the rigid forms that our lives take on (or do typically) only appear in mine as the text box i now type into, the clear and completely evaporative constructs of hyperlink, toolbar, advertisement. most rigid forms entail normative social relationships, regular work schedules, family expectations. of which my vacation separates. (i'm lying, of course, but my skin makes me think i'm immune to these human deficiencies.)
i haven't typed in some time, long live the shade of summer's opposite. i have gone to states of the country and states of my own relational and relationship-based reflections. this can be illustrated by the facts: (me typing this from 3 am to 3:15 am on christmas eve over 3 large beers in the short quarter-hour interim) (me singing stone temple pilots' 'lady picture show' instead of matchbox 20's '3 am' at karaoke last night) (and) (the realization that i've referred to home in the last 3 weeks as chicago, seattle, arizona.)
period.
this is a blog that represents my heart, this is a blog that could easily just be an honest conversation between interested parties, friends, individuals.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
queerativity
diary of thinking that changes with setting, support:
the presence of something. positive reinforcement; negative criticism. but at least the presence means SOMETHING, directionality, not stagnant. think of the metaphor of a roller coaster, ups and downs bring excitement. would you get on a roller coaster that didn't go up or down, left or right, and just brought you from one destination to another? probably not. though with cars and jobs we succeed despite. but we wouldn't pay for it, and we wouldn't ride the 5 minute ride, as short sight would prove our instincts. that said:
i've been at a disposition to write since the middle of college. i've enjoyed it. but as of late, it hasn't come as easily, or at all, for stretches of time. not to judge, but it feels absent, my creativity. and now i'm writing about writing--------------
------------- --------- --- --- ------------------- --------- - - --------------------
-------- -------------- ---- -- ------------ ----------------- - - ----------------
----------------- - --- -------------- -------------- -- - ------ - ---------
---------------------------------- -- - -------------------------- - - -.
the presence of something. positive reinforcement; negative criticism. but at least the presence means SOMETHING, directionality, not stagnant. think of the metaphor of a roller coaster, ups and downs bring excitement. would you get on a roller coaster that didn't go up or down, left or right, and just brought you from one destination to another? probably not. though with cars and jobs we succeed despite. but we wouldn't pay for it, and we wouldn't ride the 5 minute ride, as short sight would prove our instincts. that said:
i've been at a disposition to write since the middle of college. i've enjoyed it. but as of late, it hasn't come as easily, or at all, for stretches of time. not to judge, but it feels absent, my creativity. and now i'm writing about writing--------------
------------- --------- --- --- ------------------- --------- - - --------------------
-------- -------------- ---- -- ------------ ----------------- - - ----------------
----------------- - --- -------------- -------------- -- - ------ - ---------
---------------------------------- -- - -------------------------- - - -.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
a truly giving god
it is wednesday afternoon and i am in athens georgia.
the plant life is beautiful despite the untimely season of my visit. it is very nice weather, and though everyone is cold at night it can't compare much to chicago at the moment. margaret was sweeping the bike shop, we were talking. she dumped the amassed dirt and dust and debris into the wastebasket; as we spoke, we stopped, and she became paralyzed with anxiety. i was oblivious to it. i am often oblivious to my own emotions, drinking is often a false idol of brain activity, drinking is often a cause to obliviousness. the sun shone on my body and i zipped down my jacket. a man asked me for money and i declined. i fell asleep last night with my phone on by accident, blankets folded on top of me as cover.
it is dusk on wednesday, and i am in the state of georgia.
the plant life is beautiful despite the untimely season of my visit. it is very nice weather, and though everyone is cold at night it can't compare much to chicago at the moment. margaret was sweeping the bike shop, we were talking. she dumped the amassed dirt and dust and debris into the wastebasket; as we spoke, we stopped, and she became paralyzed with anxiety. i was oblivious to it. i am often oblivious to my own emotions, drinking is often a false idol of brain activity, drinking is often a cause to obliviousness. the sun shone on my body and i zipped down my jacket. a man asked me for money and i declined. i fell asleep last night with my phone on by accident, blankets folded on top of me as cover.
it is dusk on wednesday, and i am in the state of georgia.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
past mid-fucking-november?!
explanationss s s s s s s s
my computer is still fucked
and i've been drinking.
STILL:
1) make lists to keep in order and remember any mundane tasks i may need to do to keep my life continuing.
2) keep working as busser at restaurant, using alcohol coffee sarcasm to complete day's work.
3) feign a continuing interest in music, but feel content sitting on my couch and just staring.
4) take vacations to remember what life used to be like. spend money unwisely.
5) hot showers.
6) 6 6 thanks for remembering to think, matt, to write, to lose your creativity in exhaustion and exhaustion.
my computer is still fucked
and i've been drinking.
STILL:
1) make lists to keep in order and remember any mundane tasks i may need to do to keep my life continuing.
2) keep working as busser at restaurant, using alcohol coffee sarcasm to complete day's work.
3) feign a continuing interest in music, but feel content sitting on my couch and just staring.
4) take vacations to remember what life used to be like. spend money unwisely.
5) hot showers.
6) 6 6 thanks for remembering to think, matt, to write, to lose your creativity in exhaustion and exhaustion.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
good god gd
sobriety for only one whole day brought a lot of reading. i finally finished janine's aunt/uncle book, 'a little pregnant', and found it to be quite interesting. they referenced god while not really believing in [it], and one of my favorite parts of the book contains a god [reference], so i'll repeat:
"Dear God, I say to myself, when it is time for you to take me, let it feel like this: suspended in space, enfolded in love, no longer where I've been but not yet where I'm going, the lovely, breathing weight of my sleeping child pressing against me. I will be ready to go then. Please take me then."
the final words of the body of the book, by linda carbone. they made me feel more like a child-positive person than i already am (or, rather, think i will be in the near future, perhaps).
however, they also make me comfortable in the surrender to [god], to drug-induced blankets.
the child of my curiosity was a symbol of rebirth as opposed to birth, as ideas die and die in my head they compose to comeback, and i stopped this finished book to pick up an old unread, a hope to finish. this is on french wine, a narrative of a man traveling through french wine country in the 70's. i think i'm ready to learn about wine again, and expand my knowledge while curtailing my drinking (severe alcoholism is much less rampant in wine drinkers, as opposed to beer and liquor drinkers). i bought a solid yet inexpensive bottle of red recently, and drank some after being drunk. tried to remember noble french grape varietals by region and blanked due to blunk. easiest thing: bordeaux- merlot, cab sauv, cab franc, petit verdot, and
and?
malbec of course, but i had to wikipedia that shit. whta teh fuuk. stupid. i think i'm ready to remember more, and possible even acquire something new.
WTF!
"Dear God, I say to myself, when it is time for you to take me, let it feel like this: suspended in space, enfolded in love, no longer where I've been but not yet where I'm going, the lovely, breathing weight of my sleeping child pressing against me. I will be ready to go then. Please take me then."
the final words of the body of the book, by linda carbone. they made me feel more like a child-positive person than i already am (or, rather, think i will be in the near future, perhaps).
however, they also make me comfortable in the surrender to [god], to drug-induced blankets.
the child of my curiosity was a symbol of rebirth as opposed to birth, as ideas die and die in my head they compose to comeback, and i stopped this finished book to pick up an old unread, a hope to finish. this is on french wine, a narrative of a man traveling through french wine country in the 70's. i think i'm ready to learn about wine again, and expand my knowledge while curtailing my drinking (severe alcoholism is much less rampant in wine drinkers, as opposed to beer and liquor drinkers). i bought a solid yet inexpensive bottle of red recently, and drank some after being drunk. tried to remember noble french grape varietals by region and blanked due to blunk. easiest thing: bordeaux- merlot, cab sauv, cab franc, petit verdot, and
and?
malbec of course, but i had to wikipedia that shit. whta teh fuuk. stupid. i think i'm ready to remember more, and possible even acquire something new.
WTF!
Thursday, October 22, 2009
thes tife
stretching muscles, stretching strings.
listening, weakling, dead as dreams.
dreams were not remembered last night. night before they were only me at work, mundane and wasted. simple. each successive night brings confusion at the night post unconscious. the science of sleep is playing a lot on [insert actual nap here] hbo now, so i just watched the end of it again. it put me to a lovely sleep, a nap, where i didn't follow the movie, which made it more like a dream, more like the aim of the movie. i awoke from the nap to my mother calling about pictures, and then i just thought while half asleep (meaning not pessimism but optimism, rather) of myriad friends of old, past girlfriends and the encompassing feelings of fallings. i can't explain that feeling, nor should i be able to, the feeling of loving. i remembered for a second of the movie i watched yesterday, of where the wild things are. it was very beautiful and uneasy yet calming. i daydreamed, spaced out, almost slept but didn't, for about 30-40 minutes. that state is a very interesting and important state to be in. very fleeting. i thought a lot about the actual act of 'sex', where it's been for me, the weight of it from a child-like eye.
the sociology of sound: day one. i say the phrase aloud: "nightmares occur while people drive cars." tell me what that means to you, the actual auditory sounds of it.
listening, weakling, dead as dreams.
dreams were not remembered last night. night before they were only me at work, mundane and wasted. simple. each successive night brings confusion at the night post unconscious. the science of sleep is playing a lot on [insert actual nap here] hbo now, so i just watched the end of it again. it put me to a lovely sleep, a nap, where i didn't follow the movie, which made it more like a dream, more like the aim of the movie. i awoke from the nap to my mother calling about pictures, and then i just thought while half asleep (meaning not pessimism but optimism, rather) of myriad friends of old, past girlfriends and the encompassing feelings of fallings. i can't explain that feeling, nor should i be able to, the feeling of loving. i remembered for a second of the movie i watched yesterday, of where the wild things are. it was very beautiful and uneasy yet calming. i daydreamed, spaced out, almost slept but didn't, for about 30-40 minutes. that state is a very interesting and important state to be in. very fleeting. i thought a lot about the actual act of 'sex', where it's been for me, the weight of it from a child-like eye.
the sociology of sound: day one. i say the phrase aloud: "nightmares occur while people drive cars." tell me what that means to you, the actual auditory sounds of it.
Monday, October 12, 2009
the opposite of october
often times we only feel things in relation to what is around us. we are in constant comparison. i am breathing until my hands are warm. i am hating low blood pressure, i think. i am contemplating a fall to winter drinking binge and scheming how to afford it. i've just realized that i love muscle and joint discomfort, and find it to be almost erotic. i've agreed to marry every woman who asks me, with never a question formed from my lips to their ears.
i'm looking forward to the falling of leaves revealing more buildings in the distance. i'm watching too much television and consuming of too much shallow entertainment in general. i'm starting bad habits and picking up old good ones. i'm talking about all this to you. you're wondering, you're watching, reading, you're thinking about going outside. i'm glad it's nice where you live, if only for regional deficit and human weather modification techniques.
i'm looking forward to the falling of leaves revealing more buildings in the distance. i'm watching too much television and consuming of too much shallow entertainment in general. i'm starting bad habits and picking up old good ones. i'm talking about all this to you. you're wondering, you're watching, reading, you're thinking about going outside. i'm glad it's nice where you live, if only for regional deficit and human weather modification techniques.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
women are woven
constructed in clay, feathered in layers of deep texture. thread count high, it always seems. even when it's low, it feels perfect as cashmere on water worn hands and hangnails; when a strangers touch is staunch bleached cotton, her's remains a fresh bath of lotion, painted with worn-in childhood soft. my boyhood blanket and pillow, with matching yellow bird print, can compare in puffiness but not in symmetry the way she's put together. the head moves in cement while the heart sends a postcard, captures her gouache on recycled wood. oil paintings sit on the floor, fallen from nails. her weather pours down upon these arranged and canvassed elements and they start to bleed onto fabric. each fiber moves slightly. once dried, the tiny long flexible cylinders are thus changed, more tense, starched. the differences in localized color and shade forms shape and picture; i can only sense heat and breath, and the differential to which my blood can thus be magnetized.
i peered at a fat baby, at work, yesterday. instead of the usual aloof, the little one looked at me through engaging eyes, omniscient, it sized me better than i it. the father had a funny yet smart mustache, the mother was beaming.
i peered at a fat baby, at work, yesterday. instead of the usual aloof, the little one looked at me through engaging eyes, omniscient, it sized me better than i it. the father had a funny yet smart mustache, the mother was beaming.
Friday, October 2, 2009
a new october
a slice look at the ComEd bill and a realization that the cost of power will go up soon, not inflation but season. the paper wilts and then crushes, blows away with autumn wind from a secluded coffee table inside a semi-drafty apartment. the uneven floors and tilting walls still keep sound structure, but the elephants within keep wailing their trunks mouths speakers sound, creating drafts all their own. revised draft after revised draft keep piling on the table, covering anything of use from sight. the seasonal time change corrects the lapse from unknown pasts, when we didn't have to change (perceptually).
my notebook. my notebook for writing. my notebook for writing is open with yet another vast blank page facing ceiling through vacant eyes and head. ideas wax floors, but refuse to fall out of pen. the pen is too slow, too outdone by all forms of metaphor and irony, to use it as such in type would only deafen our understandings. so i type on a friday night with lowercase 'f' as a sore throat takes me from sleep to leftovers to a possible stand-in at watering-hole turned sleep-house. not due to any lack of purpose or passion, but mostly caution of circumstance. the writing went to fade out, to thank you, to collapse, in no particular order.
my notebook. my notebook for writing. my notebook for writing is open with yet another vast blank page facing ceiling through vacant eyes and head. ideas wax floors, but refuse to fall out of pen. the pen is too slow, too outdone by all forms of metaphor and irony, to use it as such in type would only deafen our understandings. so i type on a friday night with lowercase 'f' as a sore throat takes me from sleep to leftovers to a possible stand-in at watering-hole turned sleep-house. not due to any lack of purpose or passion, but mostly caution of circumstance. the writing went to fade out, to thank you, to collapse, in no particular order.
on literature (Women)
my reading list for the past (few?) years has been scant, mostly due to alcohol, social endeavors, vacations, and scholarly pursuits. however, i just noticed that most books in this period have been focused around the women who have caught my attention. i'm currently reading 'a little pregnant' because it was written by Janine's uncle and aunt. before that i read 'franny and zoey' because Janine gave the book to me. 3 years ago i started another such salinger, 'catcher in the rye', because rene gave it to me to read. we broke up and i quit reading it, and still have yet to finish. i read various Willa Cather works, along with various retrospectives of her work, because of Meg's connection and relationship to the specific author. my Mom suggests anything and i usually read it. my latest indulgences have been jeffery brown comic shorts and collections (by Mary J and Dani B, respectively) and the seattle zine 'dreamy vs sucks' from Janine.
to be fair, i'm also reading 'on the wine trail', which was given to me by a man named rick who was a frequent at the wine shop in flagstaff. and i plan to read 'the universal baseball association, inc' from brant.
but all i want is your love.
to be fair, i'm also reading 'on the wine trail', which was given to me by a man named rick who was a frequent at the wine shop in flagstaff. and i plan to read 'the universal baseball association, inc' from brant.
but all i want is your love.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
fake noise
literacy is ruining me
take loss out of a math equestrian
thanks!
brain blood seems like different blood than is in the rest of your body. i've been told that it's all circulated throughout the body, but i've never seen that happen. i've been told i've felt it happen, or rather that i feel it happen, at all times. i really don't know how to feel about that, though. i could lose or win or stop, or go, and the blood would still move, and i'd still not understand it. to further requite this disposition and deprivation, i'm going to drink lots of water (which i understand), do twenty pushups really fast, play a game of basketball, run two miles, stretch, apply and re-apply. i understand all of this. and though it leads to a nice (?) feeling, a safe (?) feeling, i don't think it leads to growth or anything natural or substantial. financial gain is the only path to growth. to quote Mr. T: "Being able to read is like having a free pass into a million different worlds." and that's absolutely terrifying.
take loss out of a math equestrian
thanks!
brain blood seems like different blood than is in the rest of your body. i've been told that it's all circulated throughout the body, but i've never seen that happen. i've been told i've felt it happen, or rather that i feel it happen, at all times. i really don't know how to feel about that, though. i could lose or win or stop, or go, and the blood would still move, and i'd still not understand it. to further requite this disposition and deprivation, i'm going to drink lots of water (which i understand), do twenty pushups really fast, play a game of basketball, run two miles, stretch, apply and re-apply. i understand all of this. and though it leads to a nice (?) feeling, a safe (?) feeling, i don't think it leads to growth or anything natural or substantial. financial gain is the only path to growth. to quote Mr. T: "Being able to read is like having a free pass into a million different worlds." and that's absolutely terrifying.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
the reliance.
so i'm down on money and high on time.
i used to keep up with friends and internet, phone and frenzy.
don't so much anymore.
in love,
with lack of time,
with woman.
i mean absolutely no harm and no regret. luungs.
i used to keep up with friends and internet, phone and frenzy.
don't so much anymore.
in love,
with lack of time,
with woman.
i mean absolutely no harm and no regret. luungs.
Monday, August 31, 2009
ten seconds and counting
well, more like 7 minutes at the library's 'quick computers', but it feels as if it's seconds. last update for august, this has been the longest august, but short upon retrospect, as always is. it's already cooling down here, and i hope it stays. i'm house-sitting for a cat, and ate a peach while i was at the sat-upon house. apartment.
i just got an email from my school that they'd been contacted by some outside publishing company (a german-based company) who were interested in publishing my thesis. whether this happens or not is inconsequential at the moment; it has made me realize i very much DO need to follow my 'professional' career, which would be good for me. i'm applying for jobs, though everyone is asking me for things that seem unrealistic or time-insensitive. it's my view that we need better people up top, hiring people, but maybe it's just my view. i need to go running all this week if i want any shot at being ready to run the chicago marathon in october. that will come quick. i'll be in arizona from sept 8-14. i'll be in denver sept 14-16. i'll be in chicago after that. don't know after that.
i just got an email from my school that they'd been contacted by some outside publishing company (a german-based company) who were interested in publishing my thesis. whether this happens or not is inconsequential at the moment; it has made me realize i very much DO need to follow my 'professional' career, which would be good for me. i'm applying for jobs, though everyone is asking me for things that seem unrealistic or time-insensitive. it's my view that we need better people up top, hiring people, but maybe it's just my view. i need to go running all this week if i want any shot at being ready to run the chicago marathon in october. that will come quick. i'll be in arizona from sept 8-14. i'll be in denver sept 14-16. i'll be in chicago after that. don't know after that.
Friday, August 21, 2009
the advent
i was recently reminded of 'free writing' from a friend here. the guy just sat down and put pen to paper, saw what happened, wrote a song. i explained that i hadn't done truly 'free' writing since junior year of high school, which was when my then hated english teacher forced us too. now loved, i'm sure.
this simple conversation at club rainbo blossomed into my current situation of writing thoughts of whatever comes to mind in a specific library-bound time period; just putting fingers to keys. my last post was that, as was this, as will be future posts. my ability to think of and plan blogs has vanished, so this outlet will be my corner in the room, the one you don't notice until it's super dirty, and cleaning it becomes it's only real function.
i wanted to take a picture of myself in this library, with a close background of book rows, and a sign that reads "NON-FICTION". i decided that, whereas i would have no problem with this, onlookers would give attention, which (ANY attention on one person) is taboo at public libraries. so i didn't do it. so went into the reading room and read some of my current book, 'adventures on the wine route', by a fucking pig named kermit lynch. slightly insightful, though, and mostly aimed at my expansion of wine knowledge. (if a mirror looks in a mirror, do black holes erupt?). now i'm leaving to bike in this wind, this unseasonal and most likely short-lived cold, and hopefully not get super wet with rain, if it comes down.
this simple conversation at club rainbo blossomed into my current situation of writing thoughts of whatever comes to mind in a specific library-bound time period; just putting fingers to keys. my last post was that, as was this, as will be future posts. my ability to think of and plan blogs has vanished, so this outlet will be my corner in the room, the one you don't notice until it's super dirty, and cleaning it becomes it's only real function.
i wanted to take a picture of myself in this library, with a close background of book rows, and a sign that reads "NON-FICTION". i decided that, whereas i would have no problem with this, onlookers would give attention, which (ANY attention on one person) is taboo at public libraries. so i didn't do it. so went into the reading room and read some of my current book, 'adventures on the wine route', by a fucking pig named kermit lynch. slightly insightful, though, and mostly aimed at my expansion of wine knowledge. (if a mirror looks in a mirror, do black holes erupt?). now i'm leaving to bike in this wind, this unseasonal and most likely short-lived cold, and hopefully not get super wet with rain, if it comes down.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
no one wants to die
headache
brownie bites through headache but
exercise can deal with that
can only look for future
revenue
transportation
imagination
forced into buildings
for communication and expo
for offerings of myself toward future employment
forced offerings
books
video
moving
fast.
false idols and interpretations
longing and slight of word does not mean saddness
a girlfriend once asked me, often, "are you depressed?",
because she was depressed.
needless to say it didn't work out.
she was only depressed because it wouldn't work with us.
i would absoluetly say i'm never depressed
only riding waves up and down
and if they're sloping low
they're bound to shoot up.
we can't live underground
CORRECTION:
i can't live underground.
brownie bites through headache but
exercise can deal with that
can only look for future
revenue
transportation
imagination
forced into buildings
for communication and expo
for offerings of myself toward future employment
forced offerings
books
video
moving
fast.
false idols and interpretations
longing and slight of word does not mean saddness
a girlfriend once asked me, often, "are you depressed?",
because she was depressed.
needless to say it didn't work out.
she was only depressed because it wouldn't work with us.
i would absoluetly say i'm never depressed
only riding waves up and down
and if they're sloping low
they're bound to shoot up.
we can't live underground
CORRECTION:
i can't live underground.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
fuck i never update this!!!!!
because my computer if fucked, again! i'm at the library. if you know some way to fix a mac that's beyond repair, let me know.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Welcome to Tiger
MAC OS X v10.4
i guess that's old? it must be, because my computer has been permanently reverted back to it, and nothing works on the internet now. all flash sites (which is fucking EVERYTHING) shuts down. facebook will work, for some reason. this site (blogspot) works if i click on things quick. i have no idea if this post will work. hence- i haven't posted on here for a while.
the computer broke while i was at work and mary jessica was using it. not that it was her fault; the computer has been steadily fucking up for some time now. this time, i lost everything that was backed up, and it really doesn't work much at all except for a tentative internet device for non-flash sites (of sites that have very little advanced code) and a way to type out things that i want to get typed out. so that's nice. the weekend that mary jessica was here was SUPER fun, and meg and eddie were here as well. i really like eddie (meg's squeeze). we all danced to michael jackson the night before he died (really, weird). since that weekend, i went to milwaukee to see sam (SUPER FUN) and met his squeeze angelique (very cool). then on the 4th janine came into town, which was (again) super fun and nice and surreal. the 4th was nuts in the city, with fireworks popping off literally everywhere around you for about the whole week of and after the 4th. but especially the fourth.
now i worked a shitload and am starting to save money. weather in chicago has been fucking ideal. drank a lot with company (obviously) and have not drank as much since (which feels great). however, pitchfork is this weekend and i will drink my ass off, as i am going as a character (upton) to promote a vegetarian product that i love. kinda weird. lotsa flask and plastic cup action. also, keenan will be in town. i just ate most of a red pepper and am doing sit-ups. i'm sure i still love you.
i guess that's old? it must be, because my computer has been permanently reverted back to it, and nothing works on the internet now. all flash sites (which is fucking EVERYTHING) shuts down. facebook will work, for some reason. this site (blogspot) works if i click on things quick. i have no idea if this post will work. hence- i haven't posted on here for a while.
the computer broke while i was at work and mary jessica was using it. not that it was her fault; the computer has been steadily fucking up for some time now. this time, i lost everything that was backed up, and it really doesn't work much at all except for a tentative internet device for non-flash sites (of sites that have very little advanced code) and a way to type out things that i want to get typed out. so that's nice. the weekend that mary jessica was here was SUPER fun, and meg and eddie were here as well. i really like eddie (meg's squeeze). we all danced to michael jackson the night before he died (really, weird). since that weekend, i went to milwaukee to see sam (SUPER FUN) and met his squeeze angelique (very cool). then on the 4th janine came into town, which was (again) super fun and nice and surreal. the 4th was nuts in the city, with fireworks popping off literally everywhere around you for about the whole week of and after the 4th. but especially the fourth.
now i worked a shitload and am starting to save money. weather in chicago has been fucking ideal. drank a lot with company (obviously) and have not drank as much since (which feels great). however, pitchfork is this weekend and i will drink my ass off, as i am going as a character (upton) to promote a vegetarian product that i love. kinda weird. lotsa flask and plastic cup action. also, keenan will be in town. i just ate most of a red pepper and am doing sit-ups. i'm sure i still love you.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
the tuning in
shows the last time i saw a show was at the bottom lounge i saw propagandhi and they were cool i sang to every word well not every word just all the words from their earlier albums i mean i like their last 2 albums but i really don't listen to them that much. the first band was called explode and make up which is kinda a shitty name but it's dennis from 88 fingers louie but he's old which isn't a big deal but it is when he just talks about being old between every song it's ridiculous and he was wearing an at the drive in t shirt and i recognized the guitar player from handlebar he always comes in with his kid which is cool but it was a bummer because the only song that got a lot of attention from people was a cover of minor threat
screaming at a wall
that was the name of the song. strike anywhere was next and they were good but then propagandhi ripped it and it was really fun i was TOTALLY soaked at the end and then biked home and i was still wet! ohmyGOSH and i saw a show last night and it was really neat but it's so hot here now and i'm just sweaty
screaming at a wall
that was the name of the song. strike anywhere was next and they were good but then propagandhi ripped it and it was really fun i was TOTALLY soaked at the end and then biked home and i was still wet! ohmyGOSH and i saw a show last night and it was really neat but it's so hot here now and i'm just sweaty
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Puerto Rican Suave
so this weekend here is the yearly puerto rican fest, and it's in my neighborhood because i live in the puerto rican district, in this latitude bordered by western and california ave. there's a fair very close to my house, which is cool but kind of a bummer due to how crazy people around all of this. i was told white people got fucked with a lot here, especially at night, but after asking around it seems that hispanic people get messed with a lot more because of the specific racial rivalry in my area. hence, i think i will try to steer clear of the festivities, as i work anyways this weekend and am busy with other events, not to mention house/dog/cat-sitting for friends of mine.
i still went running today, and ended up going only about 3.5 miles then walking the rest of the way home. i was listening to that new a-trak mix, but wasn't feeling it, so switched to grizzly bear and walking, which worked better. i run in shorter shorts, and no sleeves, which makes me stand out quite a bit in this neighborhood. i've gotten snide comments, but they always seem lighthearted so i haven't worried much. i need to keep running; it seems that i've become more addicted to running than i am caffeine or alcohol these days. weird. i'm very tired, and as you can tell this blog is mostly informational, and i only wrote it to post something on here because i've been neglecting it more as of recent. i'm not going to proofread it, which i usually do. it's funny how something can be so important in your life, and then it can get neglected so easily with just a small change of perspective or mood. this is not insightful.
i still went running today, and ended up going only about 3.5 miles then walking the rest of the way home. i was listening to that new a-trak mix, but wasn't feeling it, so switched to grizzly bear and walking, which worked better. i run in shorter shorts, and no sleeves, which makes me stand out quite a bit in this neighborhood. i've gotten snide comments, but they always seem lighthearted so i haven't worried much. i need to keep running; it seems that i've become more addicted to running than i am caffeine or alcohol these days. weird. i'm very tired, and as you can tell this blog is mostly informational, and i only wrote it to post something on here because i've been neglecting it more as of recent. i'm not going to proofread it, which i usually do. it's funny how something can be so important in your life, and then it can get neglected so easily with just a small change of perspective or mood. this is not insightful.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
music, the devil, and me
brant and i usually wake and watch vh1 presents 'the most awful shit that still can pass as music, somehow'. i said it all sounds the same as i first started listening to it, and now i've attuned my ear to the differences in each song, but still think it all sounds the same. no, i KNOW it does. the joys of cable. in a similar sense, i've again brought to the forefront of my mind the joys of stupid faux-emotional writing. accordingly, i give you:
'the delicacies of human emotion'
muscles quaff as tails betwixt legs,
and we all remember, again
member,
that parts of speech do not have to belong.
we're not all english teachers.
we're all english, though.
blinders on eyes,
racism exists through white lines,
the staring of clouds creates density of minds.
even tires get tired, sometimes.
'the delicacies of human emotion'
muscles quaff as tails betwixt legs,
and we all remember, again
member,
that parts of speech do not have to belong.
we're not all english teachers.
we're all english, though.
blinders on eyes,
racism exists through white lines,
the staring of clouds creates density of minds.
even tires get tired, sometimes.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Gimmy V and the XLRATOR
so the story goes that russ and i were at the highland park garbage day last month. we turned a corner, immediately and instinctually fixed our eyes on a bottle of smirnoff atop a discarded dresser. i checked the dresser and it kinda stunk, but we quickly took the bottle and were like "is this for real?" i smelled the liquid inside and it seemed a bit weak, but still vodka nonetheless. we thought for a minute and formulated the plan that perhaps a 'tween in this rich north chicago suburb drank a bit of it, and then leveled out the bottle with some mineral water to hide it from the 'rents. the father inevitably noticed the weakness of his afterwork drink, and instead of pouring it out and throwing it away (as would usually be the case, one would suspect) he made a public spectacle of the debacle by marching out to the street on bulk garbage day and slammed town the 3/4th full bottle on a throw-away dresser. fiction aside, i poured some of the vodka in an old coffee cup and tried it on the freeway during the commute back to the city. it tasted disgusting, but i think mostly because i was drinking warm vodka that reeked of old coffee. since that day, it sits on my food shelf as a reminder of what could be, anytime, and what once was of my awesome finds on highland park garbage day. the garbage vodka (nicknamed "Gimmy V", but pronounced 'Jimmy V', spelled with a 'G' to denote that it is from the garbage) will hopefully last for months to come; drinking it in a night would be all to shameful to me. we often nip at it, though, sometimes with local kombucha, in order to take the good with the bad and end even.
on an existentially relative note, but very non-sectorial by literal means, is the fact that i washed my hands during an upton's demo at the south loop whole foods. what was special about this was the device by which my hands were dried upon the finish of lather and rinse. i thought the 'XLRATOR' (found in such fine bathrooms as those supplied by gas stations in iowa, or by the new frontiers in flagstaff) was good? this shit was a white box that had two flat solid parts coming up from it, where one puts their hands between the parts on top and the drying comes at you from BOTH angles, then either evaporates or drips into a small basin and drain below. holy shit it was fun! it seemed like a prop from star wars. if i could only combine the actions of drinking garbage vodka and drying my hands at the south loop whole foods employee bathroom then i would have no need for this simple blog.
on an existentially relative note, but very non-sectorial by literal means, is the fact that i washed my hands during an upton's demo at the south loop whole foods. what was special about this was the device by which my hands were dried upon the finish of lather and rinse. i thought the 'XLRATOR' (found in such fine bathrooms as those supplied by gas stations in iowa, or by the new frontiers in flagstaff) was good? this shit was a white box that had two flat solid parts coming up from it, where one puts their hands between the parts on top and the drying comes at you from BOTH angles, then either evaporates or drips into a small basin and drain below. holy shit it was fun! it seemed like a prop from star wars. if i could only combine the actions of drinking garbage vodka and drying my hands at the south loop whole foods employee bathroom then i would have no need for this simple blog.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
correcsive
so, since the last post, i have blacked out twice in two nights. quite a lovely couple of overnight drunks, thanks especially to keith, brant, dani, and the ol' handlebar. i had ex with my sex girlfriend. (you know). so to claire-i-fy:
extend the arms out as much as possible, complete right angles to your body, flexing muscles. concentrate on the exact chemerical processes at work, while keeping focus on the paint of your body on white life canvas. scabs up and down arms and legs don't matter as much as black drink photos and dirty dollar bills. connecting, connecting, swimming, reading.
still
watching jaws
---
extend the arms out as much as possible, complete right angles to your body, flexing muscles. concentrate on the exact chemerical processes at work, while keeping focus on the paint of your body on white life canvas. scabs up and down arms and legs don't matter as much as black drink photos and dirty dollar bills. connecting, connecting, swimming, reading.
still
watching jaws
---
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
i wish i were anne hathaway
i just realized, i think, i think i haven't blacked out in 2009. even if that's not completely true, i know i haven't in a long time. now that i've gotten into a slight routine again in chicago, i probably drink most days, but only a few, or one, which i had a hard time doing in the past. i had 5 pints and a shot last night, and i was good; after seeing a show at quenchers i went home and didn't finish the torpedo ipa in the fridge, or hit the garbage vodka. (i know, 'garbage vodka' could use some explanation, but that deserves it's very own blog entry, which i will do sometime soon). i feel good now, and am ready for a long day at work. i'm doing a demo at the south loop whole foods, biking there because the weather is lovingly overcast, and then closing up the handlebar before opening it on sunday and hopefully hanging out with keith whilst attending the division street musicfest. nonetheless.
this may just be the year of the white-out.
this may just be the year of the white-out.
Monday, May 25, 2009
cubs are losing in the 7th
this is an email to dani, subject of "life", body as follows:
"i think i've spent the last many years thinking i know what sex is, and what communication is, and i really don't. thanks for understanding. i texted kathy (woman who traded me for the this american life ticket) and said thanks for the offer, but i'm now watching it on tv, and i was with friends. she responded with:
"Hey, no problem! i tried everyone i could think of. turned out that my prom date's little brother & his friends...i went to prom in 1991. Ha!"
due to the lack of cohesion and punctuation, i assume she's as drunk as i am. at least. but i got the point, right? funny connection, though. you are sweet to say what you said. quenchers on friday? xo,
matt"
quotes within quotes get lost in translation.
"i think i've spent the last many years thinking i know what sex is, and what communication is, and i really don't. thanks for understanding. i texted kathy (woman who traded me for the this american life ticket) and said thanks for the offer, but i'm now watching it on tv, and i was with friends. she responded with:
"Hey, no problem! i tried everyone i could think of. turned out that my prom date's little brother & his friends...i went to prom in 1991. Ha!"
due to the lack of cohesion and punctuation, i assume she's as drunk as i am. at least. but i got the point, right? funny connection, though. you are sweet to say what you said. quenchers on friday? xo,
matt"
quotes within quotes get lost in translation.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Green Airplanes
I spent all day yesterday working for upton's naturals; did i mention i love that company? i helped them to set up for the chicago greenfest at navy pier, and i'd love to be working there this weekend but, instead, i'm off to arizona, soon. phoenix on saturday, or tucson, then wedding in tucson on sunday, caleb, a friend from high school and early college. monday morning we're all going from flagstaff to the creek and you (yes, YOU) should fucking go, too. prescott on monday afternoon and night, then flying back on tuesday. get to see the winders, too. i'm so happy about that. live in chicago. though.
on a lighter note of internet conversation:
1) when did beeteedubs as a BTW replacement become so fucking widespread??? fuck
2) russ coined "chillaxitude" as yet another modern meme, so please look for it in this weeks episode of 'saturday night live'
3) the 'teamster 2-hand' in regards to hand-jobs
4) blogs as conduit for social wankery
on a lighter note of internet conversation:
1) when did beeteedubs as a BTW replacement become so fucking widespread??? fuck
2) russ coined "chillaxitude" as yet another modern meme, so please look for it in this weeks episode of 'saturday night live'
3) the 'teamster 2-hand' in regards to hand-jobs
4) blogs as conduit for social wankery
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
thus lost
did not type much last few days, been working and running, some going out, quite tired. all work and all play make matt something something. get lazy? don't mind if i do. still not typing much, but also recognizing the fact that i've given up the creative urge as of late. which is fine, but strange. i (maybe finally?) gave up a writing project i had with my friend/professor, a book that we never got published. good story, but not packaged well. we had large new yorker publishers looking at it, which is an awesome opportunity for a petite failure. i wrote the following on a train from tacoma to portland, and i don't know why. i will post it so that it is not lost forever into nothingness, but mostly to fill space because i don't feel like typing much else. perchance:
"My Study. Always a place of peace, despite the stack of things to be done that scatters my view of it. As a child, I’d wander into my father’s study, big and bold, dull cabinets with fancy archaic locks on drawers. I’d wonder at what was in there, pry little fingers into places they could get caught. The drawers would open and I would wander around, never understanding the drift of paper, it’s order, it’s sentiment. I grew up and took a slight pity on myself for now knowing all the meticulous symbols, though I’m sure the child wouldn’t want my pity. Perhaps.
As the cells of my body grew, cells still thinner than a sheet of letterhead, the ideas of “my study” grew and grew and grew, exponentially, until they fit neatly and securely into the box constructed by my father.
He was a stark and rigid man. He was on the heads-up side of the law. He would file things needlessly, receipts, trip ticks, memoirs. He had lost his father at a young age. He still hung onto things, which constituted the makeup of his study more than actual projects or things to do. I tried, consciously, to keep that opposite.
My study currently is filled with achievement. Hung on the wall or perched on my desk are frames, slices of wood that bring protection and importance to photos of my family, art that has been made in my name, book covers. The two portraits of humans are probably the most significant of my framed collection.
The first and slightly larger of the two is of me beside my family, wife Janet, twins Julianne and Trevor. Twins with matching severe peanut allergies. Twins who astound me daily, who came from indisputable odds. A woman who tore through my wreck of a life and my torrential divorce to ---"
from "a density of time and place"
"My Study. Always a place of peace, despite the stack of things to be done that scatters my view of it. As a child, I’d wander into my father’s study, big and bold, dull cabinets with fancy archaic locks on drawers. I’d wonder at what was in there, pry little fingers into places they could get caught. The drawers would open and I would wander around, never understanding the drift of paper, it’s order, it’s sentiment. I grew up and took a slight pity on myself for now knowing all the meticulous symbols, though I’m sure the child wouldn’t want my pity. Perhaps.
As the cells of my body grew, cells still thinner than a sheet of letterhead, the ideas of “my study” grew and grew and grew, exponentially, until they fit neatly and securely into the box constructed by my father.
He was a stark and rigid man. He was on the heads-up side of the law. He would file things needlessly, receipts, trip ticks, memoirs. He had lost his father at a young age. He still hung onto things, which constituted the makeup of his study more than actual projects or things to do. I tried, consciously, to keep that opposite.
My study currently is filled with achievement. Hung on the wall or perched on my desk are frames, slices of wood that bring protection and importance to photos of my family, art that has been made in my name, book covers. The two portraits of humans are probably the most significant of my framed collection.
The first and slightly larger of the two is of me beside my family, wife Janet, twins Julianne and Trevor. Twins with matching severe peanut allergies. Twins who astound me daily, who came from indisputable odds. A woman who tore through my wreck of a life and my torrential divorce to ---"
from "a density of time and place"
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
i love art because it gives me a legitimate excuse to be poor and stupid
color coordination seems, to me, to be a function of either money or time. i've been told they equal each other anyways. jel contends (in theFREEhoudini mixtape, themselves) that one can buy their time, while he gets his for free. interesting. x's mark the spot; where holes once existed in drywall, dirt, pavement. you can take that as innuendo if you'd like, which is still an apt comparison on a couple levels, but it's not necessary and not what i meant. though either way is fine.
on phone conversations: white sails bring down eyelids, partially with wind power but mostly through wireless batteries. i try to look through the eyes, and my brain stutters to find completion of
ideas start to solidify, and find text through tips of fingers. what i'm trying to say is that i'm having troubles talking on the phone. i think radiation is getting to my brain, exponentially and temporally, permanently, 6 is a valid number. i'm trying asbestos i can! please keep time changes in pace, and I"LL L SEEP EVRR DAY UNTIL sUN WAKE UPp.
happy cinco de pink eye. 9i(mean)brtda. bra.
28 majic mumbler.
on phone conversations: white sails bring down eyelids, partially with wind power but mostly through wireless batteries. i try to look through the eyes, and my brain stutters to find completion of
ideas start to solidify, and find text through tips of fingers. what i'm trying to say is that i'm having troubles talking on the phone. i think radiation is getting to my brain, exponentially and temporally, permanently, 6 is a valid number. i'm trying asbestos i can! please keep time changes in pace, and I"LL L SEEP EVRR DAY UNTIL sUN WAKE UPp.
happy cinco de pink eye. 9i(mean)brtda. bra.
28 majic mumbler.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Entranced Significance of Sport
i worked 3 full days at handlebar (old/current restaurant i worked at) and it felt great to work hard and have a drink and meal afterward. it's pretty ridiculous how this kind of work is frowned upon by my resumé, volunteered civility and 'professionalism'. i may very well do this for the rest of my (life?). i also got drunk on saturday, watched the bulls lose after biking to a bar that was quite north. i still bike without a helmet, and it seems pretty dangerous, but i really have no vision of ever getting in an accident. i feel as if there is a force field around me (everybody needs an angel? what the fuck is that?). stupid.
i watched baseball, and might do the same at wrigley tonight. i played bags (aka cornhole) last night at archies neighborhood bar (iowa/rockwell) and kicked the shit! it's the midwestern version of horseshoes i presume, so i had some shit-kicking experience already. up by one and 4 points from winning, i had 2 throws left. i threw the first one on the box for one point, and then the second one. the second one. as i released it, i said "and here's for the game..." and got it in the hole, for 3 points, making an even 21 and win for me and my teammate (kyle casey). apparently they were still talking about it at the bar after i left. maybe i have a gift for bags?
fuck. i need to start making music again, and write songs about how i have to stop supporting sports by the minute, so that i don't die a douche in the moment.
i watched baseball, and might do the same at wrigley tonight. i played bags (aka cornhole) last night at archies neighborhood bar (iowa/rockwell) and kicked the shit! it's the midwestern version of horseshoes i presume, so i had some shit-kicking experience already. up by one and 4 points from winning, i had 2 throws left. i threw the first one on the box for one point, and then the second one. the second one. as i released it, i said "and here's for the game..." and got it in the hole, for 3 points, making an even 21 and win for me and my teammate (kyle casey). apparently they were still talking about it at the bar after i left. maybe i have a gift for bags?
fuck. i need to start making music again, and write songs about how i have to stop supporting sports by the minute, so that i don't die a douche in the moment.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Pour Me
growing up in a stable middle class environment, i've always found comfort in being poor (relatively) and seeking to be humble through minimal needs or possessions. a 'grass-is-greener' approach, which works opposite for some (like elvis, who grew up poor and always needed to put out that he was well off in order to escape that initial stature). however, almost daily i get the tinge to finally start making money, have nice things, save for the future. it's usually drowned by a few cups of coffee or a nice run, but what if my food stamps gave out (or, god forbid, my running legs) and i couldn't get roasted beans or a high in humboldt park? if i had $500, i already know exactly how i would spend it:
a new pair of 'expensive' pants; a nice collared shirt that actually fits me, for white collar purposes; a fender for my bike so i don't get as wet when it rains; a large thing of orange juice; a start to saving for car insurance, and; pay off more than the minimum payment on my credit card.
pipe dreams for now, but i'll look back on this in 6 weeks or so and see if i've accomplished anything. right now i'm happy for one reason, and it was what caused thought that led to this blog- there's a freshly washed and fluffy towel on the bathroom floor waiting for my feet after i shower today. as i sat in the bathroom, i set my coffee on it a few times, making rings of indentation into the fabric. *sigh* i love that.
a new pair of 'expensive' pants; a nice collared shirt that actually fits me, for white collar purposes; a fender for my bike so i don't get as wet when it rains; a large thing of orange juice; a start to saving for car insurance, and; pay off more than the minimum payment on my credit card.
pipe dreams for now, but i'll look back on this in 6 weeks or so and see if i've accomplished anything. right now i'm happy for one reason, and it was what caused thought that led to this blog- there's a freshly washed and fluffy towel on the bathroom floor waiting for my feet after i shower today. as i sat in the bathroom, i set my coffee on it a few times, making rings of indentation into the fabric. *sigh* i love that.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Fake Flowers
"it's all about image, these days." -Yacht Loggins
though i say to myself i care not about image, but is that so true? i LOVE flowers. i often fixate on flowers in the supermarket and wish i could buy them, not to long for lust but to create a surrogate object for affection. my last life in chicago, i would carry them from work on the bus, not destined for anyone but just as personal spectacle, to hold pretty for the sake of pretty. they'd dry out and become crumbs and dirt that i would justify not cleaning up because it was once something i cared about.
fake plastic flowers, however, i've never been into. i've actually hated. i touch them if i see them, and scoff, in my head. sometimes disease skips a generation.
and then, there's my room, my apartment, which i try to cover in fabric plagued with cheesy flower prints. i, in fact, got an awesome old chair at highland park garbage day that i now have in my room, which predictably is bludgeoned with faded flower print. my room, no matter where it is, has become a haven for the supernatural experience of recreating flower and color in the most baudrillardian hyperreal sense, both fake and beautiful, dead and reaffirming. and i love it.
i think it's just a self-reflective reflex for me to cover my life in pretty colors.
though i say to myself i care not about image, but is that so true? i LOVE flowers. i often fixate on flowers in the supermarket and wish i could buy them, not to long for lust but to create a surrogate object for affection. my last life in chicago, i would carry them from work on the bus, not destined for anyone but just as personal spectacle, to hold pretty for the sake of pretty. they'd dry out and become crumbs and dirt that i would justify not cleaning up because it was once something i cared about.
fake plastic flowers, however, i've never been into. i've actually hated. i touch them if i see them, and scoff, in my head. sometimes disease skips a generation.
and then, there's my room, my apartment, which i try to cover in fabric plagued with cheesy flower prints. i, in fact, got an awesome old chair at highland park garbage day that i now have in my room, which predictably is bludgeoned with faded flower print. my room, no matter where it is, has become a haven for the supernatural experience of recreating flower and color in the most baudrillardian hyperreal sense, both fake and beautiful, dead and reaffirming. and i love it.
i think it's just a self-reflective reflex for me to cover my life in pretty colors.
Monday, April 27, 2009
monday by weekend
i worked a full day today at my old job, handlebar, as i will fill in occasionally to help both parties out. i need to do laundry and fix my bike. on my bike, i popped a spoke while riding it, and now the back wheel wobbles. i do not want to ride it too much while it's not fixed because it could deteriorate the wheel and other spokes in total by doing so. i do need to start riding my bike more at night, as for convenience and safety. this was brought more to my attention because last night a co-worker was walking home after work and got jumped, and eventually stabbed 7 times and put in the hospital. he's ok though, which is very good. jeff made a new drawing, of which i cannot tell exactly the make up. i will ask him next time i talk to him. i'm excited to see him soon for a wedding in tucson:
Thursday, April 23, 2009
[redacted]
1) went to the first full day of the "job" today, and fully decided to not continue it further. i'd never realized how slow time can go by when analyzing computer advertisements for corporate chains OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER. it made running that marathon in 3.5 hours last year seem SIMPLE in comparison, much quicker and easier than this one shitty six hour shift. on the good side, i've already got a little job lined up with my friend russ who owns and runs a company that makes the finest faux meat on the market (www.uptonsnaturals.com), helping out and doing demos at whole foods (n'shit). he has a blog up too, here on blogspot, check it out: uptonsnaturals.blogspot.com for some nice vegan recipes. i'm doing that tomorrow, and also going garbage shopping in the suburbs for some free shit, again. i'll let you know how it goes.
2) kind of a strange thing, an old friend died recently in a car accident. i hadn't talked to him in a while. anyways, i just wanted to put something up, as an explanation of the title. it's mocking internet communication while still being an integral part; it's so people can keep up with me if that want, and it's not meant to disrespect anyone or distance myself from anyone. i love all my friends and family dearly, which i think most know about me quite well. the title 'kill your friends' is such an absurd statement in this sense that it's only me expressing my sense of humor, which i do a bit too much at times. regardless, appreciate your friends, and try to keep up with them more, which i'm trying to do as well. jeff was good friends with the friend who died as well. i need to call jeff.
2) kind of a strange thing, an old friend died recently in a car accident. i hadn't talked to him in a while. anyways, i just wanted to put something up, as an explanation of the title. it's mocking internet communication while still being an integral part; it's so people can keep up with me if that want, and it's not meant to disrespect anyone or distance myself from anyone. i love all my friends and family dearly, which i think most know about me quite well. the title 'kill your friends' is such an absurd statement in this sense that it's only me expressing my sense of humor, which i do a bit too much at times. regardless, appreciate your friends, and try to keep up with them more, which i'm trying to do as well. jeff was good friends with the friend who died as well. i need to call jeff.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
GARBAGE IN / GARBAGE OUT
i was trained at a "job" today by a woman who smelled of play-dough and had possible facial razor burn. it was the first job offered to me (temp job) and hopefully won't be the last. i'm taking it quickly due to need for money and good hours. easily quit, as well.
you know those ads for stores that you get in the mail and automatically throw away? i basically just put those into a computer, change them, create different ones. i think. it seems like the most pointless thing i've ever done, perhaps, but i can do it while listening to music, and very easily. casual dress, as half the people there are in metal bands; i'm starting to think those ads are less about making pointless garbage that become background noise to a constant consumerism, and more about giving nihilists some rent money and a place to go everyday to be comforted by their (my) shitty background noise to a constant flood of musical entertainment. ah, city.
my secret motives in this "job" (and, again, in quotes because i feel it leads to nothing and is not actual work, however, is paid) are the following:
1) to perhaps find a way to take brant and my address off of the mailing list for those fucking ads, which i've tried quite unsuccessfully to do in every apartment i've ever had;
2) learn the lyrics to the new propagandhi album before they tour through chicago again;
3) lose weight through a constant diet of both bullshit nothings and downtown transit exhaust;
4) free coffee; and
5) cultivate a further sense of born-again virginity.
you know those ads for stores that you get in the mail and automatically throw away? i basically just put those into a computer, change them, create different ones. i think. it seems like the most pointless thing i've ever done, perhaps, but i can do it while listening to music, and very easily. casual dress, as half the people there are in metal bands; i'm starting to think those ads are less about making pointless garbage that become background noise to a constant consumerism, and more about giving nihilists some rent money and a place to go everyday to be comforted by their (my) shitty background noise to a constant flood of musical entertainment. ah, city.
my secret motives in this "job" (and, again, in quotes because i feel it leads to nothing and is not actual work, however, is paid) are the following:
1) to perhaps find a way to take brant and my address off of the mailing list for those fucking ads, which i've tried quite unsuccessfully to do in every apartment i've ever had;
2) learn the lyrics to the new propagandhi album before they tour through chicago again;
3) lose weight through a constant diet of both bullshit nothings and downtown transit exhaust;
4) free coffee; and
5) cultivate a further sense of born-again virginity.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Return Scene Crime
an appropriate entry for the events that transpired today, as an ice pick into the side of a fleshy and beating blog.
i spent most of the day relaxing around a cover letter, rain, and postponed baseball. the situation decided for me to closely monitor the chicago craigslist 'free' section, which procured within the day: a new table, shelving and hangers for my closet, a can of condensed air, more coffee beans, 2 sweaters, a tea kettle, and a 27 inch daewoo tv with surround sound. no shit! it's fucked up what people give away. and keeping with the theme that i'm completely broke, i decided to try to attend a sold-out and previously quite expensive performance of 'this american life' at the chicago theatre. low and behold, i found a woman at the last minute who had an extra ticket and would trade me a gift card for it! i had gotten the gift card only friday ($50.00 at a local bar/grill, which i would've drank away anyways) from opening a bank account at north community bank and figured it was a smart trade for me.
the title of the 'american life' show was "return to the scene of the crime", with themes revolving around that statement, everything from theft to vehicle accident to therapy to crimes against god. featured were the likes of dan savage and joss whedon giving quite heartfelt, funny, and overall entertaining performances. this particular show was a run-through of a broadcast that will be performed live this thursday, both on the air (npr) and in select movie theaters around the country.
and in returning to the scene, as myself being both a blogger prone to gossip and a consumer prone to theft, i wish to leave this scene behind more or less. however, i still shop, i still pick my thoughts off shelves in front of digital audiences and try to keep secrets out of my pockets (concealment is theft, mind you). so i confess today that i still strive to be an open macbook, but have somewhat sworn to keep drunk blogging to a minimum while i sorely feel that alcohol can be a large catalyst for motivation and creativity in my own personal blogosphere. i made the first step by not getting drunk this weekend, trading my 'get drunk free' card for a theatre ticket, and thus writing because of it. though the talk on the train reminded me of the catch 22:
-3 people, well dressed, my age and style, standing as the blue line was stopped for construction between lake and grand. conversing casual literature, heller's catch 22. i've never read it, but know it's basis, which stops me from having any relevance to the conversation, which i wouldn't be in anyways-
it almost sounds as if i'm spirit celibate? no, but it seems 10 drinks a week as a cut back is significantly sound.
i spent most of the day relaxing around a cover letter, rain, and postponed baseball. the situation decided for me to closely monitor the chicago craigslist 'free' section, which procured within the day: a new table, shelving and hangers for my closet, a can of condensed air, more coffee beans, 2 sweaters, a tea kettle, and a 27 inch daewoo tv with surround sound. no shit! it's fucked up what people give away. and keeping with the theme that i'm completely broke, i decided to try to attend a sold-out and previously quite expensive performance of 'this american life' at the chicago theatre. low and behold, i found a woman at the last minute who had an extra ticket and would trade me a gift card for it! i had gotten the gift card only friday ($50.00 at a local bar/grill, which i would've drank away anyways) from opening a bank account at north community bank and figured it was a smart trade for me.
the title of the 'american life' show was "return to the scene of the crime", with themes revolving around that statement, everything from theft to vehicle accident to therapy to crimes against god. featured were the likes of dan savage and joss whedon giving quite heartfelt, funny, and overall entertaining performances. this particular show was a run-through of a broadcast that will be performed live this thursday, both on the air (npr) and in select movie theaters around the country.
and in returning to the scene, as myself being both a blogger prone to gossip and a consumer prone to theft, i wish to leave this scene behind more or less. however, i still shop, i still pick my thoughts off shelves in front of digital audiences and try to keep secrets out of my pockets (concealment is theft, mind you). so i confess today that i still strive to be an open macbook, but have somewhat sworn to keep drunk blogging to a minimum while i sorely feel that alcohol can be a large catalyst for motivation and creativity in my own personal blogosphere. i made the first step by not getting drunk this weekend, trading my 'get drunk free' card for a theatre ticket, and thus writing because of it. though the talk on the train reminded me of the catch 22:
-3 people, well dressed, my age and style, standing as the blue line was stopped for construction between lake and grand. conversing casual literature, heller's catch 22. i've never read it, but know it's basis, which stops me from having any relevance to the conversation, which i wouldn't be in anyways-
it almost sounds as if i'm spirit celibate? no, but it seems 10 drinks a week as a cut back is significantly sound.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Statement of Purpose
i've decided to start the blog up again, in a slightly different format, as i begin more time spent in chicago.
the idea behind this one stems from an earlier idea of collaboration with my good friend jeff - bf(jef)f. we did a 'zine a couple years ago with his art and my words, and i wanted to do this again, but in a different way. i'm going to put up jeff's art with each of my posts, keeping with the aesthetic, of course. i'm starting with some of jeff's art that has already been posted on the internet, but hopefully will include newer pieces that show his artistic progressions alongside my (hopefully) personal literary ones as well.
the blog will be happenings in my life, nothing terribly special, but interesting if you choose to take interest. i'm currently looking for a job (of which many different opportunities could arise) while again decorating my apartment and catching up with friends in the chicagoland area. i am currently single, childless, and pretty penniless. my ambitions in life still lie within music, socialism and social interaction, exercise (biking and running), some sport, and occasionally choice/drinking/phenomenology. we'll see how all this goes; thanks for keeping up with my life and i hope to keep up with yours. sincerely.
current reading: the art of willa cather (various)
current listening: another green world (eno)
the idea behind this one stems from an earlier idea of collaboration with my good friend jeff - bf(jef)f. we did a 'zine a couple years ago with his art and my words, and i wanted to do this again, but in a different way. i'm going to put up jeff's art with each of my posts, keeping with the aesthetic, of course. i'm starting with some of jeff's art that has already been posted on the internet, but hopefully will include newer pieces that show his artistic progressions alongside my (hopefully) personal literary ones as well.
the blog will be happenings in my life, nothing terribly special, but interesting if you choose to take interest. i'm currently looking for a job (of which many different opportunities could arise) while again decorating my apartment and catching up with friends in the chicagoland area. i am currently single, childless, and pretty penniless. my ambitions in life still lie within music, socialism and social interaction, exercise (biking and running), some sport, and occasionally choice/drinking/phenomenology. we'll see how all this goes; thanks for keeping up with my life and i hope to keep up with yours. sincerely.
current reading: the art of willa cather (various)
current listening: another green world (eno)
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