i'm fine
i was on a lyrics-kick for the past few entries, but now i finally have time to sit down and think and organize all this nonsense in my head into structured words. i don't know if i even said that the right way, in the way i was thinking it in my head. i'm so tired of thinking that i can't even explain what i think cuz i don't know what i think. it's annoying. what do i believe in? it's hard to really believe in anything or anyone, when every object, living and non-living, becomes corrupted once it becomes part of our earth. maybe it's just people. i guess rocks and blades of grass aren't corrupted. yet, in a way they are... they're polluted now... but only because of us. humans do nothing good for the earth. honestly. what do we contribute? destruction of, um, everything. man is the only creature that consumes without producing. well, unless you include pollution as a "product," cuz that's all we produce. everyone should just commit suicide so the earth could be happy and healthy, and so animals could breathe in some fresh air and live without a freeway cutting through their home. i suppose this is why i believe in God.

stay with me, i'll set you free.

"hi."
"hey, what's up?"
"not much, how are you?"
"i'm fine."

fine: freaked out, insecure, neurotic, and emotional.

i need a lover.

last night i went to a bash at maddy's... had a blast. laughed. smiled. didn't think. made everyone else laugh. it was like old times, before i became tainted.

and i stumbled onto you, as you stumbled over me.

three people told me i smelled good in the past 24 hours. i wasn't even wearing any sort of cologne. i guess showers are good enough.

pennies for sale.

i went to a movie with craig tonight. we saw "the italian job." it was so awesome. it was kind of like "oceans eleven," in the sense of having a group of professional thieves working together on a "job." it really scored big with me because there wasn't any sex, unnecessary swearing, or graphic violence. i like movies that can stand alone on their plot and characters, without the bullshit to keep the audience's attention.

the rays are gone.

after the movie, we met up with danielle at big boy's for some good old fashioned love making. i mean that in the most platonic of ways. it really just consisted of danielle and craig pretend-flirting, danielle blurting out outrageous sexual comments to get reactions from me and craig (dying in laughter/embarrassment/shock), and then the two of them lecturing me on my luck with relationships. i guess it's a good thing that they care though.

maybe you need me around.

i love the song "mayonaise." the main riff makes me feel. i love so many songs. i wish i could marry a song. music doesn't forget to call you back, or get mean, or break your heart. music is loyal and ever-loving, like a dog. i'd like to marry music or a dog.

fool enough to almost be it.

all these italicized lyrics are gonna start doing a number on my fans. you're all going to become like me. you'll be hypnotized by my subliminal messages. get out while you can, before you're

cool enough to not quite see it doomed.

yay for crying!
i want to be a priority.
i want to see clearly without the aid of a contact lense.
i want to think less, and imagine more.
i want to be wanted.
i want to be 4 years old.

what a waste.

it's just a sentence. just words. not literal. anger-induced words. no need to over-analyze.
i officially feel like blowing off my head and sending you the brains.

attn:
hey all you pansy-asses who read this, how come you never say anything? i deliver the goods day in and day out - why can't you? i want comments.

stop for a second
whenever i go to the library, i always take this book out called "the meaning of life." it was put out by life magazine as a collection of photos and quotes from all sorts of different people, on what they believe is the meaning of life. and this is one of my favorite quotes from it:

(i took it right out of the book, there's spelling and punctuation errors, but that's how the person wrote it)

Why are we born was a really hard paper to write. At first for a long time I couldn't think of anything but now I think I no something to say. I think God made us each born for a different reason. He doesn't want us to do the same things so that's why he makes us all so different. If God gives you a great voice maybe he wants you to sing. Or else if God wants you to be a farmer he might give you to a family that lives on a farm so you get used to the animals and your not afraid of them. And maybe if God makes you grow up to be 7 feet tall maybe he wants you to play for the Lakers or the Celtics.

When my friend Kim died from her cansur I asked my Mom if God was going to make Kim die when she was only 6 why did he make her born at all. But my Mom said even though she was only 6 she changed people's lifes. What that means is like her brother or sister could be the siontist that discovers the cure for cansur and they decided to do that because of Kim. And like me too. I used to wonder why did God pick on me and give me cansur. Maybe it was because he wanted me to be a dr. who takes care of kids with cansur so when they say "Dr Jason, Sometimes I get so scared I'm going to die" or "you don't know how weird it is to be the only bald kid in your whole school" I can say "Oh yes I do. When I was a little boy I had cansur too. And look at all my hair now. Someday your hair will grow back too."

- Jason Gaes, twelve year-old cancer victim.

here, there, and sarcastically sensitively lonely everywhere
internet explorer needs to stop with all of the illegal operations, i can't handle how every 5 minutes it has to shut down.

someone told me to update my journal. so.... what's new with me....

i'm confused, i'm lost, i'm pained... but, i'm alive. every little thing that happens to me during the day has an impact on how i feel. i guess how i interpret those things could be skewed to some degree, but it's not anything i can consciously figure out or fix. so perhaps what i think is going on isn't really happening at all. i guess that's a pisser for us humans. with our constant questioning and fears and inability to know what other people are truly thinking or feeling, we're left to make sense of what we're without. and i was never good with puzzles. i hated the huge ones when i was a kid. the batman one my grandparents had up north was cool though. mr. allen always emphasized that the human brain is lazy and wants everything to be as easy as possible to figure out, to make organized, and above all, to make sense. but it's no wonder nothing really does make sense, because our brains are so complex and beyond understanding that even if they were to perform a simple task, it still wouldn't be simple enough to understand, so obviously mass confusion has to ensue. simple in the brain is still incomprehensible to the brain.

when i'm with people, like my family or my friends, i usually feel a little bit better. they remind me of what it's like to be happy, to goof around and enjoy it. everyone knows how wonderful it is to laugh. laughing is definitely one of my favorite things to do. of course, i would hope that's how it is for anyone who breathes.

lately i've been trying to figure things out. thinking of things i could prove or disprove, ways to experiment, that kind of silliness. maybe i shouldn't major in film. maybe i should major in psychology and minor in film. or maybe i should major in fabulousology. but i can't really worry - besides the fact that i don't want to worry, it's impossible for me to worry about something i don't even know about. something that hasn't even happened. in the past few years, i've realized i'm not good with the future. i can't fathom it as a reality. i'm better at worrying about the past and present. i guess the word "worry" doesn't really fit, so i should say that i agonize about the past and present. looking forward, i'm kind of like, whatever happens happens, leave it up to God, live my life, try to make the right decisions and hopefully things will work out well. but i'm less laid back about right now. when i think of right now, i wonder what got me here, and why i feel the way i do. i feel like i need to be doing something for someone or some purpose in order to feel alive. i'm going to change the world. *smirk*

people equate work to life. from the time we're born, life is planned out for us. and we're all the same. life doesn't start until we're out of high school, and by that time we have jobs. and life basically ends when we retire and don't have jobs and become senile and unproductive, right? so the only time we think life is even life is when we have a job. because we feel lazy when we're not working, and for some reason, feeling lazy is not feeling alive. but sitting at a desk for 9 hours a day, doing the same routine every day, every week, every year, makes us feel alive.

what i write doesn't always reflect my personal opinion; what i think doesn't even reflect my personal opinion. i've never even had a personal opinion since i left my mother's womb and entered this world. everything personal was stripped from my mind, and i became a product of all the useless information my little gray veiny sponge soaked up.

3 libras
threw you the obvious
and you flew with it on your back
a name in your recollection
down among a million same
difficult not to feel a little bit disappointed and passed over
when i look right through to see you naked but oblivious
and you don't see me
but i threw you the obvious
just to see if there's more behind the eyes of a fallen angel
eyes of a tragedy
here i am expecting just a little bit too much from the wounded
but i see
see through it all
see through
see you
cause i threw you the obvious
to see what occurs behind the eyes of a fallen angel
eyes of a tragedy
oh well
oh well
apparently nothing
apparently nothing at all
you don't see me
you don't see me at all