January 25th, 2007
|06:10 am - just a few final poems from class.|
In the morning there is emptiness,
barren like the face of mars.
But then the sun, reflecting off the belt buckle
still looped from the night before,
blinds me for a moment.
I move like a snail, leaving a trail
of potent glue wherever I go.
The bugs are humans
in my shadow, caught running
circles around me. The bodies,
the people, the things that I touch
catapult me into the night,
all that sticks to me.
In the night I find a river,
and fall into the flow.
The stream keeps me moving,
keeps me thinking, I am clean.
Scraped like the bodies off
cement, I am just bare again.
|06:02 am - glued rocks and sand paper.|
I am tinsel, I am gold.
I am your most regal dream.
I am the lust that makes
you thirst for a king.
The fat men I’ve freed
from day to day mundane,
like Henry VII or Louis XIV.
Oh, the places they’ve seen
are all because of me.
Wars have been fought,
to harness what I can do.
Men have lost their lives,
thousands at a time,
so the man with a crown
can wallow with pride.
I think it’s a mockery to die
for a cause bittersweet;
the intangible of a metallic stone,
that will shine only as long as it is flooded with light.
I am the plastic on your brother’s head.
He stands atop the jungle gym
with a towel around his neck, and I am his voice.
Lost in commanding orders, he forgets
this is all just pretend.
His dream floats higher, to the top
of a lookout tower. His eyes gaze
the land he owns, and the people he controls.
Its all just make believe, but I am there
as the catalyst he conceives.
December 20th, 2006
|04:19 pm - a dead street is a safe street|
We were a pack of wolves; the rain fell on us.
Soaking wet, roaming empty streets we hunted.
Not well-dressed man, or domesticated dogs,
but scrounging rats, who would crawl in your homes
at night and eat the skin off your face.
There was a subtle honor in this. The people
never thanked us for our work; they ran
with fear. We kept the streets clean
of subterfuge and deceit. We were the honest
killers kept alive, knowing we were the best
at what we did. The fuel of our pride, and the flaw
that kept us sane.
Where were you while we reigned? Asleep,
in your beds; you forgot the rats existed.
A new pest was breeding near your homes.
The wolves. The wild animals that lived
lives of shame. Our work wasn’t complete,
but we were misapprehended. It was time
for a new predator to reign.
The bears of the forest ate us alive.
December 8th, 2006
|03:35 pm - crazy, crazy night|
Thursday 7pm-i realize my entire Business valuation paper, what the whole class was on is due at midnight (or around 8 am)
Thursday 8pm-start my 4 page stat paper (which was all i planned to do)
Thursday 1015pm-finish paper
Thursday 1030pm-head towards library to find copy of business valuation paper to use as "guide." Attempt to steal it, but it has a bar code and the alarm goes off. Attempt to photo copy it, but I need money on my tcnj-get it card.
Thursday 11pm-head back towards my townhouse defeated. stop to get food at TW.
Thursday 11:30pm-John saves me and sends me his paper.
Friday 12am-start business valuation paper(Johns was 9 pages single spaced)
Friday 915am-finish business valuation paper.
Friday 915am-sit and relax for a few brief moments.
Friday 930am-on my way to the business building to print all 13 pages 1.5 spaced, and the other 50 pages of information and stuff.
Friday 10am-realize that the printers in the business building are not working.
Friday 1015am-realize there are no available computers in Bliss hall.
Friday 1030am-find a computer in the social sciences building.
Friday 1035am-begin battle with slow computer and network to print out all my crap and make last minute adjustments.
Friday 1215pm-finish printing the project and assemble it nicely in a black notebook.
Friday 1230 pm-notice sign on Dr patricks door: "I was here until 9am, your project is late."
Friday 1231pm-more defeat.
Friday 1245pm-find a computer in bliss hall to do normal stat homework.
Friday 130pm-find out mg got an apartment in the brooklyn, sweet
Friday 135pm-hand stat hw in, in business building.
Friday 140pm-see dr patrick in office, make crack about how much will be taken off for being late...he laughs and informs me to leave.
Friday 2pm-eat tuna salad wrap that i bought last night.
Friday 230pm(NOW)-write stupid lj entry about my fucked night.
Friday 3pm-leave for band practice.
BAND PRACTICE----->PARTY @ TCNJ.
NEVER STOP MOVING BABY, NEVER STOP.
April 28th, 2006
the boards on the floor
are ignored by feet
they house something more
sounds and rounds
of wire and screams.
and when its released
you all will declare
"nobody ever bothered to care."
pre-pro next weekend. this could be the start of something.
Current Mood: recumbent
April 12th, 2006
|12:10 am - for those that love to read a lot.|
You caress the stars with your pinky, jostling them in their fixed position. You try to flick the moon so it hurdles into space, but gravity has its hold like a general over his squad; it springs back into orbit around the blue ball you wish your hand was big enough to palm. The heat of the sun starts to sizzle, its embers are light years away but its heat is touching your exposed skin. Then you are frying eggs in your boxers. A thousand pounds weigh on your shoulders; your arms in perfect balance with each other, but nearly impossible to move. The problem with cooking eggs is that once they have touched the heat and started to cook you can’t look away or they will burn.
It’s the first day and already only 63 hours remain. You have three days to change the world, but have slept away the first 9. The eggs are tasteless without salt or pepper; you crave a different flavor, one the small buds on your tongue cannot feel. A 1986 Mercedes 420 SEL is loaded with 2 semi-automatic weapons and enough ammo to last a soldier an entire war. The gas pedal is at the floor and you swerve in between 18 wheelers; the horns and screams are drowned out by your inner dialogue. 3 Miles until the exit, then we get off and make a right; there are two banks on that street and a third and fourth within a mile. You park outside of 1st national, the engine is still running and the smell of the diesel is harsh to breathe. Everything you’ve got, in the case now! You are yelling. No games, no cops, and none of that exploding money bullshit. The first bank takes 8 minutes, in and out you say to yourself. The second and third are just as quick. In your backseat are 3 cases filled with hundreds and fiftys, the total is just under $600,000. You are a dentist and the 4th bank is a child who needs a route canal. They do not cooperate and trip the silent alarm. Fuck. You leave with under 75 grand.
You’ve been driving for the last 5 hours, your money is gone and you have a new car. You have been pushing west on the PA Turnpike, straight towards the sun until it falls below the horizon. In New York before you bought a used Cadillac to confuse the cops who were sure to be on your tail soon, you dropped off the money, a quick estimate put the total somewhere around $650-$675 thousand, at the UNICEF foundation.
Now you’re gulping energy sodas and wondering if it’s possible to get some serious uppers this late and this far from home. Pittsburgh jumps out from under the darkness and you are staring at three rivers stadium. Behind the quiet structural giant there are houses on top of cliffs and steel boxes attached to cables moving silently down the mountain into the river. It is dead here. 48 hours are left. If you drive straight through the night you’ll be in Chicago by morning, just when the banks are starting to open.
The sun is in your rearview; you are in a foot race with the ball of fire and it’s about to lap you again. The first bank you see is empty except for 2 employees opening up the doors. You’re right behind them pushing them inside with your weapon. These two are more scared than the others, and because of that they do everything you say. Open the vault, you ask for all the money inside of it; everything they can find. The quicker they do this, the sooner you are gone. Yes, you’ll take the jewels too. A man at a pawn shop three blocks away takes the jewels and offers $17,000 for them; you accept and discreetly follow him to the back. Hey you’re not allowed back here, he’s shouting and before he reaches the shotgun against the wall there are two bullets in his back. You take all the money you can find. Now you’re just driving around looking for pawnshops, banks, savings and loans or anyt place that would have a large sum of money inside of their walls. You’re getting careless and leaving trails all over the place. You follow a lonely man walking out of the sears tower, his suit is easily worth more than your yearly salary as a parcel delivery person. He wears a Rolex on his left wrist, and no other jewelry. The fabulously wealthy don’t like to show off their wealth so obviously, it’s tacky and makes them targets. Your semi-automatic is against his spine and you are walking towards your car. You’ll kill his family if he doesn’t transfer his funds to your account. We can do this online; let’s go to your home. He drives while your gun is pressed against the driver’s seat. Don’t try anything stupid, you are warning him from the backseat; you will kill him and then his family.
He only transfers from two accounts, but you need to be leaving, and he’s already put $1.2 million into your savings. You immediately transfer this to the feed the children fund. If a dollar a month can feed a hundred kids, $1.2 million should feed the continent, right? The cash you have collected through the day is dropped off at the United Way of America.
There is 28 hours left, and you are in the fields just outside of Lincoln, Nebraska. You are writing your biography and everything you have been doing for the past 44 hours. This world is just the 7th ring of hell. We have the power to change it all, but we do nothing. This is the example of what one simple man can do. The motivation and determination of one mind can yield this. Imagine what the minds of everyone working together can do.
You glance at your watch. Shit, you need to leave. It’s a 22 hour drive to northern California, and that will leave just enough time for your final stop. Bill Gates has a home just outside of Sacramento where he should be tomorrow evening. You still haven’t slept in almost two days, and energy drinks taste like water.
You are speeding across route 80, somewhere in southern Wyoming. You are flying passed remote control cars, paying no attention to the yellow lines on the pavement. As you look up there are sirens in your rearview; you ignore their warning and push the gas pedal until it hits the floor. You gain ground on the officer getting lost in the traffic that is starting to form. It is to no avail, ten minutes go by and there is a helicopter overhead, glued to your spot like a hunter on its deer. You keep driving; if you keep enough speed you will run up the side of a mountain and fly right into the sky.
Cops have searched your home, your job; they know everything about you. You missed 2 cell phone payments last year, and in 3rd grade you broke your arm after falling off the monkey bars. On the kitchen table next to an empty plate they find a letter with a printed sentence: If you change the world in three days, you will change yourself.
The police know you bought the semi automatics from an online retailer; you did it legally. They followed your exact route across the country, and spoke to your only living relative, your mother. She had less of an idea than the cops as to why you would do this.
You drive towards the moons of Saturn. There might be life on one of them, you think. You are out of your car, as the moons spin by you try to catch one, but it hits your hands out of the way and there’s nothing to grab on to.
April 9th, 2006
|04:28 am - blah-biddy-blah-blah.....blah, take from this what you want.|
so i sit here looking at this blank screen, at 3:38am, and im thinking its time to produce something raw. what classifies something as raw is debateable, but for now it will mean something unpolished by reason, and untouched by deeper thought, much like what i am doing to this short introduction in order to assure a flowing, well written...something. because what else could i call this? i dont know...i am already starting to mumble and its 3 sentences in. ok.
i am bad at on the spot writings, especially when i want to say something about myself. is it that i over think, or just dont know myself well enough? I want to present myself in a way that appeals to as many as possible, while at the same time be true to what i am, and what i have been. of course, everyone desires this, some less worried about appealing to others, some more worried. some not worried at all. then i start to question what is more real, the personality that is not appealing to the many or the personality that is. it could be innate in one's own personality to be appealing, the essence of ones self could be to appeal to others. But is this natural, or a device used by our brain...real or not real it is there. Then it comes down to when this device is used...at all times, or at specific(planned) times. such as that when a person is at a social gathering they want to present their voice in a specific way, or be heard in a specific way. but we only want to be heard as ourself, because if not...what else are we? habit is what forms this self, a voice heard over and over by others eventually forms a personality including a range of tones, laughter, and character. can the device i spoke of before be implemented and used consistantly to form a personality? is the device in of itself a personality? is this device even real? and when we throw away or give up this device, how do we know its gone? and we did not just move on to a less complex more easy to understand device, a device we have more control over. we can know of ourselves on so many levels, execpt how we are going to react to new situations, you can guess how you are going to react, based on passed reactions and events. but then you are planning whats going to happen, you trying to control emotion. that takes away from life...what if the next time you drop a pen you suddenly feel the urge to cry, or the highest sense of euphoria. it may sound like a rollercoaster of emotion...but dont we wait for hours just to ride them at theme parks. maybe that would be unbearable. or maybe i am just growing bored and think of weird possibilities of strange topics and hope that one brings something new and exciting. consistancy can be a virtue, but its so god damn boring...
i mean our existence is based on change. evolution, survival of the fittest. should we just constantly be changing to best fit our environment, do we already do that? are we changing just so we are able to exist? or to exist in the best possible way? what the hell is the best possible way? after my short 19 years on this planet, ive learned one thing for sure. the best possible way can be whatever the hell you want it to be. evolution has brought us the power of reason, the ability to learn, and the ability to communicate at a level superior to all other beings yet discoverd. do with that gift what you want, but that is life. that is what allows us to grasp it, thrive in it, and simply understand that we are living it. so whos making the rules?
i just wrote whatever came, it felt good.
January 3rd, 2006
|03:23 pm - belated new years|
the new year yeilds new beginnings, new ventures, new expectations, and new life.
there is now better time than now to start.
from here, I move only forward...
and I do it with all of you.
December 18th, 2005
i was searching for old photos...and i remembered i had a bunch on photobucket. however, my account has expired which means that my photos have too. that sucks.
only two more finals then winter break!!!
i am so ready.
party last night was crazyyyyyy
i think, im coming back.
i've been gone for a while.
December 11th, 2005