frost

running barefoot
in the rain on tuesday, oh betty

singing freestyle
out the car window, oh sally

these things
winter takes away, oh jenny

tell mary
to wake me in may

untitled

i look at you and i laugh a laugh of cautious happiness. it is more like ragtime and less like jazz. it is unsustainable though, one of the many things that won’t last long enough. when the sound fades the memory is already distorted. was it really ragtime or was it blues? how can i be sure? i write to counteract. to preserve the unpreservable. ink is embalming fluid but already the body has decomposed. the current is entropic and the struggle hopeless.

clubbing in the a.m.

the gym on a saturday
a live dj
non-regulars
some monitors left black
others displaying a kids network

hearing "um-cha um-cha"
seeing "spongebob: nooooooo!"
feeling confused
feeling frustrated
feeling motivated

someone is asking
what do you do?
she's well dressed
i notice the time
the speakers transition to celine
a remix of sorts
this is the weekend

balance

we are a people of inequality. we love rank and class. and when we run out of legitimate things with which to rank ourselves we find things well beyond our own control. our freedom is the freedom to keep things unbalanced. it is no surprise that it would be that way because on one side of our scale lies human nature in its obesity, and on the other lies that unnatural abortion labeled “common good”. my nutritionist doubts my diet will be changing anytime soon.

impressions of nothing

i meet this guy
this girl
most people
at the gym
in the plane
wherever

mostly, i wonder
why you?
why now?
fix this

mostly, i'm thinking
i detest approximation
i need multi-dimensional
i'm so fucking bored with you

typ

j: want to get out of here?
p. and go where?
j: anywhere.
p: not here?
j: that’s not really what i had in mind.
p: so where then?
j: across the street, my house, to a deli?
p: i have liquor and diet snapple and half a bagel at my place.
j: got a toaster?
p: oven.
j: i’m there.

the obvious: restated

britney's out of her fucking mind
write that down

ignore the shaved head
the ink
the kids

i need to see more
or in her case
considerably less

acknowledgement

it is both poor form and a shirking of responsibility to blame one’s own failures on alcohol. is it not, then, fair to leave liquor uncredited for it’s role in the creation of certain prose? i assume most writers think so, as i have never yet seen it mentioned, and i am an avid reader of acknowledgements. i am, however, of the old-fashioned mindset that quantifiable sources must be credited.

p.s. thanks to frank bartles and ed jaymes.

contrarily

here is what is so funny about this situation. the more i am denied something, the more i want it for the sake of getting it. even if the end result is worse than the beginning condition. i have the potential to regress substantially given the right set of circumstances. and i will relish it as a conscious choice to buck logic. for those whose religion is rationality, this sort of thing feels like free falling while on fizzy narcotics. or love.

friday again and again

it’s friday. i have complete freedom. i can used fabric softener on my taupe-colored laundry. or not. i can listen to the same song again and again and again and again and then listen to a different song with the same chord basis but an altogether different singer. anything goes! except this vague feeling of anticipation. that never goes.

kol

is anyone else terrified of what will be on kings of leon’s new album? because of the times could single handedly make or break my april, which is a pivotal month in transitioning from pants to shorts. from their website:

…Because Of The Times (the title refers to an annual preachers’ conference the boys attended growing up) contains Kings of Leon’s first-ever album track that clocks in at longer than five minutes (“Knocked Up”), the first song with vocal effects (“On Call”), and the first one you could verifiably call an arena-rock anthem (“Black Thumbnail”). Then there’s the breakneck “McFearless,” the chiming “Ragoo,” the scuzzy “Charmer,” and the waltzing “The Runner”

the first single is “on call”, and although i like it i am wary as it lies in the gap that they had successfully wedged between themselves and everyone else with their first two albums. i am worried that their new-found eclecticism may not tread new ground but instead the worn paths of others. the words “arena-rock” also scare me like the thought of naked clowns. there is so much potential here. aha shake heartbreak is one of my favorite albums of all time. i’m not sure i can deal with a letdown.

intra-state reflection

last weekend was spent in the past
going "home" often is

saturday night proved satisfying
visiting the home of t.price
good music
quality alcohol
and a rubik's cube

a friend argued virtues
of old music
of old ideas
of history
to him
the past is all that we have

it used to be
that others made choices for you
that good was the same as great
that what you heard was all that existed

observing now
that there is less good
that we need to decide
that intelligence is necessary

progress
independence
i'm ok with this

eating soap

i have noticed over the years that people tend to forget much of beginning and middle of events and recall their end in much more detail than any other part. this is partly due to temporal concerns, of course, but even with short duration events the last thing one sees/feels seems to be etched more clearly in memory. that is why it is important to make a good last impression. while “firsts” are the things that make life worth living, “lasts” are the things that make life bearable in between. i devote a good deal of thought to last impressions. i like to leave others with a good taste in their mouth. dry, nutty, and just the slightest hint of fruit.

another sxsw post

the 2007 austin music festival’s lineup has finally been announced. i am especially excited to see these bands:

a band of bees, beach house, the apes, cold war kids, the dears, dosh, do make say think, thomas dybdahl, field music, girl talk, grand buffet, emily haines, headlights, the honorary title, junior senior, lily allen, limbeck, panda & angel, saturday looks good to me, snowden, someone still loves you boris yeltsin, the walkmen

i will not, of course, get to see them all, but this is like christmas to me. only instead of being about the birth of santa, it is about how music isn’t dead yet. which is a very real reason to cling to a bit of hope. and get drunk at the same time.

purity

…however, i can’t help but think that every time i walk by some shitty bar playing alt-country a small piece of that moment rubs off on me. if we are the sum of our experiences then this prospect frightens me, as bad art tends to stick in my head for as long a time as good art. i want to be pure. i want to have knowledge of something without it changing me. i want to be immune…

i-fficiency

and the easiest way to learn that your favorite acoustic nickelback song will be coming live to a stage near you...>

dead soda

as a teenager i used to put an empty surge can in the middle of the snow and then yell, “surge!” and race to it, eventually diving for victory. i’ll grant that it would have been sweeter if i’d have had any friends to race with. but not only was surge a great drink, it was the most extreme soda of the late nineties (sorry faygo). that is why i enjoyed this article about dead sodas so much. i remember almost all of them. and, yes, i too was an orbitz poser for a while. of course this was all before it became hip to be square, before i gave up soda for diet snapple, heineken light, and occasionally pomegranate juice.

mondays are best for unpackaging small items

today, at the store
i'm buying almonds
unsalted
dry roasted
a must for muscle development

candy is available in the same section
per piece
people steal it
per piece

today, a girl
beige burberry scarf
same as me
grey pinstripe pants
same as me
dark hair, wide collar, confident stare
same as me

she takes something
wrapped
chocolate
i'm thinking
you're not nearly hot enough for this
i'm thinking
things aren't always what they appear

rap ture

i went to the rex last night with mikey and rebecca, and we met up with d.e. and her friend. i was delightfully buzzed in a happy purgatory between sober and drunk, which was an ideal state for whiteboy dancing. i was also happy because i hadn’t hung out with rebecca in a while, and seeing the rapture is the perfect thing to do in her company. the best realization of the night was that d.e. is just as fun to hang out with in person as she is to hang out with in your mind. the next best is that i totally didn’t look out of place dancing poorly at the show. luke and the boys played all their great tunes, and i even got to sleep in a bed last night.

*update* i almost forgot to relate the fact that luke eye-checked me and pointed his guitar right at me during the show. this was probably either because he could see the coolness and liquor emanating from me or because he recognized me from the topless photos i sent to him. finally.

paris-rama

the tapes (one here) taken from paris hilton’s storage locker are difficult to sit through, mostly due to her voice. but that doesn’t mean that i skipped over one minute of the hours of night-mode footage. it’s oddly entrancing, like some sort of bizarro glamorama with less good-looking people. paris is totally the allison character, and the dude doing blow off his stomach could easily be bentley. while i neither condone nor endorse this type of behavior, i have to admit i’d most likely fall into that pointless lifestyle given the opportunity. it is, after all, the american dream (if we still have that ability).

important checkpoints on dimly lit roads

i am nearing the attainment of my recently targeted hair style
others seem impressed
they look.
they nod.
they ask.

it's possible that i don't provide what they are searching for
after all, what is there to say?
(refreshing) i know.
(impressive) of course.
(i'm actually...) you can't.
(but for you...) inevitably.

everyone competes somewhere
some attempt everywhere
it would be much simpler if that were the extent of it
it would be much simpler if we had the script ahead of time

taking is the new giving

people are no longer impressed
you need to prove that you can help
when innovation is expected
relevance reigns supreme

the details have become...irrelevant