2005-03-28 - 8:09 a.m. The current mood of at

note: comments don't work until i pay $$$.

feeling: hearing:

once in a lifetime.

here we go again...

back in new jersey...

rocking some mu330 on a random pair of ipod headphones i found behind rob's computer, having random conversations on aim.

i have a psp. you don't. me > you.

how about a nice, meaty update for you all to chew on?

i came here to rock.

there really is nothing wrong with me or my life at this point. i think. i don't know, really. i won't know until i'm actually dead and can check out my life as a complete piece instead of falling forward through time and letting the smallest distractions force me to play catch up to get back into the moment. for now, i'm happy.

tour was really rad. i met cool people. i saw america from an angle i had never seen before. i saw things that would drive normal people crazy and that would drive crazy people to drink.

oh, and i've been up all night. cut me some slack if none of this makes any sense whatsoever.


yeah, so i'm hurting for a cup of coffee. i want to go skateboarding. i want to go snowboarding. i want to get drunk. i need to get some bud...

oh... the buds... all across america... the buds.

you have no idea.

ok, here's a tangent:

all across america, people are going to work, coming home from work, working...

it's what people do. wage slaves.

bands occupy the negative space between those people. going to work means driving to the next show. working means the hour or so that the rocking happens, and coming home from work means making the trek to wherever home is.

not that any of this means anything to anyone who hasn't experienced it firsthand...

but once you do, you know.

you understand what it means to exist independent of society.

btw- if you're keeping score, i'm listening to the talking heads right now.

i'm sure they know what i'm talking about.

unfortunately, it is a bit of an esoteric point.

it also doesn't matter, because all of your lives go on and none of this means a shit's worth of piss to any of you. your favorite bands come to town, they rock your face off, you go home with a smile, and they continue on.

c'est la vie.

which i guess brings me to an only minutely related point, which is:

how does one keep busy on the fifteen hour drives, or even the thirty-plus hour drives back from salt lake city?

it helps if you've got a ps2, dvd's, books, a bed to sleep in, good tunes, and rad travel partners.

i think i'm running out of content here.

i'll probably drop something else in here later on today.

feelings are moot.

where is that beautiful house?

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psp pwnx0rz. - that's how i got your fucking bitch on my dick.

this is not good music.

you can hate me now.

check this out! it's a toilet full of poop!

welcome to central industrial. we are the future.

exchange stupidity, laugh, repeat

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