it's a beautiful day. i normally love sleeping in but it's also wonderful to be awake and accomplished before the majority of the school is awake. while the sun's still coming in at an angle. today's crisp and clear. reminds me a lot of the fall. i just said goodbye to mr. jones and mrs. jackson. i hate saying goodbye, even to dead people. i've probably spent more time with them than my own family over the past two months. strange, eh? on my way towards reynolda from reynolds, i saw something large and black fall from a tree and hit the ground. i thought a bird had died. fortunately, it was just a man on the roof, three stories above my head, shoveling crap out of the gutters. more black stuff fell. it was still a beautiful day.
i'm wearing my Hunter S. Thompson gonzo sword shirt today in honor of what i think is probably my last english class. some kids would be excited. i don't usually like last events. maybe if i hated it but i liked this one. a lot. i've been needing to write for a while now, just as a therapeutic activity. i went running yesterday for the same reason. it was beautiful as well, even though i went alone. music and myself and the woods on a sunny and cool afternoon. i ran to the trailhead bench leading to reynolda village and stretched a while before starting off. when i began, i ran to the 1.5 mile loop, around it, back to the trailhead, and all the way back to my dorm. i felt good about it to. maybe it was 3 miles or so, no real way to tell. that's not so great for lots of people but it's good for me. especially considering that around the backside of the loop, the woods section, i was just flying. it was an incredible feeling. now, i'll admit, while i was on the first uphill portion of the loop, this girl flew past me like i was standing still. short, thin, tan, sports bra and little running shorts. you know the type. she probably could have lapped me on the loop some days. if she wanted to.. beautiful from behind. really wish i could have seen her face. bad news is that as soon as i was in my apartment, my right knee started stiffening and within 5 minutes, there was inflammation the size of a golfball right on the outside there. looks like i'll be laid up till i can see somebody at home about it. appears to be an LCL or lateral meniscus injury of some sort, same as i got at the beach on spring break. i thought maybe it had healed by now. i guess i was wrong.
i think i'm missing out on josh ritter at the cradle tonight but so it goes. i'll probably drive out to see the rosebuds next tuesday night. i'm trying to get someone else out there with me. there's a beautiful girl at carolina that i knew in high school that i'm in touch with again. i think she'll go, get drunk beforehand and all. wants me to visit. her life's a little rough right now but i'm good at that. or... good with that. i love her to death, i hope she knows that.
you know, i thought i'd mentioned her before, thought she had a name but i just can't think of it. she's the jewess. i'm just stuck on that word. i don't really know why. she reminds me of a song though, so, until i discover i've already named her, she'll be (my) sharona. beautiful.
i only do it cause Irish did.
Lefty and Des look happy as can be.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
what gives this mess its grace?
unless it's kicks, man
i regret that i didn't get more cleaned up this morning, instead of rolling out of bed too soon before my 8am class and simply going. that my face is the tiniest bit broken out at the moment, something that comes around rarely these days. see, the reason is simple. we did random group work in english just now. at first i was bummed because i wouldn't be working with my buddy next to me. it turned out pretty well though. two thirds of the rest of my group were the football team's beautiful, sometimes nude star quarterback and - ready for this? - chai herself.
i should preface all this by saying that i feel pretty observant, nothing more. there's a fine line that i'm afraid to cross, the one that people find strange. i don't seek out people, just notice them when they're there. it's all in my head anyway, i don't know what i'm saying.
it's been a while since i've thought half seriously about her but i feel like i got a sense today of how interesting she is to me. she was the last to join the group, came and sat down beside me. probably as casual as i was today. she has on this white t-shirt from the rainforest cafe. my family used to love going to there. blue jeans with paint splattered on the bottom. gray laceless converse low-tops. i have the exact same pair in red. last night i thought about wearing them today. this morning i forgot. touche, god.
a confusing incident. nevermind.
her eyeglasses are thick black-framed ray-bans, the exact kind i'd buy. it's not just those things either. it's that she's right handed but she writes with the claw like i do. it's the way her hair starts on her neck and slopes down longer and whispier by her ears. it's her demeanor, the fact that she's a braves fan. she's not perfect by a long shot but if you'd asked me to jot down the raw characteristics of my ideal girl, she'd be as good a match as anyone i've ever met. she clipped my leg once while reaching down for her bag and apologized. she kicked my foot by accident later and didn't feel the need to anymore. i didn't mind, it was a pleasure.
i think it's fairly obvious that i'm a crazy boy. this is used in the context of being a man, naturally. it changes, i mean. but with this... i have no clue. i tried bringing up the braves game last night and she seemed kind and interested. then the quiet kid of the group spoke up about it and i had to address him too. when that was done, there was nothing left to say. i just wanted some kind of in, an icebreaker for the future. i realized walking the mag quad towards reynolda that i really should have led off with wondering if she's a braves fan. because i saw her in that shirt one time. because i remember thinking it was awesome. maybe it worked after all. maybe she's attracted to goofy kids. if nothing else, at least she knows my name.
sometimes i feel like superman, sometimes i'm just recuperating.
supercosmicmoment as well. the quarterback and i are facing each other. it's a tossup between me and chai (i'm guessing) as to who's the most intelligent of the group but i'm the one who's spoken up so far so i guess i'm the default leader. quarterback has something almost smart to say so he addresses me with it. i'm sitting there staring into his big brown puppy dog eyes not hearing a word he's saying. i'm thinking... i have a football jersey in my closet with your name on it. wow. i already told you what a sexy bastard stradlater was.
i'm in a good mood out here on the sporadically sunlit patio so i'll close with a cheer:
what do i want? (to wake up next to her!)
when do i want it? (well... now!)
cheers!
i regret that i didn't get more cleaned up this morning, instead of rolling out of bed too soon before my 8am class and simply going. that my face is the tiniest bit broken out at the moment, something that comes around rarely these days. see, the reason is simple. we did random group work in english just now. at first i was bummed because i wouldn't be working with my buddy next to me. it turned out pretty well though. two thirds of the rest of my group were the football team's beautiful, sometimes nude star quarterback and - ready for this? - chai herself.
i should preface all this by saying that i feel pretty observant, nothing more. there's a fine line that i'm afraid to cross, the one that people find strange. i don't seek out people, just notice them when they're there. it's all in my head anyway, i don't know what i'm saying.
it's been a while since i've thought half seriously about her but i feel like i got a sense today of how interesting she is to me. she was the last to join the group, came and sat down beside me. probably as casual as i was today. she has on this white t-shirt from the rainforest cafe. my family used to love going to there. blue jeans with paint splattered on the bottom. gray laceless converse low-tops. i have the exact same pair in red. last night i thought about wearing them today. this morning i forgot. touche, god.
a confusing incident. nevermind.
her eyeglasses are thick black-framed ray-bans, the exact kind i'd buy. it's not just those things either. it's that she's right handed but she writes with the claw like i do. it's the way her hair starts on her neck and slopes down longer and whispier by her ears. it's her demeanor, the fact that she's a braves fan. she's not perfect by a long shot but if you'd asked me to jot down the raw characteristics of my ideal girl, she'd be as good a match as anyone i've ever met. she clipped my leg once while reaching down for her bag and apologized. she kicked my foot by accident later and didn't feel the need to anymore. i didn't mind, it was a pleasure.
i think it's fairly obvious that i'm a crazy boy. this is used in the context of being a man, naturally. it changes, i mean. but with this... i have no clue. i tried bringing up the braves game last night and she seemed kind and interested. then the quiet kid of the group spoke up about it and i had to address him too. when that was done, there was nothing left to say. i just wanted some kind of in, an icebreaker for the future. i realized walking the mag quad towards reynolda that i really should have led off with wondering if she's a braves fan. because i saw her in that shirt one time. because i remember thinking it was awesome. maybe it worked after all. maybe she's attracted to goofy kids. if nothing else, at least she knows my name.
sometimes i feel like superman, sometimes i'm just recuperating.
supercosmicmoment as well. the quarterback and i are facing each other. it's a tossup between me and chai (i'm guessing) as to who's the most intelligent of the group but i'm the one who's spoken up so far so i guess i'm the default leader. quarterback has something almost smart to say so he addresses me with it. i'm sitting there staring into his big brown puppy dog eyes not hearing a word he's saying. i'm thinking... i have a football jersey in my closet with your name on it. wow. i already told you what a sexy bastard stradlater was.
i'm in a good mood out here on the sporadically sunlit patio so i'll close with a cheer:
what do i want? (to wake up next to her!)
when do i want it? (well... now!)
cheers!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
the toreador
everybody wants body counts and i just want to cry.
i thought i'd sit in here and write about girls like i sometimes do but something more important has gotten in the way. sometimes i happen upon a random song from an album i've heard many times before. a song i'd never really thought of before. i hear it for the first time again and i realize that it's possibly the most beautiful thing ever written. when i sat down, ted leo's "the toro and the toreador" was the first thing on. filtered through these spectacular earphones you can hear the reverberation, the tiny echoes of his voice in the studio. every tremolo wobble on the guitar. every slide of the bass. i was in shock for a minute or two. staring out the window, unfocused, while people passed by, seeing only through my periphery. wondering with who and how i could share this to make some kind of impact. it's the kind of song that i want to listen to loud with my head in my hands, in complete solitude. to see every single word and note in space. i don't know how i wouldn't cry.
oh god, damien rice's "cold water." go try that. when you do, try and find every little accessory hammer-on and pull-off in the middle of the chords, right behind his voice. all the little ghost notes on top of the pillow-soft snare drum. you'll weep. lord, can you hear me now?
(or am i lost?)
...
one more for old time's sake. radiohead's "let down." i'd stop writing about these if they'd quite assaulting me. this song has incredible momentum. i once explained it to my mother, while we listened to it in the car. i don't know if she got it but i felt like i understood it for the first time. it gets up and moves and becomes impossible to stop. this comes mainly at the end but you get a sense of it all the way through. the way thom sings the same verse structures differently is magical. then they tear it down and rebuilt the entire song. then... oh god. then it leaves earth entirely. all it takes is a bass guitar and thom beginning to wail. it's a spaceship to heaven. that's all there is to it. when you hear the acoustic guitar at the end, you'll know you've arrived.
...
i had to listen to it again, eyes closed. staring at a window where all the bulbous shadows move indeterminably. i almost cried again. it's hard not to. this is what the core of life is made of. i saw myself on a stage for a crowd. it was a moment when people hadn't really been listening because they didn't know me. in my dream, though, i go out and unleash exactly what i feel about the song. i'm in front breaking a perfectly good acoustic guitar and not even noticing. it's near the end, when the momentum explodes. as it does, i'm wailing into the mic with everything i know, tears rolling down my cheeks. everyone's shocked, mesmerized. it is one of the moments like TVOTR doing "wolf like me" on letterman when i band decides they're going to surprise people. nobody is expecting much and everyone leaves with their mind blown. some probably wet their pants. that's the passion i'm dreaming of. at the end, i'd tenderly and dazedly pick out the little guitar lick and walk off stage, tired and completely empty and apathetic about the rest of life. that's what that song is to me.
i had a moment a while ago. i was in english class, saying little comments when a girl in the back spoke up. she said she agreed with what i said. called me by name. i turned to look and it was chai. her hair's a little reddish again. it was one of those tiny self-serving moments that make you turn back around and sit smugly for a second thinking... "she knows my name!" doesn't matter that she's younger than me. she's prettier and gives off a vibe like she's smarter and to be honest, to have anyone that i'm attracted to display any sort of awareness of my person does the spirit good. it's a start, anyway.
in other news, i'm all of a sudden closer to another girl i became attracted to last semester, yet another horsey girl. i've probably mentioned her before but i've never given her a name. let's go with chibear. she's a cubs fan and i taunt her mercilessly for it. we were talking the other night and it got past the joking phase so that it felt like we were actually conversing for once. she even guessed (cheated) correctly that t.o.l.b.i.n.y. stood for "the only living boy in new york." i promised her i'd propose if she got it right. she mistyped it first so i didn't have to. she'd never heard the song so i sent it to her. told her not to share it with anyone, that it was close to my heart. all she could say was "wow." she wanted to listen to it again so i played this game i used to play i with special people in high school where we both start the song at the same time. there's a bit of spiritual connection with that, i feel.
anyway, i feel like i'm getting along with nearly everyone for once and it's wonderful. we'll see where these girls lead. i'd bet on nowhere but it's fun anyway. and hey, i hit a beautiful 290 yard drive in golf the other day.
some days are rough, some are just beautiful.
one. two. three. four. goodbye!
i thought i'd sit in here and write about girls like i sometimes do but something more important has gotten in the way. sometimes i happen upon a random song from an album i've heard many times before. a song i'd never really thought of before. i hear it for the first time again and i realize that it's possibly the most beautiful thing ever written. when i sat down, ted leo's "the toro and the toreador" was the first thing on. filtered through these spectacular earphones you can hear the reverberation, the tiny echoes of his voice in the studio. every tremolo wobble on the guitar. every slide of the bass. i was in shock for a minute or two. staring out the window, unfocused, while people passed by, seeing only through my periphery. wondering with who and how i could share this to make some kind of impact. it's the kind of song that i want to listen to loud with my head in my hands, in complete solitude. to see every single word and note in space. i don't know how i wouldn't cry.
oh god, damien rice's "cold water." go try that. when you do, try and find every little accessory hammer-on and pull-off in the middle of the chords, right behind his voice. all the little ghost notes on top of the pillow-soft snare drum. you'll weep. lord, can you hear me now?
(or am i lost?)
...
one more for old time's sake. radiohead's "let down." i'd stop writing about these if they'd quite assaulting me. this song has incredible momentum. i once explained it to my mother, while we listened to it in the car. i don't know if she got it but i felt like i understood it for the first time. it gets up and moves and becomes impossible to stop. this comes mainly at the end but you get a sense of it all the way through. the way thom sings the same verse structures differently is magical. then they tear it down and rebuilt the entire song. then... oh god. then it leaves earth entirely. all it takes is a bass guitar and thom beginning to wail. it's a spaceship to heaven. that's all there is to it. when you hear the acoustic guitar at the end, you'll know you've arrived.
...
i had to listen to it again, eyes closed. staring at a window where all the bulbous shadows move indeterminably. i almost cried again. it's hard not to. this is what the core of life is made of. i saw myself on a stage for a crowd. it was a moment when people hadn't really been listening because they didn't know me. in my dream, though, i go out and unleash exactly what i feel about the song. i'm in front breaking a perfectly good acoustic guitar and not even noticing. it's near the end, when the momentum explodes. as it does, i'm wailing into the mic with everything i know, tears rolling down my cheeks. everyone's shocked, mesmerized. it is one of the moments like TVOTR doing "wolf like me" on letterman when i band decides they're going to surprise people. nobody is expecting much and everyone leaves with their mind blown. some probably wet their pants. that's the passion i'm dreaming of. at the end, i'd tenderly and dazedly pick out the little guitar lick and walk off stage, tired and completely empty and apathetic about the rest of life. that's what that song is to me.
i had a moment a while ago. i was in english class, saying little comments when a girl in the back spoke up. she said she agreed with what i said. called me by name. i turned to look and it was chai. her hair's a little reddish again. it was one of those tiny self-serving moments that make you turn back around and sit smugly for a second thinking... "she knows my name!" doesn't matter that she's younger than me. she's prettier and gives off a vibe like she's smarter and to be honest, to have anyone that i'm attracted to display any sort of awareness of my person does the spirit good. it's a start, anyway.
in other news, i'm all of a sudden closer to another girl i became attracted to last semester, yet another horsey girl. i've probably mentioned her before but i've never given her a name. let's go with chibear. she's a cubs fan and i taunt her mercilessly for it. we were talking the other night and it got past the joking phase so that it felt like we were actually conversing for once. she even guessed (cheated) correctly that t.o.l.b.i.n.y. stood for "the only living boy in new york." i promised her i'd propose if she got it right. she mistyped it first so i didn't have to. she'd never heard the song so i sent it to her. told her not to share it with anyone, that it was close to my heart. all she could say was "wow." she wanted to listen to it again so i played this game i used to play i with special people in high school where we both start the song at the same time. there's a bit of spiritual connection with that, i feel.
anyway, i feel like i'm getting along with nearly everyone for once and it's wonderful. we'll see where these girls lead. i'd bet on nowhere but it's fun anyway. and hey, i hit a beautiful 290 yard drive in golf the other day.
some days are rough, some are just beautiful.
one. two. three. four. goodbye!
Monday, April 7, 2008
gasoline and roses
i am beautiful with the world tonight. in love with the tap of my keys and every single light outside the window of a study lounge in the building across the street from my bedroom. and nearly everything else too. i am giddy from reading and, therefore, a huge dork. i am accepting that for tonight. tonight it is a happy place to be.
i can communicate with long lost friends through my fingers, even if they're thousands and thousands of miles away. i am also filled with a romantic longing, a "le sigh" notion that tilts my head and shades my eyes but does not interfere with the fragile contentment i have been nursing for a while now. wish i had the narrative voice of kurt vonnegut. of connor oberst. of jenny lewis. wish i had jenny lewis. i wish sometimes that i could write things or sing things or play things that i hear. it feels like i can but i never do. regardless, i am so glad there are talented people in the world. the ones who can play and write and sing all at once. the world deserves more of them, even if i am not among their front lines.
the door of my bedroom is framed in yellow light. the kind streaming from the cutouts of a jack-o-lantern on halloween. the door looks like the most abstract pumpkin carving ever. that would be quite an exhibition: abstract jack-o-lantern art.
i could not get work done in the library today, as jake and i plundered the galaxy for airline fares to, around, and from europe. i checked sports scores and moaned. he did the same. i did not get any work done when i returned to the apartment because, though alone, the heat makes me sleep and the television makes me watch any basketball game that is on, and my computer makes me check the scores of other games and moan. also people. i researched prices for a new camera and backpack. for some reason this seemed pertinent to traveling. you know, it would be nice to have money. i left the apartment and walked across the street to my new secret study spot. it's not particularly a secret. the room is labeled for studying. nobody i know has ever been there, though, so i think it will do for hiding.
hiding has become one of my favorite things to do. i am not quite sure whether contentment grows from that solitude or simply comes to roost without anyone else to chase it away. it is not always the right solution but some nights i find it to be lovely. i read for a while in my hiding place and then, when i was done and ignored by the few people i had tried to contact, i packed up and turned the lights out. i stood by the window for a little while, my nose up to the glass. just so when i breathed out, a little fog would roll up and then fade away, but not so much that it interfered with my vision. i watched the world sleep a while, not a single person in sight. a few cars passed but those were machines. the traffic light across the way had begun to blink an arresting yellow. mechanically, like a dumb robot. i wonder now how many times it will do that tonight and how it continues to blink every night without tire. reminds me of my heart beat. i get so anxious when i consider it. i wish it would rest for a while sometimes. the traffic light excited me so that i counted the different colors of lights outside the window. i found six.
six colorful lights. ah hah hah... ::lightning bolts::
i wish i were jim henson. i wish i were charles schultz. such culture. if i ever produce culture, it will be the happiest day of my life.
at one moment, two nights ago, it appeared to me that every girl at school that i loved without ever haven spoken to was with another guy. i suppose this is nature. i was a little down about this for a time but i realize now that they probably deserve it. hopefully i will, eventually. maybe, if i'm lucky, they will be caught between more attractive options as well. i love them anyway.
there are birds singing outside my window at 2:29am. the world is beautiful for a night.
i can communicate with long lost friends through my fingers, even if they're thousands and thousands of miles away. i am also filled with a romantic longing, a "le sigh" notion that tilts my head and shades my eyes but does not interfere with the fragile contentment i have been nursing for a while now. wish i had the narrative voice of kurt vonnegut. of connor oberst. of jenny lewis. wish i had jenny lewis. i wish sometimes that i could write things or sing things or play things that i hear. it feels like i can but i never do. regardless, i am so glad there are talented people in the world. the ones who can play and write and sing all at once. the world deserves more of them, even if i am not among their front lines.
the door of my bedroom is framed in yellow light. the kind streaming from the cutouts of a jack-o-lantern on halloween. the door looks like the most abstract pumpkin carving ever. that would be quite an exhibition: abstract jack-o-lantern art.
i could not get work done in the library today, as jake and i plundered the galaxy for airline fares to, around, and from europe. i checked sports scores and moaned. he did the same. i did not get any work done when i returned to the apartment because, though alone, the heat makes me sleep and the television makes me watch any basketball game that is on, and my computer makes me check the scores of other games and moan. also people. i researched prices for a new camera and backpack. for some reason this seemed pertinent to traveling. you know, it would be nice to have money. i left the apartment and walked across the street to my new secret study spot. it's not particularly a secret. the room is labeled for studying. nobody i know has ever been there, though, so i think it will do for hiding.
hiding has become one of my favorite things to do. i am not quite sure whether contentment grows from that solitude or simply comes to roost without anyone else to chase it away. it is not always the right solution but some nights i find it to be lovely. i read for a while in my hiding place and then, when i was done and ignored by the few people i had tried to contact, i packed up and turned the lights out. i stood by the window for a little while, my nose up to the glass. just so when i breathed out, a little fog would roll up and then fade away, but not so much that it interfered with my vision. i watched the world sleep a while, not a single person in sight. a few cars passed but those were machines. the traffic light across the way had begun to blink an arresting yellow. mechanically, like a dumb robot. i wonder now how many times it will do that tonight and how it continues to blink every night without tire. reminds me of my heart beat. i get so anxious when i consider it. i wish it would rest for a while sometimes. the traffic light excited me so that i counted the different colors of lights outside the window. i found six.
six colorful lights. ah hah hah... ::lightning bolts::
i wish i were jim henson. i wish i were charles schultz. such culture. if i ever produce culture, it will be the happiest day of my life.
at one moment, two nights ago, it appeared to me that every girl at school that i loved without ever haven spoken to was with another guy. i suppose this is nature. i was a little down about this for a time but i realize now that they probably deserve it. hopefully i will, eventually. maybe, if i'm lucky, they will be caught between more attractive options as well. i love them anyway.
there are birds singing outside my window at 2:29am. the world is beautiful for a night.
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