This morning I woke up late. i crawled out of bed on autopilot, did my normal routine then chose from the list of options what i had to do. when i realized i didn't have to go to work, i started looking for what needed to be done; for what priority toped my brain when i racked my brain.
i was listening to coldplay this morning, looking at fixed gears on craigs list and thinking to myself that i only have one more year of college left. i feel like i have four years, 8 semesters of knowledge to absorb till i get chucked out on my butt on some doorstep with a sign around my neck saying "hire me", thumb in mouth and all.
it's going to be crazy when i actually do graduate.. i have no idea what i'm going to do... maybe spain maybe israel maybe nowhere maybe new york i don't know
we will see. just anywhere but here. anyone want to live with me in spain? or israel?
tu quieres vivar en Espania con mi?
let go
lets go
let run
lets run
time goes by and time passes by so we sing..
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Monday, August 4, 2008
this is a teardrop in an ocean.
today was weird...
there are a lot of things changing and I almost let someone yank the rug of hope to which I stand one right out from under my feet, but i refuse to fall flat on my face. today was a very emotional day.. there have been three or four occasions after work that have made my eyes pool. and nothing drastic like the death of a family or anything, i guess more so the death of myself than anything.
i attending my own funeral today. i buried the corpse of my 20 year old shell and i'm declaring from this day forward that what i once was is not who i will be. it is not who i am.
I did my absolutely favorite thing on saturday with one of many of my favorite people to hang out with. I went to borders with aaron and looked through a bunch of books, started reading the beginning of a book called "The Road" by the same guy that wrote "No Country for Old Men". I put it down because it sparked this whole hopeless thing. it would be just another book that I have read to put on my gigantic bookshelf that I'm planning to have put in my house around whatever room I decide. a collection of books with notes scribbled in the sidelines to say, "Hey world! Look what I've done! Look how disciplined and how many different words I know! I can comfortably say that I can now write my own novel. and out-write you! I can write twelve pages on the light and shadowing of this room. so INYOURFACE"
but anyways, I started to look at all the books that the beatniks wrote, Jack Kerouac William Burroughs and the lot. I came across a book called "The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry" and stumbled across some amazing poetry.. Woody Guthrie was even in there, which makes me happy because I love old folk. At any rate, everyone should go look up a poem by Alan Kaufman called "let us"
in the mean time, chew on this.
Untitled
"Art is Love is God"
-Wallace Berman
my thoughts just vomited onto the page...
sorry for those who have come across this. this is more for me than for others.
this is a teardrop in an ocean.
stay tuned for more waves of thoughts... or sobs.
whichever you come first.
OhGod.. Whyme..helpme
there are a lot of things changing and I almost let someone yank the rug of hope to which I stand one right out from under my feet, but i refuse to fall flat on my face. today was a very emotional day.. there have been three or four occasions after work that have made my eyes pool. and nothing drastic like the death of a family or anything, i guess more so the death of myself than anything.
i attending my own funeral today. i buried the corpse of my 20 year old shell and i'm declaring from this day forward that what i once was is not who i will be. it is not who i am.
I did my absolutely favorite thing on saturday with one of many of my favorite people to hang out with. I went to borders with aaron and looked through a bunch of books, started reading the beginning of a book called "The Road" by the same guy that wrote "No Country for Old Men". I put it down because it sparked this whole hopeless thing. it would be just another book that I have read to put on my gigantic bookshelf that I'm planning to have put in my house around whatever room I decide. a collection of books with notes scribbled in the sidelines to say, "Hey world! Look what I've done! Look how disciplined and how many different words I know! I can comfortably say that I can now write my own novel. and out-write you! I can write twelve pages on the light and shadowing of this room. so INYOURFACE"
but anyways, I started to look at all the books that the beatniks wrote, Jack Kerouac William Burroughs and the lot. I came across a book called "The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry" and stumbled across some amazing poetry.. Woody Guthrie was even in there, which makes me happy because I love old folk. At any rate, everyone should go look up a poem by Alan Kaufman called "let us"
in the mean time, chew on this.
Untitled
"Art is Love is God"
-Wallace Berman
my thoughts just vomited onto the page...
sorry for those who have come across this. this is more for me than for others.
this is a teardrop in an ocean.
stay tuned for more waves of thoughts... or sobs.
whichever you come first.
OhGod.. Whyme..helpme
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