Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in The Bone Machine's LiveJournal:

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Saturday, July 23rd, 2005
1:33 am	Hopes dashed and Plans rehashed. As the thunder pounds over the mountain. Bringing with it the memories of the last day of last summer, stuck in the middle of nowhere with my then-best-friend as we walked solemnly between thunderstorms as we attempted to make sense of it all. Erin is leaving soon and with her goes my social life. What I believed to be the holy fixation of all nights wasted, yet it seems it is still all a waste. Perhaps this has been a great summer considering it all falls into the category of a drunken blur. I plan on escaping to Mammoth Community college within the next few months. A place where the past doesn't exist just a vague explanation of quirky sex, heavy drinking and false love. Banging tourists and recreating memorial day weekend with drunken love. This friday was small time chilling with pretty girls who yielded nothing but small talk of the "good ol days". Of days that consisted of high hopes and fragile minds. I look forward to the day I'll pack my small amount of worldly posessions and drive the loopy hills into the small town of Mammoth. Fake ID's and drinking to remember, drinking to forget. I can't stay here any longer, for everything is collapsing. This weekend will hopefully come across revelations of the days of yore. Undisturbed Native American rituals, when the beaches weren't so polluted and the days not so full of capitalist bullshit. I remember discussing politics with imbeciles a few days a go. A conversation ending with my exclamaition that capitalism makes a great economic system, but a horrible social equilibrium. We say we build are services to benefit mankind but just end up screwing each other over for the almighty buck. I despise my job and I loathe these lonesome nights. Sitting at rancho with attempts to build a night, a place where revolutionary ideas were drowned in coffee and gossip drenched bonding. Where reading is required to think of better things. I wonder these days if the extra money of living in California is worth the bit of better times and prettier girls. If I had any initiative I would move to a small town somewhere between the Atlantic and Pacific and carve a life for myself. If I stay where I am I will surely die. The other day I spoke to a christian political pawn on the phone. An old lady easily swayed by fox news and convinced Islamic terrorists have planted nuclear weapons in our state's high schools. She called this diabolical plan Hiroshima. I told her with dry humour that Hiroshima happened years ago and was one of own diabolical schemes to end a war early. Killing millions of Japanese, yet she insisted that the terrorists were seeking revenge. Her only source being Fox News. Of course I thought she was making a sarcastic joke of the solemn situation of our media being controlled by corporations. But she insisted that the only freedom would be God's salvation. I stifled a chuckle as I realized that these fucking idiots will just end the earth by their own means by blindly following Republicans who act as they give a shit about us, yet only abide to the concerns of big business. I couldn't believe it but it's not like the democrats did much better, for it is not a discussion about whose prez did better but about what will happen now. Fuck Clinton and Bush I only dream of reviving the Libertarian party and resigning the better part of my life to a useless struggle. To make a difference, to look past this haze of booze to realize what I initially wanted to do. Change the world and become a hero of unheard souls. First off I can't go back to Cuyamaca. The harvard of san diego. Where dumb bitches just want sex and cocaine and even less intelligent girls copy my tests. As I let them for they are truly beautiful. To the poor negroes of america who I pass my homework to in exchange for decent talk over potent chronic. I don't know, I can't go back. I'd rather do the same at Mammoth and just snowboard ridiculous amounts. Listening to techno as I relax on the cold snow overlooking the sierras wondering where it all ends. Endless mountains with a veil of snowy mists. I miss it already, when will snowboarding season come? But is this me with the vodka in one hand and hopes of simple pleasures in the other? Fuck at least tomorrow may pertain Native American revelations as I sit with close friends and closer salvation. Let me live long and if not prosper under the luminescent bulbs of our time. I forsee the sight of the WAR ON TERROR on newspapers, for tjhey sit casually in front of Dennys for years to come. I also wonder who will be elected next and if it will make a difference. If I shouldn't flee to a remote Island to become a scuba diving instructor and write casually in a journal of rotting binds, not to mention decaying minds. Somehow it comes around full circle, but either waY I'll always be half the man I used to be. Innocence was lost with expectations. Once again everything has fallen apart here and I must be leaving soon. Still I drink liquid clocks until I see God. Current Mood: melancholy Current Music: The clikity clak of the ceiling fan (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, July 15th, 2005
2:24 am	Everything I've ever been told was a LIE I feel like the weather beaten sea captain without the great stories to tell. Where is the freedom? I will surely enjoy escaping San Diego for a few days. Fuck it, Peace out people. Current Mood: Hey who gives a fuck Current Music: Immortal Technique (Comment on this)
Wednesday, June 29th, 2005
1:00 am	Nothing is Static, Everything Falls Apart Goal for the week: Get my transcripts and apply for college. Goal for the month: Excel at my new job to the point where I can quit my current one and not have to work two jobs. Goal for the year: Go to college and fervently learn about something I feel passionate about. Somewhere in there find an intelligent, politically opinionated, deep thinking girl who does not even have to be cute, just has to have an authentic smile. I apologize but I do not feel like writing at the moment. -With any luck God truly loves his children. Current Mood: Introspective Current Music: Radiohead (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, June 12th, 2005
6:13 pm	To the missionarys who fled religious persecution to only continue the practice upon indigenous people. Millions of lives lost for unprovable disagreements. As politics are run by eager greed instead of empathy for each other. To christians who hold the life of unborn childs higher than those of starving "pagans". To their fucking arrogance over native culture. Ignorant millions of Americans feeding fascism, starvation, warlords of murder and ever too popular poverty. Regressive taxes and car payments holding the masses down. With nothing to look forward to other than consumer fulfillment. The only incentive, a bucket of fried chicken that was grown from the powdered bones of their brethren. Infected gossip that continually challenges my sense of truth. Lies that glitter like broken glass on the side of the expressway. Rolling highways over mile deep landfills. Recycling plants home to nothing but drugged weirdos. To the lioness who found sustenance for her parched lips in my already dried mouth. Draining any remaining liquid until we just exchanged sweat through our tongues in the damp sea of Faint fans. To the jolly drunks and their fake love. And finally to the jaded Californian kid who does nothing for the world but complain to the roaring sea of bullllllshit. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, June 8th, 2005
1:08 pm	Minimal Effort, Maximum Results A diet based on the deaths of animals is not economically reasonable, because tens of millions die annually from starvation-related causes and close to a billion suffer from malnutrition, 37 percent of the world's harvested grain is fed to animals being raised for slaughter; in the United States, the figure is 66 percent. Converting grains to meat wastes 67-90% of grains' proteins, up to 96% of their calories, and all of their fiber. Since it generally takes far more grains to feed a meat eater, worldwide meat consumption greatly increases demand for grains. Because land, water, and other resources are limited, growing demand for meat increases the cost of all food, and the world's poor become increasingly unable to afford food of any kind. The universal value of life cannot be weighed and balanced with a scale of gluttony and greed. Current Mood: annoyed Current Music: Public Enemy (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, June 6th, 2005
2:31 am	An attempt to hold the pieces together. Sunday salvaged the weekend with it's good company, delicious sushi and power naps. Of course, saturday was reuniting with an old friend over an excellent joint and one of the best jamulian bro parties I ever attended, sadly it was still a bit low on the danknicity scale. It makes me realize how great last weekend was with it's jovial friendship. Laughing at each others jokes and drinking into the night. As well as the Full Metal Jacket* quotes and random reality television ( NEVER get plastic surgery). And not to mention, the greatest blunt ever. The maple syrup hydroponic blunt that was rolled to the brim in a machine was love. In addition, communal cleaning in the morning and unique restaurants, it harshly contrasts to the recent events between friends. I believe I am going to avoid a catalyst and let everything settle with a handshake and a wish of good luck. I don't know if anyone really reads this so it is mainly for myself so if anything is needed for future reminder it is to stop smoking the herb and drinking the poison and for fuck's sake figure out what you're going to do for the revolution. -Tennessee Whiskey *I LOVE YOU LONG TIME. Current Mood: Conor Oberst Drunk Current Music: Aphex Tiwn (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, June 4th, 2005
3:44 am	A decline into debauchery Fragile moments and failed expectations. Tonight, as in yesterday the 3rd was the worst night of the last month. Which isn't saying much considering it has been full of debauchery and heavy drinking. Either way winding through old jamul roads has left me with regrets and damaged brakes. I discovered once again why I dislike the random moments of driving through the brink of day searching for friendly faces in forgoteen places. It may have ended with strange coincidences with Jamulian Bros but all in all it was a failure. The warm sip of the whiskey holds little weight to my discontent heart. All attractive women are crazy and I found myself amist a swarm of self-doubt. "I think about it everday, doubts to my self worth, the fact individuality does not exist and I am just a cookie cutter creation..." of course I paraphrase I would agree with the tendency of self- loathing and quit drinking for salvation of intellectual thought but it has been a terrible day and I need another drink. Paraphrased of course. Quotations mean nothing when I forget the context. Either way randomly tapping keys in an attempt to tip the scales is fruitless as I need to prepare for work in six hours. I'll make it through and wind up at the beach, chain smoking and filling out PE packets. School is an object of absolute abhorrence but in ten days I"ll be finished. Why are all the terrible days procured into posts but never the solid pleasures of wednesday nights that fulfill every requirment of happiness. Except for driving through valleys until the break of day, either way I need more direction and change in my life but will find nothing but a summer of debauchery and heavy drinking. -Peace to the Stronghold I love place I'm from but hate the ones in charge. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, May 18th, 2005
11:20 pm	Finding Tranquility in Traffic The one thing I can tell you about writing is that you have to stay at it with the drive of a benny addict. Formulating spots of fragile despair easing over empty skies. Believe in practical freedom for the days go by without special remark. The sunlight of temptation highlighting the vast plains of continental harmony. Flowing scenes through the small window, rolling towards the preposterous tomorrow. Easing pain over golden bridges cast over bays like craftwork. I am unable to find pertinence in any moment that existed today not even the few dollars put toward juvenile crime prevention programs. The stress caused by shrieking women who obviously are menopausing and blame their children and all other juveniles for the burning pain in her uterus as well as her bulging forehead. Get the fuck off my line she says with no remorse or sympathy for the poor hack on the other end of the phone who continually feels more of a hypocrit everyday. With each passing day and each drive through gray east county fuels my desire to pull a "Ghost World". Or for those who don't watch indy movies then I have the secret desire to disappear completely without a word of notice to anyone. I look forward with feverish anticipation to this historical day. School feels continously more like a prison when I look around and see nothing but ignorant republicans who want to lock me in jail. Hypocrit fucks who support Bush because he is irish while moments before the hypocrit spoke to me about UNITY. People who don't understand the basic concept that millions of people have died from religious persecution and don't value the seperation between church and state. Everything I view contains the silent mark of de-evolution even including myself. I'm living without making a sound, buried eternally useless in my struggle to obtain and control responsibility, yet I find nothing but more bills to pay and more bullshit to be raked. Either way I should finish my research paper, vocabulary packet, give a cursory glance through math study guides and lay down for the few moments of peace I have before the day breaks and it comes rushing at me again. The ultimate test is always your own serenity. (Comment on this)
Sunday, January 9th, 2005
8:28 pm	To make God laugh tell him your plans. But it is quite alright as I will laugh with bitter remorse at the irony of it all. I'm sorry for not updating lately but right now I need my cigarette under the rain, I need my solitude and my security from these thoughts that will arise if I allow my fingers to glide along this keyboard. Well God may laugh but I still have my dreams and with any luck the lingering hope will provide warmth until the storms collide in torrential rains until dispersing into sunshine that will light the path I will soon walk down. Plans aside and confidence ahead. Pale Blue Eyes fixed ahead instead of these needless conclusions. In conclusion. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, December 16th, 2004
3:15 pm	Shelter from the Wind and currents of change it carries. For anyone who has not known my intent and/or hasn't heard me complain about this already. Long ago I realized the silent pact I held with my homeschool teacher had dissipated. The silent pact was in condensed form; I would do the work with cannibus induced fervors and fulfill it brilliantly. Mrs. Webb in turn was supposed to encourage me to stop concentrated on the game, business and a well developed personal life and to concern on endless days spent at a desk wallowing away in substandard economics, english, cigararettes, art history and the like. By toiling away in my haven in the hills on these rudimentary books she would mark A's. Therefore raising my already "half-decent always had potential, disciplinary record, pot smoking could have been Graduating in Honors..... and the likely nonsense" to a 4.0, an objective that has been pushed upon me for four years. Furthermore this pact became befallen on both our parts. Logically, I should have reacted with more effort. I should have taken the SATS but there has been increasingly more book studying in homeschool than the old usual routine of school; Challenging and Belittling teachers, causing chaos with my fellow "shackled students", doing blow in the bathroom, ditching with punks to smoke pot under a bridge, Always being the slack off who somehow pulled good grades, flirting with the pretty girls and these type of things. I digress, in point I was burned out of reading text books (the SAT book is quite long) and for the passage of Application dates? I was too engrossed in Kesey and Kerouac and spouts and bursts of neurons associated with introspection. In addition, remnants of some sort of hipster status with the drugs, the deep conversations and of course... the pretty girls. Mrs. Webb fell through in her contract because of God. Fate or anything else you can find to blame for a brain tumor. After continual visits to the school to find nothing but sad-faced librarians pronouncing "She's tired... was here not but twenty minutes ago". Another few weeks wasted away in my awkward life and I make another appointment. My mother dissapointed me by failing miserably at causing chaos or simple vengeance. I nodded shamefully at her lack of invention or progress in something that consistently irritates her. But enough about that, I spent the ride looking through the window and analyzing the mountain landscape. After a horrible omelet at a diner in Descanso we arrived at the school. A simplistic building with an outer book storage with an adourned plaque. Once again Mrs. Webb was not there but the librarian viewed her morning sunrise and felt inclined to actually help. She arranged for us to drive to her house, I felt increasing dread as we winded through the mountains and cattle plains. If this lady dies from this illness her sad eyes will haunt me forever(as well as those of my probation officer's). I imagined the fateful smell of death and the sound of respirators as she rasped out the last remnants of my high school career. Instead I was greeted by a house full of "knick knacks" with a solid christmas theme and sweet home made fudge. I smiled at her curiously wondering about her health. She surprisingly seemed well and we discussed my plans to finish HS by obtaining double credits from a community college. I had taken a class the year before in the same manner. Left and worked, one must find substantial metaphors in work or else it seems like lost hours. I think took an assessment test at the community college. I arrived early to a random assortment of students standing outisde in the cold. I think I chain smoked and flicked a lighter through my fingers. The teacher arrived in a horrible mood and began to annoy the students. Tip to the teach: if your having a bad day and act crabby it will just get worse. As you will soon see. I sat in about the middle and slid back in my chair slowly searching my pocket for the availability of the xanax if this school function became too much like prison. But back to the teacher of black haired fervor, she lectured a cute asian girl to my left who then gave me a look and whispered a joke. It had been in a long time since I'd been in the position but it was one I was quite adept at. Rebellion, to demean a deliberator of great power such as authority to coincidentally make yourself seem powerful, masculine, cool. She smiled and whispered something else I flicked a smile and casually flirted until the test came. Pills and Girls. But to the test, I somehow (to be modest) Aced the tests and now have a choice of classes I can enroll in. Community College. The most important reason I'm going is to finish HS credits but if I end up doing the two year transfer it will seem as if any of the effort I utilized in highschool was a waste. Questions will arrise such as why wasn't there double the coke? seven times the truancies, 41 times more the referrals, 48 times the girls, thirty two times the random acts of freedom. Either way applications are late the SATS are not done and it seems Cuyamaca it is. I'm not looking at it as a time of despair and espressos but more likely the same shit different day. Women and Wine and Southern California. Even mentioning the fact I live in california conjures many thoughts but I digress and I digress again. Should I take Intermediate Algebra or INT-ALGEBRA-BUS,MATH,SCI&ENGR for science majors. I tested into higher classes in highschool and then when I should of been taking something at least passable in the lax junior year. I was sitting in pre-calculus strongly desiring to ditch and blow coke since I was so burned out on the "bullshit". But then do I even want to be at this school for very long? I took one class here and found comfort in the idiocy of a beautiful girl who spoke of nothing but self-improvement. The glorious type of self-improvement painting nails and make-overs. Or the laughing black man who let me bum menthols off him when I was desperate. We told jokes no one else understood. Or from the mysterious girl across the street at the coffee shop. I won't make such a bold statement and say that the rest were all bastards but ehhhhh.. fuck em. I could now speak of gossip and teenage politics and all that bullshit but I won't. I could also speak of last weekend but in recounting the situation I'll most certainly avoid the overhanging socio-cultural thoughts. Mexico, eyes fixed on a life she would never have, a mother of three sat on the side of a walk-way bridge. She ignored the cries of her infant who was most certainly bellowing out infantile operas of pain, misery and poverty. It is also sickenly amazing the service poverty brings; at any time gum can be purchased from the wandering children, waiters rush to you on the street and lead you to VIP sections. And as I have also pointed out wherever you walk you have your friendly beggars. People who for some unknown reason fell off God's plan. Current Music: Don't tell me there's no hope at all (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, December 2nd, 2004
3:51 pm	First hand misinterpreted persepectives I was sitting outside taking methodic drags from my cigarette as I watched a truck drive back and forth my driveway. Of course the road is no longer my driveway as some suburban family bought the adjoined acres. Thinking about how the gate is a necessity from the random bastards coming across my house. As my dogs barked and howled I also thought about some way to dissuade my dogs from attacking any of these random people. The truck stopped and said hello. I walked forward observing this strange visitor as he came forward pronouncing his intent to sell me chicken and beef. As my dogs came forward to this man I silently hoped he wasn't carrying a slab of meat to show me. Let alone have legs and wings hidden in his jacket like a new york calvin clone seller. Thankfully he only asked for a light and prodded me to buy his carcasses I smiled slightly and said I was a vegetarian. This encounter along with hearing the Dresden Dolls song "Coin-operated boy" conjured the memory of their show. After death threats and unnecessary drama let alone alienation we went to the show. Chris appeared out of the bushes and we went to smoke. Most likely the shadiest place ever as we stood along the street as volleys of cars veered along the illuminated streets. The glow from the baseball field resounded along the faces of the ones at watch. One cop and an interested soccer mom was all that plagued the situation. Came into the show as Ditty Pop was finishing their set. I immediately liked them for the fact the lead singer was a cute girl who spoke absentmindedly and sang cute folk songs. We all stood in a line with our arms crossed desperately trying to stay out of the scene. Painted doll girls standing hypnotically on picnic tables. Vibrant yuppies who had indulged in too much beer and body paint. In addition, a girl I used to date rather than the anticipated girl I want to date. She stood with her boyfriend a few crowds away but I knew she told him as he stared me down. I looked through him holding onto my grim poker face but in reality I was dismayed that I stood with arms crossed and opinions spared instead of with an energetic girl who was obviously enthusiastic about seeing the Dresden dolls play. The second band fucking sucked. On stage they didn't have any roots rock rebel. At first they came out when I was standing close to right stage. The singer was under a neon green light while he sat down and belted out a calm smashing pumpkins type song with a chorus something with a bag of nails. After this the light turned off and they jumped around singing songs that strangely conveyed Alice and Chains, weird screams and some voodoo Jim morrison waves from the lead singer. I appreciated the corrupt news song because I always find myself with a Time magazine in my lap. Either way before I knew it the place was crowded with extras from the bar and I couldn't get any closer to the band I actually wanted to see. The dresden dolls played well but we left soon after. I rode with Jay as we drove out to an east county party. As soon as we arrived I automatically knew I had been there before but with an abundance of self-deprecating introspection at the show I decided to drink. It was a rather small party and quite lame if I hadn't been so jolly drunk and excitedly talking to Justin about our fight against the system. Or talking randomly without the social inhibitions I usually demand upon myself. Eventually the wine, vodka and fruit (fucking bros) was all gone so I went to a gas station with Greg and someone. There I saw the deliverer of the earlier threats but we both had stiff drink below our belts so we talked of frienship and peace. But in reality these kind words were almost certainly the liquor talking. Driving back I began thinking of the strange metaphor of alienation in all of this. I continued to smoke everyone out until three in the morning when a girl made a snide comment. I left to stand on the porch overlooking what must be presumed was El Cajon. I came to realize I could quite possibly be acting like an asshole. I came back inside to sit down but occassionaly mumble into my chest. Somehow through my fault or her own we began debating vegetarianism. I will admit to using brash words like ignorant but for the most part I upheld my end of the debate. With a twitch or seizure of anger she sat upright and called me a tree hugger. "Ok first off I apologize for being confrontational but I can't sit idly by letting you call me a tree hugging left-wing elitist hack" And here came the feeble argument with her cursing and asking who the fuck invited a couple of shady boys. Even though the actual host did not care if we left or not it was much too late so by making a grand exit I said look I'm sorry but fuck you all. We then drove to del mar and back while it rained. I'm a bit tired from recapping all of that so I'm going to smoke a cigarette and come back to sum up the underlying form as I saw it. In a sense of truth the unknown girl is right. It is a matter of alienation. This attempt to classify and define my life with classic hierarchys has proven to be faulty if not interesting. In a shallow conjunction between labels and the hierarchy folds under the pressure. I am a left-wing elitist hack. I am not a liberal but more of an idealistic anarchist. Applying labels to my life has resulted in nothing but dissapointment so therefore from labels we have the misconstrued ideals that set these perspectives in peoples eyes. Ideals are renown for their resistance against extreme forms of rational thought. In it's ambiguity and my strong morals this way of definition actually results in appreciation for my life. I can also break down the correlations between events and my thoughts upon the situation. Experiences and if that is not fulfilling than life has not been a trip. And a trip it has been indeed. I'd give you my heart if you gave me the truth (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 16th, 2004
3:39 pm	My First Class Ticket to Hell So it is clear to be now that I am an athiest. The earth is a cold and dead place. Even when I keep repeating.. Everything Will Be Alright I know it's futile. What the fuck is alright? NOTHING. Jesus got off easy, one day on the cross and an eternity of hallelujahs and people begging on their knees. From the religious right who consistently engulf resources in the name of God coming down and fixing our problems when things get tooooo bad, if the Ice Caps melt god will step out from behind his shroud to stop it. God will come and convince the heathens to stop "hating us for our freedom". What about civilian casualties, starving children, the diseases and war, neighbors killing neighbors, Husbands butchering their wives with no sanctuary but the bottom of the ocean. Fuck you, do you know how many deaths your rules and your test has caused? What the hell gives you the right to test us? You created us? You fed and clothed us? No God is an unfaithful trickster with such a sick sense of humor Rodney Dangerfield is rolling in his grave.... (he died right?) On the opposite spectrum what is good about the world? Art and Love? Why is it that all artists are depressed and love doesn't last more than a few fucks. Religion gives people meaning? It may all end and what will you do do shepherd us into paradise? Does it even exist or is it some organization with a mandate from heaven just seeking power and political gain. God isn't on our side or theirs, he abandoned us long before the bible was even written. Come down and bring your wrath or your warm embrace because hope has died and your servants are child molestors. I can't see your plan because it is inconcievable to trash like me because you are so omnipotent and wise that mortals cannot bear to see the big picture? Who is this helping? in what way is the right thing being done? and it's all a perspective of different clashing religions. NO I don't believe in Jesus Christ my mother died of cancer when I was five. But he blessed us with three hundred channels on television. A hierarchy of men imposing beliefs on others because tis what God wanted. Everything in it's right place. Cold and Subdued. Don't lie to me about heaven and eternity with my hand in yours for we've already seen the deep pit of your love. From the babes you drown to the wars you start you are one SICK MOTHERFUCKER and if you've been helping me my entire life than fucking stop because you or Pastor Steve or your angels haven't done a damn thing for me. But this isn't about me because I know that many people, places, things, animals, ideas, spirituality have been butchered by your daily testing. See how much we'll take see if we'll move on see if we'll survive. If I get to heaven you better hope I hold my fist back from striking you across the chin, the breast, the eigth leg or the center of your energy vortex and explain these things because right now you have a deserter amongst your midst just asking for a divine helping hand or some answers. I'll never find what I'm looking for until the day I die. And then will you reach down and guide me through the tunnel until I am blessed by the light? No I'll lose my way in yet another test and end up in hell and you know what it is? THIS COLD DEAD PLACE CALLED EARTH. MOTHERFUCKER. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 2nd, 2004
12:43 pm	I'm sick of spending these lonely nights training myself not to care. This weekend was supposed to be documented for analytical purposes in finding true meaning in what it is I'm doing with my life. Of course journalistic integrity was lost with alcohol and sleep deprivation. I can't recall the moments of introspection and conviction but I'll more or less post about the weekend. For the majority of the Thursday I listened to music and deliberated the greatest influence on music. Considering this is my opinion and just about all of my music is influenced by Rock and Roll we'll start there. Rock and roll was an off-shoot of rhythm and blues so we find ourselves with soulful voices aged finely by whiskey with guitar picking and rhythmic drums. Basically rhythm and blues was created by African Americans singing about heartache and distress. So we have slavery and other racial tensions creating the "blue" emotions so all in all the diffusion of culture brought on by the importation of people and the creation of the guitar began what is now referred to as Rock and Roll. Brett eventually picked me up and I had the strangest experience buying alcohol ever. We were standing in front of seven-eleven with Debber, an ex-stripper and a strange man with an even stranger name, Svector! Is how he introduced himself. He excitedly jumped about and made strange comments as Brett and I listened to this stripper give us romantic advice. All I can really remember is her telling us to always let your girl catch you looking at other women every once in a while, not too much but just enough so you can say "Nahh Babe it's youuuu" and to show power and this somehow attracts women to the challenge of control.. Or something, I don't really know what the hell she was talking about. Brett at one point said something along the lines of her being mean and everyone should be nice and not play those mind games. Heartbreak kid? She expressed with a curt smile and arched (and designed) eyebrows so we bought beer and gave a ride to Debber and Svector out into Deer Horn Valley. I sat in the back with Svector and smoked a bowl; he told me strange stories of river trips and everclear. Friday we probably went to lunch and the went to Granite Hills to meet up with some people. That school is undeniably trashy. We stood around in the parking lot talking but I immediately got bored and started playing the underground or punk and sitting in the car. We went to fashion valley to check some make-up store and then proceed to wait around for no apparent reason. Brett and I most likely spoke of depressing malls and wasted minutes. I rode with Danielle and Austin.. Mike? And we smoked a bowl or two and listened to really bad music and ended up at IN&Out, the one across from the 8 and the wall painting of the butcher about to imbed a hatchet into a bloody chunk of meat. I now officially hate In&Out, we sat around and the girls talked about sex and old boyfriends while I lay down and tried to keep depressing thoughts from surfacing. After MORE time in a fucking parking lot we break up with the East County kids and meet up with Alex and Allison for the Interpol show. Alex and I spoke of placement and correlations in life using metaphors acquired from the brick wall. The opening band was good so I threw in with Brett on a cd. The secret machines were alright... well good I suppose but then Interpol was setting up Sierra (Ciara?) and I tried to make it to the front. Four or five rows back and it was the best lighting I have ever seen at SOMA. Afterwards I was lost for a while and walking around with Sierra asking questions in a raspy voice. I eventually found the car and they all thought I had died so I drank a beer and we went to IN AND OUT. But it wasn't that bad. We left everyone at their respective places and went back to Brett’s where I slept on a bean bag and watched late night TV. Saturday we were supposed to go to the swap meet but we slept restlessly in hung-over deliriums. Strange dreams. So with the swap meet idea scrapped we picked up Brett's paycheck and saw Jay so we sat around in a PARKING LOT smoking cigarettes and swapping stories. We then went to Fuddruckers where the cashier was the most random person I thought I would never see again. Mallory, I’ve known that girl since kindergarten, all I remember is she talked or lied non-stop and eventually catastrophe hit the family and they moved to La Mesa. It was weird because I was stoned and couldn't think of anything to say other than bullshit "How are you?" The meal was alright, I don't really remember. Then James and Mike.. Yeah that one was mike, the one from Friday was Austin.. Left and we went Halloween shopping but accomplished nothing. Brittany and Erin laughed for more than twenty minutes at a "wacky" mirror, the ones in the house of mirrors that distort your body shape. Giggles and strained "Fattys" echoing through the kid section. Eventually we left and did something and eventually went to heathers. It was cool because I saw heather but all of her sisters friends made fun of us because they were older, unoriginal and couldn't think of anything else to say to make themselves seem cooler in front of the attractive girls. I drank tequila, made small talk and watched girls dressed in scandalous costumes. Allison got drunk and a few people stopped by but we left to smoke hookah and chill. Sunday we slept in again and missed the tailgate parties, arrived at the Raiders vs. Chargers game late and had to walk over two miles to get to the damn park. Great seats and I suppose it was invigorating to watch the Chargers win for once. I am done with major sporting events though, walking back to the car a large amount of dumbfucks screamed ludicrous remarks about Raiders... Aren't there more requirements of a great community than just a sporting team? Environment, Policies, anything else for a source of pride than romanesque gladiator fights. We shopped for a bit and chilled, eventually we went to the TRAP of Alpine for trick or treating, drinking and laughter. Except every single plan fell through. We were too late for trick or treating but we made an attempt but it was just me wandering around semi-tripping but not really that interested or relaxed to have a great time. Everyone was bored and dissatisfied and no one made an attempt to liven the situation so we went to a mexican food place where Brett was drunk and slept on the table and I watched as cups vibrated and made small talk. It was one of the worst halloweens because absolutely no one was the lively jokester. Either way Brett seemed pretty drunk so he drove to gas station and passed out in the back of his car. I sat for hours trying to sober up and eventually bought coffee and left on the 8. It was kind of hard because my vision was blurry and once I missed the connection to the 94 I decided to immediately get off the freeway. I chilled in Grossmont smoking cigarettes, talking to random insomniacs and listened to Trevor's Belle and Sebastian CDS and a lot of his Bright Eyes. Because this entry has gone on long enough and I still have to talk about the election I'll sum it up. I bought the sunday paper and smoked mad cigarettes and waited for brett to wake up which was like six hours. So I eventually sobered up enough to get to Dennys and drink mad coffee and read the paper. I never thought I would be the bitter man at the bar of a diner thinking about the whole world "Going to hell". This could use immense detail but I'll let you all know staying up all night listening Bright Eyes in a dark and desolate town is incredibly depressing. Brett woke up as I came out of Dennys past four in the morning and past five cups. We spoke of random things and eventually slept. Election eh? I will become one of the most depressed men in the world if Bush wins. I might talk about it later considering I'm home and alone with nothing to do but read up on Propositions and drink hot tea. Current Mood: complacent (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 26th, 2004
2:17 pm	A tempest of dissatisfaction It's slightly sad that all I ever think about these days is politics. I no longer philosophize or ponder about anything in particular, it all consists of the daily dreads. At least I am still reading and I rather enjoy my book but for the majority of today I was working on economics. Whenever I fuck around this website I always find the strangest people I thought would never succumb to this haven for depression and valueless self-worth. Then comes the question if I should expand my friends list to invite these people on some sort of sharing of burdens and thoughts. But then I rather like to think of this as a defenseless haven. I could sum the weekend up in about one quote. "Hey Eddie did we have a good time this weekend?" -Keith "I don't know man, we were just (piss) drunk so I don't know if it was a fun, we must have had a good time though" -Eddie "Most likely"-Keith Very true. I spent the majority of the weekend either in a room or on a porch incapacitated as various people I thought I would never see again stepped in and out of my consciousness. Of course I was too inebriated to speak of old times. At least Joseph and I played pool for a couple of hours as everyone else watched The Jackal. Jack Black should always write his own material. Tom is coming back into town sometime this week so him and I will most likely enjoy good times even if they are dependent on some sort of substance. This weekend will be great and I'm planning on not relying on a rather large bottle of liquor to accomplish this. Yesterday was supposed to be the definition of a productive day but in all reality I didn't accomplish anything. It is also depressing that I have ceased to write any poetic justice I think this whole thing has become as dry as James Bond's martinis. Current Mood: blank Current Music: Interpol - NYC (Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 19th, 2004
11:51 am	Rainy Day Woe. I don't know if it is because of the weather, my health, my mother is back in all her "helpful" criticism or that I haven't chilled with my cocky friends lately but Ive been feeling a bit blue. But enough of that here are various plans. Work a deadend job with the caretaking bit until I can afford rent, then move out to a little place called Northpark. The neighborhood is a lot better than years back when I was anywhere from 7-12 and almost getting jumped. Ok so I'd stay in San Diego which would mean surfing, partying and going to shows while attending a dis-satisfactory place called cuyamaca or Masseuse school (because it'd be a dank skill), or culinary school (because it would be a dank skill) or get EMT training to learn the basics of medicines (dank to say the least) and work a job that would pay over fifteen an hour. Study aggressively for the SATS, continue to elevate my GPA then book it to some state school like Humboldt. In this time, work a dead-end job chill and go to a lot of shows. For political reasons drop the SATS like a bad habit and just relax the rest of the year until attending Mammoth Community College in the fall. Fuck around for a while with the San Diego plan but stay in highschool for a little while longer to raise my GPA to around 4. and run a lot of volunteer programs. Basically cover up the dirty excuses I made in my earlier years of highscool so I become the perfect candidate for some better schools. I'll just say Berkeley as an example. Or work a dead-end job, provide friends with valuable herbology services and save it all then move to Europe in the summer. Sticks and Stones will never hurt me for I don't smoke these, but the damn trees I toke will come back to get me. Current Mood: sporadic coughing Current Music: Clash City Rockers - The Clash (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, October 16th, 2004
8:30 am	Of course I'm down for Europe but I can't comment on anyones Journal. Of course I should of updated after thursday then just left this thing alone to draw out the weekend as fast as possible. There are those days that are sacrilegious to post about, too many days are butchered on my keyboard into small paragraphs when in all reality volumes cover time, never the thoughts of a moment. As for today, my parents went out of town.... again. They went up to Del Mar so I smiled said have a good time but thought about how that sounded sooooo much better than my damn (never) planned friday. Jerry came over and from just saying that you know how outerworldy I would soon become (sorry for the vague words but whenever I awake this early still a bit drunk I'm always paranoid of the patriot act). At first I was wired on this honey oil and kept wandering around thinking about things that needed to be found then searching incessantly for them, then walking back into the room and talk excitedly to jerry. Fuck it I'll skip the details because I can't remember the specifics of conversation so I'll just say; It has come to the point where I thoroughly enjoy talking with my friends especially when host mode kicked in when I invited over some neighbors to chill. I kept it up with vodka after vodka but eventually I passed out on my table with a hope I wouldn't wake up to walk around exclaiming that I was the hipster king; motherfuckers. Or any such frivolous or damaging things, to comment on that Tyler called me with dead-set plans to (he used the expression) "nip becoming a hipster in the bud". Of course I don't label myself of anything (Jerry and I spoke about dumbfucks freely dispensing labels, (not to say tyler is a dumbfuck)) and his plan for my shock treatment was getting drunk and listening to good punk, of course I'm down, I'm going to go play the subhumans- The day the country died.. again... and smoke a bowl, we'll see if I annoyed jerry if he gives me a ride into town or not.. Peace, is contentment the perfect drug? Current Mood: mischievous Current Music: How can you not like the Pixies? (Comment on this)
Friday, October 15th, 2004
3:16 pm	"Action: I won, Reaction: You can NEVER take that away from me" -Henri Young, a man who has joined Keith's Heroes. Current Music: Old Vinyl and of course THE DAY THE COUNTRY DIED (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, October 14th, 2004
2:33 am	Let me be lost in your ROCK AND ROLL By the way if you ever need assurance that your life is meaningful try taking a piss outside (semi) suburbia and listen to the dogs howl their dissaproval. Current Mood: creative (Comment on this)
1:54 am	Shut the fuck up and Smile Yoooooooooooooooooooooo Livejournal. I don't really know about anything anymore, I've been clinging to my pathetic excuses for plans for my life. Those who cannot do can teach so I'll wind up a burned out philosophy teacher with balding hair and no wife. who gives a fuck I'll atleast have a porch, a three thousand dollar bong and some inventive thought. I'll continue to publish bullshit to redeem my soul but all I really want is to get lost in all tha rock and roll. Smile incessantly through the bullshit, I'll try and cheer you up tomorrow bro. Hmmm. I don't know what else to say except I most likely will never go to the desert but I will go up to davis to sell pills to hipster kids looking for the most out of their eighteen dollar a ticket shows. Atleast I will see Interpol super stoned and smile for this is life and we know time. I should read One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest again.... I should really finish Big Sur then hit One Thousand years of Solitude like a home run hitter, tomorrow should be fairly dank. Hopefully I won't need a root canal, I should brush my teeth and wash my face more. Perhaps I should read the Metrosexuals Guide to Life in hopes of breaching the gap between the apathetic sage and the meticulous selfish bastd. Hmm.... anything else to say? I should sleep but who gives a fuck because life is mostly understood in after midnight drunken hazes not to say brett is drunk.. He is sober as a duck, I don't know where that saying came from but I'm always a damn hypocrit and followerr. To finiosh the last post tht I didn't wan t to at the time. Loren came over and talked about how I'm always under control which just added to the beneficial wisdom gained by tripping balls. Fuck you all I'm one wise son of a bitch and I'll make it rhough. I'm kind of rambling but my MOM came home but it was fine, atleast I have someone to bash Bush with and someone to tell me I'm special. And thank God she hasn't found the bar yet, I need to re-up on dark liquor because its all gone excpet the crazy liquers and clear liquor (ancient gin and vodka). I've been thinking of buying Courvossier but I know I'll drink it within days and spend way too much money on expenseive liquor. Tomoroow is Steele Canyon Dessert night which will hopefully end up with a few more numbers in Keith's dwindling possible date phone book. Fuck I'm rambling buyt who cares. HmmM I watched a bit of the debates then went to rancho to only make small talk then dash away. Smoke is definetly a hazardous thing, I really want a girlfriend or at least a prospect so I can include myslef in such things as the Haunted Hotel but I should just be content with stoned banter. Fuck but atleast I've gained some nostaglic wisdom from those damn psycobin mushrooms. Fucking Fungi. I want to go to mexico to get drunk and wave the almighty american bill at strippers to convey a good time. This weekend will most likely consist of being stoned in proctor valley or shrooming with the BEAT. Yoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo I love you all, peace. Current Mood: crazy Current Music: Silence except for occasional Thought (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, October 11th, 2004
2:16 pm	My last entry was bitter and the weekend deserves more than that so here it is, the weekend update. Friday I paced around my house listening to the Subhumans really loud (like I always do). And like the usual friday I kept my door open to invite the San Diego weekend to come (My front door looks all the way out of the valley into downtown). I remember thinking about abortion and the energy crisis, these bitter thoughts continued through the debates until Brett picked me up and we met Erin and Brittany at TGIF. They were waiting for tommy and I made jokes and talked about the many fucked up (so to speak) things in the world, diamond mines for example. At one point I said that I had a negative or critique of everything. What can I say, it's a dying world. Either way Tommy eventually came and we stood in the parking lot popping Xanax and talking. Tommy was tired from work or something so he left and we went to a party out in Proctor Valley. Met Lauren there and she gave me an enthusiastic hug, Diego and Carlos was with her. The party was basically a bro party with a lot of people I vaguely knew from back in the day, made small talk and smoked a bowl. Apparently later a fight would break out, a shot would be fired and large Indians would come with sledgehammers. But don't ask me if that is really true because we left to go to a party in that gated community Monarch Ridge. It was thrown by the (ex?)drummer from Off By One, a band that thought they were hipster kings of Valhalla when I was a freshman. The guy was nice, drunk and in host mode. The population of the kegger consisted of twenty-something year olds ranging from Pop Punkers to Bros. I drank some beer, smoked a bowl and talked politics with some girl. Erin drove brittany home and since Brett dislikes parties and hates beer we left and basically went home. Apparently my dad came home and brought me a salad that I voraciously ate and continued to repeat myself. Realizing I was drunk and the conversation was going nowhere my father shook his head and slept. I myself don't remember passing out in my bed but I awoke at about six to write a bitter post. I continued to do chores for most of the morning. Drove in and ate mexican food with my dad while talking politics. My dad gave me a ride and I met up with Brett and we picked up this guy who I'd (vaguely)known from Steele Canyon and brought him to Jimmys house to collect money and use his scale. Jimmy ruled me in the hip to the hop game Def Jam 2 while Brett made the deal. We left and waited around in a parking lot for the girls, listening to sublime and chatting idly about various things. We then all drove to my house where we weighed out the shit and ate our selected drugs. It hit Erin first and she seemed happy and continued to laugh, we went for a walk but Erin ran off and Brittany followed. Brett and I strided towards the light but eventually got sidetracked and headed back. I remember feeling ectstatic and just content with life for it is life. Sadness or Pain is enjoyable because we are alive. Its hard to explain except in just simplistic euphoria. From here we tripped balls, Tossed around in my waterbed for hours listening to music and hallucinating. I remember watching the sunset and watching god grasp the sun and pull it beyond the horizon. I can't even describe the trip because I don't really remember it, circles, paul basta and the 50's. Pyschedelic 3-D movie theaters and soda fountains. ....hmm I don't really feel like finishing this, in fact I just felt like deleting the whole thing but I'll post it and finish it later when I'm bored. (1 Comment |Comment on this)