I spent about 15 minutes looking for my glasses in the aftermath-of-a-tornado which is my room this morn when I woke up. my room is especially messy, i’ve been especially busy. not necessarily time-busy, but mind-busy. I have other things i’m thinking about, like how i love being legally blind … I went to a show, a pretty fantastic show, which featured, among many others, two people that I’ve come to really love. One is Possessed by Paul James. I can’t describe him, he’s insane. A school teacher named Konrad Wert, has fortunately become possessed by Paul James, and the resulting music feels like the darkest, most chaotic corner of a blackhole, if the blackhole was in the deep south. Another is Frank Turner. He wrote this song called Substitute, and it’s the song i’ve been trying to write. … i’m obsessed with honesty. I want to tell each person I know exactly what I’m feeling about everything all the time. i don’t know what purpose this serves, but I think if everyone lived this way, something would be different about the world. but, as it is. i don’t live this way. I want to. but doing so can only mean one thing: i’ll be a weirdo. not to mention it taking an exorbitant amount of time. but imagine, if for every person you knew, you knew their motivations, and their little inexplicable idiosyncrasies, and all the shit in their lives that shaped their being, how they were raised, why they don’t like vegetables, what it feels like for them to have vegetables in their mouths (i personally enjoy vegetables), and for every person that knew you knew why you do all the things that you do, that would be as close as we can get to a utopia, I think. but this is crazy. too many people. I guess this would work in a small commune. mandated conversations with everyone in the commune, as to achieve max-level understanding of one another. Of course, everyone would have to be pretty receptive and understanding to live this way. imagine, you wake up one morning, someone shat on your welcome mat. you approach the culprit, and they say “sorry, it’s just one of my little idiosyncrasies. i shit on welcome mats. I can’t help it. please understand.” in this world, i might have to put my welcome mat away, so he/she wouldn’t be tempted to shit on it. but that’s insane. I guess it goes back to cultural norms, and how norms shape our reactions to whatever stimulant, in this case, shit on your welcome mat. (sociology! i guess i’m just sociologizing in this blog post. I didn’t do much in college, even when I was taking sociology, but I’m glad i can do it here) … i made a terrible purchase the other day. I bought a vintage folding bike. it’s terrible. so slow. and the seat hurts my ass. i took it out this afternoon and I couldn’t go further than a couple of blocks without getting unbearably annoyed. i had a feeling that this bike wouldn’t be right, but Deb and Dan of Artesia, CA were such nice people, that I couldn’t walk away from their welcoming eyes and willingness to meet me past 9pm for a craigslist purchase, without having given this bike a chance. i took it home, took it apart, cleaned and lubricated everything, but still, my feelings were correct. terrible. I thought it might have just needed a little bit of tlc from a tender, loving, and caring person such as myself, but that didn’t help much. however, it’s a very cute bicycle. i may end up just posing in front of it for pictures. a prop bike if you will, like one of those guitars at Starshots© or Photomakers© or Excel Photo© that have no strings. People who actually play guitar can’t grasp this concept of the “prop guitar”. I know, i’ve done the survey. (Cause it’s still a guitar, just no strings. Nothing fake about it, and converting it to an actual guitar takes $15 and a trip to the music shop). This bike is so slow and so very useless as a mode of transportation, that I might be tempted to call it a “guitar-with-no-strings”. that might be a stretch … one night, my dad, to abbreviate the word “work” in a conversation with my mom- “how’s your ‘W’?” he says. Saying “W” is a total of 2 more syllables than the word “work”. calling an extraordinarily slow bike a “guitar-with-no-strings” just reminded me of that … this has been pretty random … I made my first dollar playing on the street the other night. actually, it was two dollars, which i used to purchase 4 jbox tacos. I didn’t put a donation receptacle out, so the generous man just stuffed it behind my guitar case. two dollars. it was a good night.

here’s a song i wrote. it’s pretty straightforward. tortoise

i met a girl named molly last night. I approached her after a beautiful rendition of a Bob Dylan song at an open mic. She mumbled, but sort-of an angelic, nasal slurring, through “ballad of a thin man”. i stalked her outside and asked for another. She gave me three. Two more Dylans and an [...]

i had a pretty great day today. i got a postcard from France. I’m in love with my friends who send me postcards … i spent a few hours at one of my favorite restaurants in San Diego the other day, Ono’s Cafe. By far, my favorite place to sit and drink and read. Sit, drink, [...]

i could go for some kind of rebirth … -ing. i look down at my hands when I write, and often imagine them shriveling down to fetus-size. The rest of me shrinks into my hands, placenta creeps over them, then the rest of me is soon covered. everything within sight fades down to a blackened [...]

some nights, I don’t feel too good. nights with myself, when the quiet seems unusually close to my ears, in bed before I sleep; too much thinking. Though, I feel like if I slept under the stars every night, I would feel better about this little bit of time between the sun’s set and sun’s [...]

its sunday morning. I looked at my face just now and saw that i’m really tanned. and realized that I was outside for a majority of the day yesterday. then i saw a gash on my forehead. my drunk friend threw a cup of yoplait yogurt at my face the night before. i was drunk [...]

love is funny
cause it never seems to be
easy for people like you (nor me)
those who look for a flash
but what does that do?
blinded for a second or two, and then
we’re at it again, separate but within
the same bubble of lovers
who’ll never be friends ….
boop boop beep beep
lately, i’ve been having these two-part nights, where I [...]

there’s a book I’m reading. it’s probably the longest book I’m going to finish. almost 700 pages. the font size, is moderate in size. small to medium. nothing VERY impressive, but I would say to myself, if I weren’t myself and someone else, “hey, way to finish that long book. let me buy you a [...]

some ways I spend my life these days:
I learned to stare. I can stare at anything. I stare at the ground, the sky, the clutter of items right in front of me. I like the feel of things in my hand. I hold everything tightly at least once, to make sure that it’s real, but [...]