tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28593016399705194682012-02-16T09:09:45.264-06:00-- the depthless musings --AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.comBlogger3891100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-47076936038086687172011-12-01T00:38:00.001-06:002011-12-01T00:48:22.259-06:00

my tortured throat kept me focussed on every hurt oblivious to my hands wringing out each breath

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-3553856971740047522011-11-01T10:46:00.002-06:002011-11-01T10:47:15.574-06:00

I ran screaming into a soiled night unable to rest or stop, I bled stumbling and tripping prevented from a fall, forever falling

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-51211521599922147052011-10-26T14:59:00.003-06:002011-10-26T15:02:51.753-06:00

I sure wouldn't want your face, but I don't want mine. His would suit me just fine.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-78285701589537379052011-10-06T12:11:00.001-06:002011-10-06T12:11:19.115-06:00

slowly falling dappled blue and greens glints and sheets of yellow receding minuscule life flits past green bits chased a riot of murkiness suspended cold settles in air acquiesces to water dark and heavy settling

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-52919311097829710902011-09-26T20:50:00.001-06:002011-09-26T20:50:11.674-06:00

I was thinking about body image after my last post. In particular about how perhaps my dream is telling me that I'm more concerned with my own body image than most other people. This makes total sense to me as my body is mine. Still, I likely could go easier on myself, even if I've lightened up a lot lately. There are times when I don't have any notion of my physical self. I get so wrapped up

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-66990583834827562052011-09-25T22:31:00.000-06:002011-09-25T22:33:25.984-06:00

I was driving to campus the other day and I saw a fellow cycling without a shirt on. I immediately felt uncomfortable. It wasn't that he was fat or ugly; he was the usual shirtless active early twenties type. My initial thought was that I was jealous because I can't do that. (Okay, I can do that, but I really shouldn't for the sake of everyone else.) It was strange to realise that even if I was

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-39406735066773996952011-09-20T21:59:00.001-06:002011-09-20T22:05:37.489-06:00

upon a distant shore a body lying in the sands motion of wind and wave abrading flesh to bone every once in a while it sighed a sound of breath lazily spiralling up though the air to be lost sky without horizon it couldn't be reached not for lack of trying every mote of dust resistance the wrench of muscle agony sweat impregnating all falling rain filling depressions sea without shore an 

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-17483708695477497352011-09-20T21:36:00.000-06:002011-09-20T22:06:25.208-06:00

I fell through the shattered floor of our relationship splintered emotions sliding thousands of needles bleeding veins and arteries long since dry

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-42996348760130526712011-08-02T12:43:00.001-06:002011-08-02T12:44:25.302-06:00

I haven't listened to techno for prolonged periods in ages. My undergrad was full of it, especially when papers were pulling me under. I went to online radio stations and picked at random, listening to a whole range of artists and subgenres. When you are writing a paper you don't often stop, even when a song is good, to find out the names of the artists. This made it hard when I did want to buy

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-35458382405134337672011-07-23T14:28:00.000-06:002011-07-23T14:28:39.251-06:00

I know I've been gone a long time, but it always seems like there is no time for original thought. I work, I eat, and I sleep. I barely get in the downtime action writing for the LARP I play in, let alone do any other writing. Then I contemplated running a LARP. I really hesitated. There was just something not quite clicking. Luckily she was able to go for coffee with me and help me talk it

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-55072570388568006762011-06-27T10:31:00.000-06:002011-06-27T10:31:59.528-06:00

I'm not sure what's going on with helping run a LARP. There was meeting. There was talk of stuff. I got an email about it all. I'm confused. I have ideas trying to burst out. I don't want my head to explode. I'm tempted to just run my own KC LARP over the fall-winter-spring.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-19078335404716578752011-06-24T10:13:00.004-06:002011-06-24T10:15:43.430-06:00

After close to a month of having no life and being chained to work ― even if it paid off ― I feel this horrible entitlement to procrastinate. I nearly reactivated eff-book so that I'd have hours lacking productivity. Then I realised that there were better ways to avoid work, such as writing for characters I play or have played or will play. Maybe even for games I will run... I went for supper

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-20312521372598066662011-06-23T16:40:00.002-06:002011-06-23T16:41:19.434-06:00

You are too hot. I insist that you not exceed 20°C. If you continue to do so I will seek a way to have Winter return. I'd rather have -40°C temperatures for a month than your 28°C for a single day. In summation, screw you, Summer. Sincerely, AJ

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-69352993590450276272011-06-22T23:44:00.008-06:002011-06-23T20:57:42.137-06:00

I sit on the stoop watching the carsflashing past, coloured metal, gleaming chrome,they are streaks to my unfocussed eyes.I try to pull them together,make sense of what I see.When the images convergeI see my life in my blurred reflectionscoming and going in and out but alwaysalways showing what’s behind me. I never move,trapped,in a kaleidoscope of selfsubtly shifting with each passing car,

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-42107400072198001392011-06-22T10:25:00.000-06:002011-06-22T10:25:51.280-06:00

In preparation for the move I've packed up all my CDs and DVDs. I figured that I'd just use online television to entertain myself. That would have worked out fine except that I happened to look over and notice the box of VHS tapes sitting in the corner. Instead of packing up the unused bits of my kitchen I watched two movies. Starship Troopers seems to get worse the more often I watch it, but

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-87705442280560300132011-06-17T16:06:00.001-06:002011-06-18T01:07:22.783-06:00

Permission to Write = Very Happy Birthday

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-42361302807242708442011-06-09T00:07:00.008-06:002011-06-09T00:16:53.023-06:00

Hair the first:  I've found that patterns of hands in hair seem to be ingrained. With a shaved head I always ran one hand over the stubble. Love that feeling. Of course, do that to me and I'll want to gut you and string you out for the birds to peck at your everliving flesh. As my hair gets to that in between phase nothing compels my hands to my hair. Spiky, flat, neither, it doesn't matter. Now

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-63014270823495300292011-06-06T09:16:00.000-06:002011-06-06T09:16:49.964-06:00

So... I woke up to this song this morning... It was a surprise, let me tell you. A real blast from the past. I haven't heard this song in years. Years. The only thing I can think of for why it popped into my head is that I am running a set of experiments in the dark (well whatever low light gets through the blinds). So really, what happens when the lights go out is SCIENCE! and not bowling...

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-76962719720029357702011-06-05T10:05:00.001-06:002011-06-05T10:07:55.994-06:00

I've been having many dreams lately. None of them are unpleasant and they all fade soon after waking. Well, that's not true, sometimes the people of things in them are things I'd rather not have there; still, nothing they do or are is more than irritating. Sometimes a single image or snippet will remain with me into the day. Today's image is of jerkily driving down the road with a large piece of

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-37037857673892488252011-06-01T15:07:00.001-06:002011-06-01T16:11:13.933-06:00

I have to move at the end of the month. It's okay. I'll miss my house, but at the same time I was feeling ready for a change. It's been four years, or at least it would have been in two months. I'm to the point, too, where I was ready to move out on my own again. Of course that isn't happening. Until my damned degree is finished I'll be living with family. No point signing a year long lease if I

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-46964202844980409592011-05-30T17:23:00.003-06:002011-06-05T10:08:29.827-06:00

Apparently Portishead released this song for International Human Rights Day (December 10th). I guess I'm not enough of a rabid fan to have noticed it then. I'm noticing it now, though. Just another reason to adore Portishead. It is available for purchase here if you are so inclined.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-37244019931374784882011-05-25T20:17:00.000-06:002011-05-25T20:17:36.940-06:00

Warning: The following post is a bit on the rambling side. I seem to think that I’ve done a post on this topic, but for the life of me I can’t find it. Apparently I need better keywords. In the absence of that, you get another look into my thoughts on groups, specifically inclusion and exclusion. There is also a sort of pseudo-exclusion where possible members of the group find out about the

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-51709684509241300672011-05-23T11:30:00.000-06:002011-05-23T13:06:49.744-06:00

Well, I think I might be done with playlists for a while. I made another Random Thoughts playlist where the only unifying factor was that the songs got me tapping my fingers or feet. I have no idea -- nor do I care -- as to what sort of message the mix would give if listened to for the lyrics. The second playlist is about me. Not how I view the world or what I'm thinking about now, but songs

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-80965286544935604922011-05-18T20:01:00.000-06:002011-05-18T20:01:41.940-06:00

It seems that my polish -- my ability to turn the things to which I react into something clear in writing -- is gone. This is worse than writer's block. This is more like thinker's block. Then again, if my words are gone then this isn't a great time to be getting insights into my head. It could be that in writing this I will free the block. One can hope.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-84335921412264582242011-04-26T16:46:00.000-06:002011-04-26T16:46:11.147-06:00

First thunderstorm of the year is right now. It is shaking the windows with the sound. It's not a staccato sound either; the noise is drawn out over minutes. The flashes of lightning are few and far between, just there to make sure that they aren't forgotten. The rain wasn't torrential, but it sure was intense. There is water running along the sides of the roads, and fast. I always feel a

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-75979432101449199582011-04-26T01:35:00.003-06:002011-04-26T16:28:22.192-06:00

"So, AJ... it's 1:10am. What are you still doing up when you have to work in the morning?" "Cleaning!" "No, really. I mean your room looks exactly the same and yet you've been in here since 7pm. What's been going on?" "Cleaning! Seriously! See, I took things out of boxes and then had to put things back in boxes! Over there, that box looks like it has stuff in it, and, well, I guess it does but

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-75330032962035284292011-04-22T17:36:00.000-06:002011-04-22T17:36:37.191-06:00

Can you feel it? The sky is falling. I haven't felt this since, well, since I was young. It's there like an oppressive heavy weight slowly bearing down on me. Can you feel it? The sky is falling, but no one seems to see that expansive blue hurtling towards me -- coming at us all. Can you feel it? The sky is falling, ready to smother our lives, blanket us into oblivion. I need a straw to poke

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-19093063638262002012011-04-17T22:28:00.000-06:002011-04-17T22:28:07.617-06:00

The tale begins in the land of white Where light is dim and all twilightThe world is cold and food is rareBut the people live and the people careOverhead lights dance and playWith an orb of silver there to stayGenuflection and ritual riseTo a faith that never liesGiver of light high in the skyOur devotion to you will never die From the North the ice walls comeRaising alarms from every

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-45082728848253758522011-04-17T18:49:00.000-06:002011-04-17T18:49:01.166-06:00

The Sweater is dead. I know that I shouldn't be as upset as I am. It was an old sweater when it died this weekend. Near as I can remember it was about seven years old. I think I wore it at least three days in any week that was below 20°C -- in many cases I wore it all week. It was a dark blue and very simple, being nothing but stocking stitch. No nasty elastic cuffs or waist, just a slight curl.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-61356078211243556612011-04-14T13:33:00.000-06:002011-04-14T13:33:09.683-06:00

I couldn't stop it going forever and beyond never giving me a moment one small second to breathe relax be Wildly it raced on control far behind instinct and need to continue pushing aching Pulled in its wake I struggled and thrashed hoping for a measure of direction guidance Digging in my feet focused thoughts consumed ravenously devouring my time Letting go swept me up into an oblivion

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-26930620928798411192011-04-13T23:02:00.000-06:002011-05-23T13:07:27.607-06:00

So, I think I've talked before about how when I prepare for a character there will be songs that get me into the mood of that character even if they wouldn't be songs to which the character would listen. If I haven't, you've just been told. Heh. I'm finding that the same is true of me right now. Not in terms of sound exactly, but in terms of songs that describe me versus songs of which I would

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-39831386266190759552011-04-12T23:23:00.004-06:002011-04-12T23:27:52.742-06:00

So, remember two posts ago when I suffered from a Gut Punch? It stayed with me enough that I went online and checked for other videos by the artist, Florence + the Machine. I came across these (and updated the old video to the official one). These made me decide to go to the artist's site. There I determined that I couldn't live without this disc. As such, this morning iTunes ate my money.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-46450778166177282512011-04-11T19:16:00.000-06:002011-04-11T19:16:33.029-06:00

The clouds look like they might rain. I might just kill for a thunderstorm. Good thing blood sacrifices can't control the weather. Just sayin'.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-3733243514626374752011-04-10T19:07:00.002-06:002011-04-12T09:25:10.766-06:00

Get on the emotional roller coaster. Get off the emotional roller coaster.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-25116782661221082092011-03-30T07:41:00.002-06:002011-03-30T07:41:33.988-06:00

I may or may not be posting for a bit. Work is requiring retard numbers of hours in the lab. Everything else seems to be reserved for eating and sleep. And nausea. I'll be back soonish, I hope.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-3629259641168615302011-03-24T21:28:00.001-06:002011-03-24T21:30:04.465-06:00

I can't stop thinking about you sitting alone in the house your sorrow filling the room with her smell echoes of her voice going on takes it all every ounce of strength to keep it together letting the tears fall in moments of safety overwhelming grief capsizing sorrow I can see you flipping page by page blurred words passing by volumes of recipes tried and true memories of the kitchen baked

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-198890698587598882011-03-20T20:51:00.000-06:002011-03-20T20:51:03.867-06:00

The funny thing about inspiration is that it is hard to force. That doesn't mean that you can't go looking for it, but you have to be careful not to let it catch wind and thus purposefully evade you. This is the revelation that came to me this past weekend. I was thinking of Lost Autumn and how I wanted to do some writing for it, but nothing was coming to me. Nothing. It's an angels game. I could

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-64595498049509799382011-03-17T14:25:00.000-06:002011-03-17T14:25:45.784-06:00

I was walking down the hall just now and I was struck by something. All over the floor were footprints. They originated at the doors where people came in from the wet outside and extended along the paths most often walked. By one door leading into more or less a hallway there was a bidirectional divergence, while by the doors opening into a larger space there was a scattering as people moved less

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-66986267888128144112011-03-15T10:32:00.001-06:002011-03-15T10:33:05.555-06:00

Do you ever feel that your life is paused? You go through the motions, trying to get things done and move ahead, but with every thing finished there is something new. Somehow even the time to appreciate the small victories is removed from your grasp. The next thing comes and then the next and while you are making slow progress through it all, it just never seems to be enough. That big landmark

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-22257247250090630612011-03-14T16:25:00.000-06:002011-03-14T16:25:26.977-06:00

in my head I can feel you aware beyond sensation all your incarnations present not demanding attention satisfied with stray thoughts feelings and moments but making enough noise to draw me closer casting off me again to reverberate deeper twisting and winding through and around who and what I am I'd resent this intrusion if you hadn't been welcomed invited to stay forever to hold the places

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-12983241945196034882011-03-12T11:21:00.001-06:002011-03-12T11:24:06.287-06:00

I went through and finally saved copies of all of the Sour Times pictures that Rilla was kind enough to take when she NPCed for me. That was in September, but with my computer randomly crashing it never seemed worth the effort. Now that I have a stable computer I went through and saved them to it with the others. It hit me harder than I thought it would. I found that I was tearing up a bit as I

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-51696325396633129232011-03-11T16:30:00.000-06:002011-03-11T16:30:18.594-06:00

There is something about being able to rant with people or complain with people that is a real treasure. I was miserably cranky this morning, but with the commiseration of grad students and friends my mood has lifted. There was much venting and swearing and broad gesticulation. It was grand. It was something that I couldn't have done on my own. Now I don't feel the need to break things... or

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-228134409692645262011-03-11T12:08:00.000-06:002011-03-11T12:08:48.422-06:00

I'm less than tolerant today make your stupid go away get yourself into place before I slap you in the face it you think to give me strife I'll get them to condemn your life Something here's about to break if you -- icing on the cake! shove off, go, leave me be the anger's all inside of me blowing things up bigger still than they'd be were I less ill I'll come down, I always do hoping there'll be

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-23402360859347989892011-03-11T08:39:00.000-06:002011-03-11T08:39:25.087-06:00

As per my musings on music inspired by Rilla, I have completed a playlist called Visceral. Listening to the radio in the pub over supper the other night brought to mind a few songs which I don't own but which I probably should. The problem is that I'm not sure I've heard much from Toto other than Africa and I don't like most of Blue Rodeo's other music. REM I have no excuse for not owning. Bad me

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-91087907784061111082011-03-10T23:13:00.001-06:002011-03-11T07:24:50.832-06:00

I feel the need to write something. Anything. A poem or short story or other creative thing would all scratch the itch. I've got no topic. I don't mean that I lack an externally produced subject, I mean that I'm absent that internal inspiration. I shouldn't complain as I produced two short pieces in evenings earlier this week, but I am. I feel this raw need inside me to get something out but I

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-30140127331046321752011-03-09T23:00:00.000-06:002011-03-09T23:00:46.107-06:00

It needed it's own post to be said: the organisers for Lost Autumn were beyond amazing. They were playing minor NPCs but ones which allowed them to be both everywhere and unseen. There is a picture of a close up shot of the side of my head that I had no idea was being taken. They've already started to play to stories as they can -- that curve ball I mentioned. Even better, I know that  they gave

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-90715725497391692282011-03-08T22:02:00.000-06:002011-03-08T22:02:53.709-06:00

I'm sitting in my bedroom in a city all my own, drinking iced tea and thinking. The first Lost Autumn game was on Saturday, but I can still feel it in my veins. I've written two short pieces to dislodge some of what was stuck inside, but it isn't enough. It's like Garbage says in Temptation Waits: "You come on like a drug, I just can't get enough, I'm like an addict coming at you for a little

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-7065660994215811152011-03-05T10:45:00.000-06:002011-03-05T10:45:26.473-06:00

I'm sitting in a friend's kitchen in a city not my own, drinking tea and waiting. Today is the day that a new LARP, Lost Autumn, starts. I'm full of nervous energy and wonderful anticipation. It is that moment where the entirety of your character spreads out before you and nothing is impossible. Conflict and resolution swirl rapidly with friendships and animosities, all eclipsed by mutable goals

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-54086330618783244822011-03-02T22:56:00.001-06:002011-03-02T22:57:53.469-06:00

I walked a shearing shattered line To find a host in time with mine He spoke those words of fickle few Whipped the wind with gnarled pew From that dastardly howling wind To my feet a crux did send With a twist of mangled soul I struck out twain with the toll The path was broken and full of seams Ripped and tatted without the means Stolen promise brought on full Most cannot resist the pull Cat's

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-77155641987086586052011-02-25T09:24:00.000-06:002011-02-25T09:24:42.282-06:00

She wanted it all He was supposed to melt her She torched him instead ~~~~~ White blanket of snow Hiding the dirty secrets Sun exposing all ~~~~~ Sleep came and took me Into a land of wonder Hateful wakefulness

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-23667520751218310192011-02-24T14:46:00.001-06:002011-02-24T14:47:34.301-06:00

I was listening to music today when a song stalled my brain. I had no choice but to stop what I was doing to sit and listen. It's a song I like and I have it as a part of one of my mixed CDs but never has it halted all thought like that. The lines which got me in particular were by Matthew Sweet as part of Delerium's album Poem. "feel like your skin is burning into many drops of rain but it's

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-33442797292565688552011-02-23T19:10:00.000-06:002011-02-23T19:10:03.964-06:00

Last night was amazing. I didn't feel like going out but a friend who rarely calls, did. I couldn't say no, so I went out and we sat and talked for hours. It was a perfect evening. Friends are awesome. Café Mochas aren't bad either. ::grin::

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-13315806993109351412011-02-22T10:12:00.000-06:002011-02-22T10:12:42.774-06:00

you shied away I couldn't blame you when it was precisely what I wanted didn't want at all my caustic tears left scars trailing down your cheeks fingers wiping them clean raised a line of welts across your sensitive skin at a gentle word from me you flinched back rocking with the pain honesty delivered with trust intimacy cutting through defenses you hadn't thought to man not around me it made

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-56667066902627695302011-02-21T00:20:00.002-06:002011-02-21T00:21:12.872-06:00

You know what I've realised? I hold characters on television to different standards than I do people with whom I interact. I think that I've mentioned before that I separate what people do from who they are. Well, when I know the people and have reason to do so. If I don't have to interact with someone then there is no need to treat the action apart from the person. I would never condemn a

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-56908516997597897242011-02-17T11:57:00.000-06:002011-02-17T11:57:05.889-06:00

I failed to stop tears Ripping across bloody skin Blossoms on water ~~~~~ In a twilight place Sobs echoed from the shadow Best intentions sung ~~~~~ His back was broken From the weight of one snowflake Comes the avalanche

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-15998033352483258142011-01-20T11:40:00.002-06:002011-01-20T22:49:23.131-06:00

I've been thinking about intent lately. It's part of where that last poem came from. There is sometimes a disconnect between what people intend to say and what is heard. I find myself with this problem when writing for my supervisor. After years of experience he has associations with certain words and phrases and wants them to be used instead of my fumblings. Apparently the way I construct some

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-9860089641628758852011-01-17T10:40:00.002-06:002011-01-18T12:19:23.512-06:00

I saw the cutting tip of your point of view rising up the jagged edge trailing toward me knowing that to climb would mean spilling blood struggling through pain I proceeded to leave

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-8548484556243232822011-01-07T00:19:00.002-06:002011-01-07T00:20:42.771-06:00

I was watching Human Target just now, and I heard a song being played behind a scene that took me away. You should listen to it. Not only did I get an enjoyable time watching television -- I know that the good guys will win in this show -- I also got to hear a song I'd never heard before. Since The Boxer Rebellion is from the UK, that doesn't surprise me overly much. The only new music I've

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-60593146123403870192010-12-29T13:02:00.001-06:002010-12-29T15:25:30.245-06:00

We have sunshine today, but it's not enough. I'm sitting here wishing for 30C weather. I never do that. It's not that it's that cold, either; it's only -20C. I simply want to be too warm. I wish I could go home, crawl under a blanket, and drink copious amounts of tea until I started to sweat through my clothing because of the heat. I want to be able to sit in the sun and stare up at it, pitting

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-49788041227014077702010-12-25T00:19:00.000-06:002010-12-25T00:19:49.760-06:00

Hey folks, I just want to wish you a Happy Holy Day (or Holy Days) if you are religious, and general merriment if you are not. No matter what you are doing, may your time be filled with family, friends, or much needed alone time as you need. Now that the commercial part of the season is over for me, my mood has improved for the most part. No more wet blanket, here. ::grin:: Merriness to all!

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-56880961634105419502010-12-20T10:39:00.003-06:002010-12-20T10:43:35.985-06:00

This time of year can be a real pain. Everyone seems to get all excited about Christmas (or whatever winter holiday they celebrate) but I can't seem to get into the spirit. Please don't misunderstand. I really enjoy the family time. I like to be able to get together with my mom and brother, though I'll admit to being glad to seeing him go after a week. I like the late nights hunched over the

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-82966730728945399482010-12-16T11:12:00.006-06:002010-12-16T20:17:42.541-06:00

I find myself avoiding shows that I like. There is something inside me that just feels awful over the thought of something bad happening to characters that I like. So I don't watch. Or I put it off until the last moment (watching most of my shows online these days). This is retarded. Luckily for me, in most movies you have the idea that the protagonist will win out in the end, thus movies are

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-5442725812831854452010-12-14T10:15:00.001-06:002010-12-14T16:23:15.515-06:00

(There was an update to the previous post.) I haven't made a gaming post in a long time. I'm not sure why. I'm still running Werewolf more or less biweekly and I play in Exalted about the same. I simply haven't had a lot to say about either game, both of which are going well. Mostly well. I hadn't really connected with my Exalted character. I never thought about him between games. I just

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-88834038393322988052010-12-13T14:06:00.002-06:002010-12-14T16:23:30.897-06:00

standing on the jagged ledge I cut myself upon an edge water drips into a basin from rafters young and brazen within a slowly spreading pool I make a wish upon the Fool sound of drops keeping pace with a slowly changing face stumbling out on crumbling bridge to stand on neither imposing ridge dust drifts down in lazy spin swept up to begin again through the gaps bits fall away past febrile

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-33894281005357258462010-12-09T15:56:00.001-06:002010-12-09T15:57:25.216-06:00

I'm really distracted today, which isn't a good thing as I will be stuck at work late doing an experiment. I would have been done sooner but the sinus cold was not cooperative. I would put it off but I need to meet with my supervisor tomorrow morning. What I really want to be doing is following people around. When I went for a snack and then later to return things down the hall I found myself

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-78769646856879808542010-12-06T09:26:00.000-06:002010-12-06T09:26:21.634-06:00

I was lying in bad last night being tortured by the ill when I realised that I had no theme song. Dido was trying to sing my discomfort away and bring me sleep when I had this revelation. None of her songs would do. This morning I've put my iPod on shuffle in hopes of finding something, but so far nothing. I'm not a Golddigger or Only Happy When It Rains. I guess I've come close with Blunt, but

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-81787690520657264062010-12-05T13:13:00.001-06:002010-12-06T11:59:05.319-06:00

There was a man who ate much gruel His guts thought this inordinately cruel He quickly pulled down his pants And annihilated some ants With a torrential shit-slide of stool That gem was brought to you by a day of contemplating poo. You see, I woke up yesterday not knowing it would be different in unusual ways. Then I had a bowel movement. It was excruciating. I had no idea my sphincter was that

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-87722080838195379982010-11-23T00:07:00.001-06:002010-11-23T00:08:29.885-06:00

I sat on a chair and begged for a piece of quiet and stillness to be within reach I was tangled and twisted in the riot of noise my wants viewed people as naught but toys marionettes dancing on befouled strings not good, not evil, but disposable things taking tortured breath and blowing forth smoke pessimism and weariness on which I did choke temporarily blinded in my own little world my hopes

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-30285712185120889562010-11-18T13:19:00.000-06:002010-11-18T13:19:21.554-06:00

Do you ever hate yourself? Hate the things you've done? Hate what you are doing? How about other people, do you hate them? The things that they do or have done? I've been thinking about hate a lot lately. As a child I was never encouraged to hate anything. I was allowed to dislike something, or really dislike something, but hating was actively discouraged. It was a bad word in my house. Well,

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-76587787463477638472010-11-16T13:44:00.001-06:002010-11-16T13:45:49.244-06:00

I can feel your eyes on me from across the room you watch as I mingle and move through a room filled with people I wonder which face it is that you see of my many shifting looks perhaps you are good enough to see the subtle differences as I move from person to person adjusting to suit my impressions of each or those things which I know to be true if ever truth existed as subjective I can't help

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-82427608047096687642010-11-15T13:26:00.000-06:002010-11-15T13:26:32.618-06:00

I'm having one of those times in my life where I feel crazy. Things inside of me are trying hard to escape, but not in good ways. They are desperate to rip themselves out of my chest, splintering my ribcage and exploding my viscera onto my sweater. Don't you love it when your viscera gets stirred up? The only thing I can liken it to is screaming into a pillow. You know, when you are really upset

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-47173870883410920412010-11-12T01:52:00.000-06:002010-11-12T01:52:07.013-06:00

i heard an aria soaring through my mind it rose up a pillar of sound, fragile as glass destroying every bit of silence it came near, leaving melodic echoes dancing in its wake representing the content it brought tears pure and true an unadulterated expression: joys and sorrows, pain and recovery strength of will and perseverance unending continuance strange shapes spun off from it dancing as

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-20052741696650407212010-11-09T18:14:00.000-06:002010-11-09T18:14:51.407-06:00

i'm drifting into a sun i find it strange how the warmth on my face comforts me how can something so intangible bring so much relief? it took me forever eternity to correct my spin you'd think it might be easy with nothing to do but that yet once you get there you have to remain still quell those involuntary twitches it's good to have direction floating in the void otherwise you might go mad

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-7570702451384202992010-11-09T15:30:00.000-06:002010-11-09T15:30:01.085-06:00

the twilight of the soul they called it conjoined in their pride brought to mutual consensus and driven to name it as they must happier they had never been than when they came together to bring something so complex and circumconvolutedly obscene to such a simple single image with a name given surely they could treat it and they would bringing relief or at the least answers to questions unasked

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-3078340025496579962010-10-26T10:52:00.000-06:002010-10-26T10:52:40.508-06:00

It started last night, but I gave it little thought. That was last night, a fleeting ephemeral time. This morning when I woke up I could still feel it. It was a pause in my morning, as though I was moving through an unnatural stillness while I showered and shaved. Hoping that I would be wrong but knowing that I couldn't be, I hit the remote start for the car and got dressed, still not ready to

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-87256745887943563032010-10-20T11:39:00.001-06:002010-10-20T11:41:32.062-06:00

I find myself curiously silent. There are no rants trying to burst out of me. The torturing introspection has gone upstairs to get a drink and some food before it comes down to apply the thumb screws. My muse is on holiday seeing her sisters -- if she is visiting your muse please let her know that I miss her but I understand her need to get away for a bit. The only thing that I can think of to

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-44985898079751696332010-10-07T12:46:00.000-06:002010-10-07T12:46:51.670-06:00

I'm having one of those days where there are too many things to do -- all at once. This is frustrating. Worse is that my body has decided to rebel today. My shoulders, legs, feet, forearms, and hips all ache. Seriously, my hips ache. Who ever heard of aching hips? This is ridiculous. Oh, and I can't seem to eat enough even though I'm full. What a fun day. Tomorrow better go smoother. Speaking of

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-74692442858577279222010-10-07T09:29:00.000-06:002010-10-07T09:29:52.371-06:00

We recently got cable with our Internet. It was cheaper than the Internet alone, so I figured it couldn't hurt to see what was out there. The benefit that I didn't expect was the on demand selection. Brilliant idea. Movies and television programs that I can watch whenever I want! I've come to realise that this is a good thing and a bad thing. The good part is that I can watch a season of shows

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-74802057934054942282010-10-04T11:49:00.000-06:002010-10-04T11:49:10.654-06:00

Say the title of this post. Say it again. Now think about what you said. Did you say you're welcome or did you say your welcome. Say it again and double check. If you said your welcome, what is it about the welcome of the person to whom you are speaking that you want to talk about? Are you perhaps just noting their ownership and mentioning it out loud? "I like your welcome. It's very nice. Where

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-78618315015783625482010-10-03T00:45:00.000-06:002010-10-03T00:45:23.778-06:00

I think I think not I think knot the words in my head are twisted tumbling in on themselves each one bouncing in the cage B9! like a child again? speaking without consideration doing without regard for others moving with careless abandon I couldn't handle that -- wouldn't pull it off my mind moves in other ways the strands of belief worming through fecund ground of creativity until another

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-55238031339224737822010-10-02T18:08:00.000-06:002010-10-02T18:08:58.204-06:00

I don't want to be famous but I do want to make an Emperor cry. Strange how the changing context can make you think you want something that you otherwise wouldn't; how a phrase uttered in passing in a movie can have a strong influence on the thoughts. Yet, when I break it down, I still don't want to be well known. I'd settle for the Emperor crying in private, with no one else the wiser -- other

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-63914140176506587172010-09-30T21:59:00.001-06:002010-09-30T21:59:26.539-06:00

I sarcastic blood runs from my nose I can't believe that you hit me that hard with a well timed insult and a brazen fist life flashed before my eyes not my own but all of yours... the ways in which I would take it II the clothes you chose for me wore me to the movie I cringed inside with each casual glance for I wasn't me being me but you being me and you don't do me very well then again, you

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-58851301527764812552010-09-30T12:21:00.002-06:002010-09-30T21:59:57.578-06:00

I I stand on the edge of a bright blue swimming pool bright red speedo revealing more than it conceals preparing to plunge into blessed arctic chemical chlorine the only thing I can do to hide an onslaught of emotion I curl my toes and leap to the sound of fabric parting with a breeze across my ass I'd lose it... but what is one more tear II the potato peeler lies on the counter with skin

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-20680729013765177752010-09-22T10:10:00.000-06:002010-09-22T10:10:16.390-06:00

Last night I dreamt that my dad came home. I gave him a big hug and we were very happy to see each other. When we went out for food he vanished. The dream moved on to other things, but when awake this morning I saw an advertisement, on the side of a bus, for the funeral home we used. Stupid universe. I know why I had the dream I did last night, including all of the other bits that I didn't share

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-12298057058895123222010-09-20T15:00:00.003-06:002010-09-20T15:04:09.168-06:00

I find it strange how sometimes a lyric can mean more to you than other times. Oh, not in that ordinary ups and downs sort of way where the music you listen to is chosen by your mood, but in the hearing of an old song as one completely new. I made a mix disc years ago. I called it Random Thoughts: Second (for it was the second such mix disc) but perhaps I should have called it Random Thoughts:

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-85360807669364772722010-09-15T01:12:00.001-06:002010-09-15T01:22:00.246-06:00

I've had the following running through my head all day. It made me laugh when I needed it, even if the laugh was a bit forced. Understanding Me: An Epic Poem in Three Parts I. What? II. Fuck! III. Fuck.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-41053067241013697102010-09-14T10:10:00.000-06:002010-09-14T10:10:29.231-06:00

The Bad News that went Horrible didn't go Shattered but instead went Worrisome-But-Maybe-Okay-Time-Will-Tell. Waiting is hard.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-88456213698769859992010-09-13T16:12:00.000-06:002010-09-13T16:12:26.672-06:00

This last week was crazy busy. In addition to work and prepping to TA, I had company from Thursday night through to Sunday afternoon. It was night to see everyone, but by the end I was feeling over-touched and tired. There was someone whom seemed to be excluded from the over-touch going on, and I must admit that I took advantage of that at coffee after the game. The reason that there were so

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-49292756777882712932010-09-03T13:23:00.001-06:002010-09-03T13:24:27.803-06:00

do you remember we met amid laughter friends of friends that laughter continued but you were too needy I tried to tell you in my ways like those times when I wouldn't talk to you for a week but you pushed in with your need to be engaged obsessed with being a friend so much done "for me" if you wanted something you always knew best and I tried to be a good friend now I see that I was bad but so

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-23075335222896588842010-09-02T11:31:00.000-06:002010-09-02T11:31:24.205-06:00

I loved her I loved to love her wrapping my life around her little finger smallest whim nothing was too much laughter and tears together joined as one caring and cared for a new life making my old one fade time passed in increased barbs a parting of time interests diverging she left me in the evenings drugs, alcohol, and dancing her addictions her escape from me the wild child young without

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-49750978004194993682010-09-02T09:13:00.003-06:002010-09-02T15:18:38.170-06:00

It was hard to crave fire that much. He loved to watch it flicker and dance over the wood. The way it took a decades old tree and reduced it to ash in a matter of minutes was a thing of beauty. The way it shifted in colour with heat, nice and orange at the tips with reddish sparks flashing into the sky. Down near the core of the flame a delicate blue huddling near the coals and fuel. It was that

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-78937684776645552522010-09-01T21:07:00.000-06:002010-09-01T21:07:04.793-06:00

he sits his big old chair sagging with age like folds of skin once pudgy cheeks the remote control sits on the table beside him a dead thing like everything else in the room but one that brings in life he reaches for it starts to flip channel to channel nothing on except sin and corruption he settles televised evangelicalism it is the only safe source of talking people who bare themselves

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-80831801973223236322010-09-01T16:55:00.000-06:002010-09-01T16:55:13.380-06:00

he started to open eyes filthy with grit -- sealed shut should he bother? his body prone wet mud cushioning he lay there -- ennui he sneezed unwanted movement, violent and abrupt broken his arm rose, dragging a hand to crusted eyes he rubbed gently imperceptibly, he blinked around him: grey bleak shadowed shades of despair washing over in rhythmic discontent he realised that to stay was

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-60131593086894871912010-08-31T08:14:00.000-06:002010-08-31T08:14:23.683-06:00

I've lost the self-pitying tone, but I find that when I realise what I've written, it is too personal right now. I seem to be having an extremely introverted, silent, and solitude-required couple of weeks. The insomnia isn't helping. So. Still alive. Not really posting right now but hopefully soon.

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-88967382990714288892010-08-19T13:42:00.002-06:002010-08-19T13:43:30.202-06:00

I have things to say right now, but everything I write seems to come out as self-pitying rather than introspective and thoughtful. Unless I can lose that inappropriate whine, which I'm honestly not feeling, I'm not going to post... unless a poem or two slips out. Give me a few days. I think that is sometimes a problem when you are writing about the things that you are thinking about -- things

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-54777080555541533172010-08-13T01:05:00.002-06:002010-08-13T01:09:03.471-06:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the difference between writing poetry and music lyrics. I've never done the latter, mind you, except for in my head and parodies. Parodies are fun. Frig. If I land up singing Napalm Sticks To Little Children in the lab tomorrow, I'm coming after you, Ceno. I'm not sure why I'll blame you, but I will. Anyway, parodies to the side. It seems to me that all song

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-77328834131350018452010-08-12T12:44:00.000-06:002010-08-12T12:44:47.010-06:00

all my hate and all my pain they settle in, they've come again energy rises, irritation rages things progress to worst in stages the music pounds a steady beat I smash your face in with my feet the tempo varies with the band no matter which I hurl my hand to your car, now you race I beat you there, curb-stomp your face I drag you back in by the hair try to escape, don't you dare I think it's

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-63533755739858152282010-08-12T12:28:00.000-06:002010-08-12T12:28:04.636-06:00

My iPod and I are not on good terms right now. Worse, my CD collection has sided with my iPod. Where does this leave me? Listening to the same music that I have for a long time, enjoying little, tolerating less, and absolutely disliking most. I don't know why I can't find that to which I would like to listen. It is as though my mood is so busy roiling that it can't settle -- or allow itself to

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-64192166191336529032010-08-11T00:40:00.001-06:002010-08-11T00:42:05.833-06:00

I can't seem to fall asleep without background noise. What does this mean? It means lying on the couch with pillow and blanket watching television, usually in the form of series on DVD (and thus re-runs so that I don't need to desperately stay awake), and waiting until I realise that I've just missed a good chunk of the show. Then I get up and head straight to bed. Do not pass the bathroom and do

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859301639970519468.post-77913481631529217032010-08-07T15:43:00.000-06:002010-08-07T15:43:31.434-06:00

...daydreaming and television watching but not much else. I am so sick of being sick. I was actually bed-ridden sick. Well, couch-ridden, but that's basically the same thing. The joint aches and pains and everything sinus and nose-blowing related was bad, but combined with the nausea and lack of proper food it left me throwing up stomach acid, water, and what little I tried to eat. For some

AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01170803087699873900noreply@blogger.com0