a: i feel like such a gay.
b: why?
a: i'm sitting here slightly buzzed after a club listening to "someday my prince will come" by ron carter.
b: shit, at least it's by ron carter and not a dance remix...i mean...you do live in gay atlanta.
a: this is true. so i guess it's not so bad. i still feel a bit submissive.
b: and submissive is bad.
a: only when the dominant is someone you've never met.
8.15.2010
i hear them mumbling in the background as he goes into heaven.
fuck the club
and fuck da dj
imma be the one
that put the record on the replay
and if you feeling righteous
feel free to sing along
it's the "do what you gotta do" song.
yeah if you don't want me to read into it
write another book
i only read what's there
i'm not addicted to despair
back at home
at 4 am
and john coltrane plays
to my frequent ears
a little too much vodka
a little too much pain
a little too many kisses
from some boy who you wish you didn't know his name.
forward momentum on my wall
does my voice still carry a word to call?
been reading bourdieu
this dominant feud.
how can i change
what the populists view?
these rhymes are predictable
and so is my new-
it's old to those who've had it
and present to those who take the cue.
and the piano is gentle
and i'm good in my mood.
and i kinda wish he was here.
it's unfortunate
it's cruel.
and michael is dead
left eye is too
2pac went before
biggie sang the blues
seems the ones who carry the torch
are the first to fall
i don't wanna be a martyr
i just wanna stop the crawl
i wanna run
i wanna scream
i wanna be more than sexual insanity
i wanna be more than porn on saturday nights
i wanna be more than a bathhouse that sells right
i wanna be more than a wet kiss on the ama's
i wanna be more than Aids HIV and a bloody stain.
i'm trying though
i'm trying though
i'm trying though
who knows.
i'm a vodka mess
and this saturday goes to show
how few and frequent they come
at least there's no blood running from my nose-
i stop at the candy-
it's too much for me-
i'm holding back
there's nothing that this world can do for me-
maybe i can do for it-
instigate some permanent kick
i wanna cry when i hear george cables
"looking for the light" is the first song that plays
how tragic how right-
an ad plays against the spotlight-
advertising something i don't need-
trying to bombast the sweet eloquent tranquility of a
flute and a piano and America's music-
i want to scream out
"GOD! why did you do it? why did you make me this, why did you
abandon us, why did you leave us foul? why did you make your followers
such a cruel uncaring child!"
metaphysical mess,
blessed is the unrest
we keep moving til we find a stream
now i hear john coltrane
and his many favorite things-
and I hear a bit of God
in those saxophone wings
and it's okay-
it's okay i dream,
a little more water
and a little more time
just another kiss
and it'll be fine
a little more water
and a little more time
just another try
and it'll be fine.
and fuck da dj
imma be the one
that put the record on the replay
and if you feeling righteous
feel free to sing along
it's the "do what you gotta do" song.
yeah if you don't want me to read into it
write another book
i only read what's there
i'm not addicted to despair
back at home
at 4 am
and john coltrane plays
to my frequent ears
a little too much vodka
a little too much pain
a little too many kisses
from some boy who you wish you didn't know his name.
forward momentum on my wall
does my voice still carry a word to call?
been reading bourdieu
this dominant feud.
how can i change
what the populists view?
these rhymes are predictable
and so is my new-
it's old to those who've had it
and present to those who take the cue.
and the piano is gentle
and i'm good in my mood.
and i kinda wish he was here.
it's unfortunate
it's cruel.
and michael is dead
left eye is too
2pac went before
biggie sang the blues
seems the ones who carry the torch
are the first to fall
i don't wanna be a martyr
i just wanna stop the crawl
i wanna run
i wanna scream
i wanna be more than sexual insanity
i wanna be more than porn on saturday nights
i wanna be more than a bathhouse that sells right
i wanna be more than a wet kiss on the ama's
i wanna be more than Aids HIV and a bloody stain.
i'm trying though
i'm trying though
i'm trying though
who knows.
i'm a vodka mess
and this saturday goes to show
how few and frequent they come
at least there's no blood running from my nose-
i stop at the candy-
it's too much for me-
i'm holding back
there's nothing that this world can do for me-
maybe i can do for it-
instigate some permanent kick
i wanna cry when i hear george cables
"looking for the light" is the first song that plays
how tragic how right-
an ad plays against the spotlight-
advertising something i don't need-
trying to bombast the sweet eloquent tranquility of a
flute and a piano and America's music-
i want to scream out
"GOD! why did you do it? why did you make me this, why did you
abandon us, why did you leave us foul? why did you make your followers
such a cruel uncaring child!"
metaphysical mess,
blessed is the unrest
we keep moving til we find a stream
now i hear john coltrane
and his many favorite things-
and I hear a bit of God
in those saxophone wings
and it's okay-
it's okay i dream,
a little more water
and a little more time
just another kiss
and it'll be fine
a little more water
and a little more time
just another try
and it'll be fine.
8.05.2010
jazz freedom fighter.
Poverty and paranoia every channel got em for you.
Sick with the critical mass of a new pop culture attack.
So scream at your radio, and scream at your desk.
Scream at the movie screen and scream at the so called best.
Tell them if they've got a voice, to make some fucking noise.
We got the bang bang
but we also got a choice.
So turn off your radio, turn off your movie screen,
Turn off your T.V. unless you see it's me...
galvanize/energize.
galvanize/energize.
galvanize/energize.
GO.
Sick with the critical mass of a new pop culture attack.
So scream at your radio, and scream at your desk.
Scream at the movie screen and scream at the so called best.
Tell them if they've got a voice, to make some fucking noise.
We got the bang bang
but we also got a choice.
So turn off your radio, turn off your movie screen,
Turn off your T.V. unless you see it's me...
galvanize/energize.
galvanize/energize.
galvanize/energize.
GO.
7.04.2010
dear diary. today i saw a boy. no, i'm lying. i saw no boy. YEP! that's my life. lonely.
a possible reason i cannot sleep at night.
i work out at night.
i need to remember to write in this each day.
just so i can say i write each day.
at the end of my life i want to be able to say
i wrote every single day of my life.
whether it be on the back of a bubble gum wrapper
or on the back of my hand-
i'll never let a line go unnoticed. it's a good habit.
i work out at night.
i need to remember to write in this each day.
just so i can say i write each day.
at the end of my life i want to be able to say
i wrote every single day of my life.
whether it be on the back of a bubble gum wrapper
or on the back of my hand-
i'll never let a line go unnoticed. it's a good habit.
6.26.2010
bacon.
Prada. Yeah. Remember when I used to wear Atari shirts? Man I used to hate fashion. Albeit it still is a bit of a vapid form of career. It's not as vapid as I once thought. Especially considering, as one grow up, one realizes the restraints placed upon by society.
I understand the meaning behind hair dye, and scissors for clothes, and learning to sow, and buying what you want, and dressing ridiculously. That's basically the only bit of control you have over yourself. With the rest of the world coming in you're able to protect your heart and the rest of whatever else it is you are (if you're lacking a heart) by what you wear. Even though we always say we are not the clothes we wear and we are not our hair, we really are. Those that take a care and put a bit of art and admiration into the way they look basically say to the rest, that this is what I own and all that I am.
How pretentious of me yes? I know, I can feel one half of myself hating the other half, but it really is true. After dealing with bills and loans and school and work and traffic, and oil spills, all that we have left is our possessions and how we personalize them.
So I now understand the reasons why fashion exists. As a way to be who we are in a world most of us were shielded from as children.
I understand the meaning behind hair dye, and scissors for clothes, and learning to sow, and buying what you want, and dressing ridiculously. That's basically the only bit of control you have over yourself. With the rest of the world coming in you're able to protect your heart and the rest of whatever else it is you are (if you're lacking a heart) by what you wear. Even though we always say we are not the clothes we wear and we are not our hair, we really are. Those that take a care and put a bit of art and admiration into the way they look basically say to the rest, that this is what I own and all that I am.
How pretentious of me yes? I know, I can feel one half of myself hating the other half, but it really is true. After dealing with bills and loans and school and work and traffic, and oil spills, all that we have left is our possessions and how we personalize them.
So I now understand the reasons why fashion exists. As a way to be who we are in a world most of us were shielded from as children.
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