requires the emergence of my loud engine.
and...i don't feel like that.

it's surrounded by these trees and the streets are
just the right size and just narrow enough.
it was man mad to look like an old city
when it's probably just a 20 year old road.

but i can always imagine its a grown up.




and i also enjoy brown sleeves with the simple logo.

oh, maker...

i was supposed to meet with jet tonight
but meeting in the morning
followed by a writing session where i completely changed two scenes...
in a way that completely changes the tone-
but in a good way.
i added a song.
we'll see.
just like a gay guy eh?

and why isn't janelle monae the queen of music yet? i'm still confused. lady gaga interests me- but janelle inspires me. hm,
God bless them
both, and i made some really great
chicken with cereal i had left over.
but i'm over cereal for breakfast.

yum.

who knew chicken and kellogs would work so well?
maybe rachel ray.
but she's a bit of an anomally yes?
with her 30 minute wine making sessions and perky
quips and quabs and acronyms and such.



well,
God bless her.

Amen and Amen.

before tomorrow.

Things to do on 9 22
Look for a job
Room 509 10 to 1
look at cameras
and end the day with a smile.
or make an attempt to
and not a glass of wine
or a bottle of beer.

no alcohol til the weekends.
not because i can't do it
(i've done it)
just because its too tempting.
i don't drink that much
why do i even censor myself
because i want to prove i can?
possibly.

on a lighter note- i finally made perfect poached eggs.



i am the winner.

make me holler.

it's funny how amazing music is timeless. marvin gaye- inner city blues...amazing. and look how prevalent its lyrics still are. every time i watch the news or hell just look outside sometimes. it's not even a black and white thing. it's just all these separations.

and when i look at the television. is america stupid? or we stuck on a two second culture? are we literally the now generation or are we a generation that's still yet to come. the attention deficit is in our blood. so connected to the world by smart phones and computers and rabid technology that we forget ourselves we're so busy being around someone else's. i'm bound to be a rigid individual and stick to my guns whatever they may be- of a boxless nature. of casual sway into as much of different as i can find and being okay with that. no saint. just an arachnid nature.

let these separations stop and not be afraid to forget the box that THAT box has put us in. the tv, the set, the flat screened god that we've carved to see our fantasy. to see something we will never ever be. to see boxes placed so strategically that we can't even see they are there.

these kids and their box. now I'M the one that wants to scream out of a window "I"M MAD AS HELL AND I"M NOT GONNA TAKE IT ANYMORE!" but where am i gonna go after it's said? how am I gonna change this Godforsaken world? Yeah I'm mad as hell but if i'm not gonna take it anymore wht the hell am i gonna do?! kill myself?! or do i find a solution? no one ever answers that question do they? it's always do what you can to survive...survival of the fittest...and you do whatever you can to survive, you even whisper. sometimes you don't even talk.

because we're blinded by the glow of a flashbub that's not even in front of our eyes. we're blinded by the absolute contradiction to all we know is true. to that narrative that's never told by a real girl or boy or by that lover who's never too dark and never too light. or by an organized stunt called reality.

look down at your hands and realize all the amazing things you could be doing instead of jerking off to some smut porn you watch because you're lonely, instead of clicking some key to a device that we can never open because we're too distracted by that colorful display of images it's always throwing at us, blinding us. maybe we're not blinded by the light, maybe we're just blinded because we don't know what to look for. i looked in the mirror first.