My conservative christian sixth-grader neighbor is over at my house playing Starcraft, so I'm blasting The Clash and periodically rushing over and slashing him with a highlighter.

Please, please, please go and download the movie I made with Bryan. It's been quite popular, and I haven't run into a bad review yet. I know people who have watched it thirty times.

Movie!

I finished a minute-and-a-half long movie I made with Bryan one day, and it's gaining a small cult following. IM me and I can send it to you; you may have to download Quicktime to play the .mov file.

A new kid on the block. http://www.shaftpatty.blogspot.com/ Come back when his grammar has inebriated you.

Over at Bryan's and up at six so I can watch the sun rise through the cold. Something sacred made its way out of me, and it flew too fast with honesty irreparable. Time for trust and friendship to kick in. Good to laugh again.

Reading old, yellowed conversations makes me appreciate my standing in things. A tragedy. I have a lot to think about this morning, and a lot of decisions to make.

It seems like we, 'teenagers', are almost obligated to listen to music as a form of personal extension. It's all around us, overwhelming, it's ingrained in our society and every one of us. It's always there. On TV, on the streets, even advertisements are somewhat musical. So instead of choosing to love music, we just do. It's a given. And maybe we don't even 'love' music, but just accept it as a part of our lives, one more way to pass time.

Even worse than this neglect is the idea people seem to carry around that the music they listen to is the most holy part of themselves, as if these musicians you don't even know could express to the world your innermost thoughts. Sometimes it even becomes a kind of language, to be traded as little bits of ourselves. To try to flesh out an impression of someone you might browse their cd's. It's become a means of communication, which is so bizzare. Whole conversations can be played out by trading mp3's. Such a strange niche in the human web.

It's eleven-forty on a school night and I'm feeling an INCREDIBLE SENSE OF ELATION! Jump on my balloon, let's go sailing.

Eliminating the competition.

"I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me. She showed me her room, isn't it good Norwegian Wood."

Unmitigatedly pretentious of me to do this, but I'm posting lyrics.

Mortal Kombat!
Mortal Kombat!
Fight!
Excellent.
Liu Kang
Sonya
Jax
Kitana
Jade
Sub-Zero
Scorpion
Cyrax
Smoke
Sheba
Motaro
Hahahahaha!
Choose your destiny.
Flawless victory.
Fight!
Mortal Kombat!
Finish her!
Excellent.
Liu Kang
Sonya
Jax
Kitana
Jade
Sub-Zero
Scorpion
Cyrax
Smoke
Sheba
Motaro
Hahahahaha!
Brutality.
Animality.
Fatality.
Superb.
Choose your destiny.
Flawless victory.
Fight!
Mortal Kombat!
Finish him!
Well done.
Outstanding.
You'll never win!
Danger.
I win.
Hahahahahaha!
Choose your destiny.
Flawless victory.
Fight!
Mortal Kombat!
Finish him!

Unmitigatedly pretentious of me to do this, but I'm posting lyrics.

Do you realize
That you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize
We're floating in space?
Do you realize
That happiness makes you cry?

Do you realize
That everyone you know someday will die?
And instead of saying all of your good-byes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Do you realize?

Do you realize
That everyone you know someday will die?
And instead of saying all of your good-byes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Do you realize
That you have the most beautiful face?

Do you realize?


The Flaming Lips - Do You Realize


note: existentialist crisis not included.

Head above ground now, dirt and mud is so much smaller than the limitless sky.

Bryan,

Keep up the good work.

Harrison.

Ironically, Tom Green is one of two television personalitlies I actually admire, the other being Michael Moore. Jackass can't hold a flame.

Speaking in tongues with internet stuck through head. Maybe if all the blogs speak in a broken, Joyce-esque poetic code, people will think we're brilliant.

Ah, broken corridors and my foot hurts like Bowie in a cold rain. Comply comply and heart will spiral on.

I feel a consistent obligation to create. "You should be reading something, listening to something, writing something, creating something, meditating, anything but sitting around on your ass talking to people." Gets so frustrating. It's usually not even creative inspiration, it's just a drive to try to self-improve. The desire to see eye to eye with twenty year olds isn't detrimental, in fact it's been quite helpful in helping me mature, I just feel like I need to create little macro-universes on a page or a screen somewhere and it pisses me off sometimes.

Of course, maybe I'm afraid of my own potential. This happen to anyone else?

If you stand out in a crowd, I want to hear from you. Drop me a line (the hook is optional) at wiggleforce@aol.com

Two parts blind love, one part reproach. That's the way to take it.

Sinners!

I happened upon a story I did for the Marshall Website in my seventh grade year that's been repackaged and ripped off. Whoever found it deep in the catacombs of my residual files did a good job of spiffing it up but they never give me credit. I'm being plagiarized by kids two years younger than me.

Two horrifying people.