why do i feel so bad when a person who says they are a missionary from khazakstan that tries to help people from drug abuse and absitence before marriage etc. comes into my work and tries to sell me a pretty windchime and i refuse?
why do i feel so guilty?!!?
i only had 10 bucks on me and they were 15 and up.
the saddest part is i probably would have bought one if i had the extra 5.
i cannnnnt saaaaaay noooooooooooooo.
...isn't khazacstan the country borat was from? well... she didn't look like borat.
Vick is making his return to the NFL, and that probley all i will care about this season in the NFL. Unless stafford pimps on lions. College football ftw.
Had a terrible evening. Ran my motorcycle into a deer and skidded for about 20 feet to promptly hit the ground and flip over 3 times. Spent the rest of the night in the ER for shoulder injuries and now I have to go to my Doctor's office.
The stupid part is I was only going about 40, slowing down for a turn, and the deer couldn't have been 30 pounds. Fucker went through my windprotector and jerked the handle bars which caused my spill.
Ruined my favorite pair of jeans, my WW2 Jacket, and A ONE DOLLAR WHITE T SHIRT. Have some nasty road burns and soft tissue damage to my right shoulder.
I'll post pictures of the bike later, the right side brake pedal and lever are melted and the windshield smashed. Even the tip of the muffler on the right side melted a little bit from abrasion heat. Bike still runs and drives however, Honda built a tank in 81.
I've been up for 24 hours at this point, waiting for these painpills to kick in so I can maybe get sleep. Highlight of the day was eating a pretty good breakfast at the hospital.
She was a new mean beauty queen,
Money, drugs, magazines,
That didnt do nothing, That didnt do nothing,
They Gave Her Diamonds, Shiny Boys, City Speak, Every Joy,
That didnt do nothing, no nothing for her
You can lead a horse to water but you cant expect it to drink
Now aint that something, Now aint that something
Yeah when the world is at your gate, that wont satiate.
Why are you crying, you want for nothing at all
Dont be a fly in my Martini baby come on down
The roof is high and im not climbing tonight,
Come down and ill give you something to cry about
Fast Cars, Bougie Bars, Trial,
And Drown In The Scars
It wont do nothing, it wont do nothing
Even the best frame wont change your wet painting into,
The Mona Lisa, The Mona Lisa,
Youve got to dry your eyes baby,
I know its your party and you,
Cry if you want to, cry if you want to,
Yeah when the world is at your gate & That dont fill your plate
Why are you crying, you want for nothing at all.
Dont be a fly in my Martini baby come on down
The roof is high and im not climbing tonight,
Come down and ill give you something to cry about
"There's a way about you that just seems right surrounded by drums, and you come alive to battle it."
i understand what they meant. and yeah, maybe it was just a nice little compliment, and that is all. but maybe not. it almost seems to me as if there is something more to it. as if, in that moment, they had a lucid picture of my mind and my heart and my emotions. like they took a polaroid of my soul. and, it just so happened that - as they saw it - my soul was doing its happy dance, for lack of a better term. and it's true. most of the time when i'm playing drums, i'm happy deep down. it just feels good, and i can focus on that one solitary task (which is actually quite complex and anything but solitary), and it will be enough to distract me from whatever else is going on in my life. unless of course there's a crowd of people watching. but that's not the important part. the important aspect of this observation is that the battle - the maelstrom - that they saw in that instant, isn't happening for me anymore. i mean, it happens every time i go into the basement and jam for half an hour. but then i get done, cool down, and it's gone again. i feel the same way when i'm working on cars, or running sound, or making a recording. it's fun, exciting, exhilarating. it's a challenge for me to conquer. it's a puzzle that i find absolutely fascinating. i need to figure out how it ticks... how to fix it if it's broken... what i could do to make it work better, easier, faster, louder, stronger... you get what i'm saying. then and only then am i truly happy, truly satisfied, fully energized and motivated and ... alive.
and what i want - what i REALLY want more than anything - is to feel that passion in all aspects of my daily life. and it seems that i barely feel it at all anymore. like someone just took all of my energy away. or maybe it's there, but i can't seem to reach it when i need to. it absolutely baffles me.
okay, saying all aspects of my daily life is probably misleading. if i was that excited about taking out the trash, or doing the dishes, and did those chores with the same kind of zeal or fervor that i do in playing drums, it would be creepy and weird. and i'd probably need 12 hours of sleep every day just to maintain my energy levels. so, no i don't want it quite like that. but i want to be able to have a job that i do every day, that offers me the opportunity to have little glimmers of that passion bubble up to the surface from deep within my soul every so often. just enough to remind me of why i'm alive. of why i'm here. of why the fuck nobody's killed me yet. and get a bit of a boost from it, so i have enough energy and self-motivation to be able to get in there and kick it in the butt, like i'm supposed to.
all i know is i'm sick of being poor, i'm sick of being bored, and i'm sick of being either A) stuck at home with a chore list five miles long that i refuse to do, or B) being out and about, thinking about all the chores i have back home that i'm not doing, and about all of the money i'm spending (and not making) in the process of being out. i need something else.
"Well then, I think I may be able to help you. You see, your cat is suffering from what we vets haven't found a word for. his condition is typified by total physical inertia, absence of interest in its ambience - what we vets call "environment" - failure to respond to the conventional external stimuli; a ball of string, a nice juicy mouse, a bird. To be blunt, your cat ... is in a rut. It's the old stockbroker syndrome; angst, weltschmerz, call it what you will-"
"Moping."
"In a way, in a way. Hmm... moping, I must remember that. Well now, what can be done? Tell me sir, have you confused your cat recently?"
"...well-"
"SHH! ... no."
"Yes, well I think I can definitely say that your cat badly needs to be confused."
"What?"
"Confused! To shake it out of its state of complacency. I'm afraid, I'm not personally qualified to confuse cats, but I can recommend an extremely good service. Here is their card."
"Oh... Confuse-a-Cat Ltd..."
If someone has choice to cancel? why dont you have the choice to just never start?
So when you call up that shrink in Beverly Hills
You know the one - Dr Everything'll Be Alright
Instead of asking him how much of your time is left
Ask him how much of your mind, baby
Cause in this life
Things are much harder than in the afterworld
In this life
You're on your own
Aint that the truth?
I keep knocking at herthe gate. I should just keep walking. Something about the gate keeps my attention still.
