I love kittens. They are so bad ass. ANd puppies. I wish I had a pet here. Alittle friend to tell all my secrets to. At one point I had an actual journal I'd confess everything to, but I forgot about it for a month, and upon finding it, had to rip the pages up and flush them. Too horrible.
I've been reading alot. Palahnuik's new book "rant" was pretty bad ass. Thinking about going into AMy Hempel. Also, Breakfast of Champions by Vonnegut. Real estate books give me a kick, I like to imagine myself with loads of cash. Been playing the stock market alittle, making some bank.
Gotta work Tommorow. Gotta eat tommorow, gotta run tommorow, gotta live.
I'm coming out of a cave I've been hiding in for the last 9 months. As soon as I got to Korea, I threw my emotions into a little closet and tranced out the world in the states. Living in the moment for almost a year. That's one long moment. I've been feeling so tired lately. I'm trying tog et my paperwork through to get myself sent to Ft. Drum. I hope I got there. I miss everyone, even if I never really talked to them more than a handful of times. I've been focused on new, short term friends since I've been in the army. I can't say to these guys, "remember back when.........."
I've been downloading alot of music lately. I'm going home soon and I'm going to be dealing with alot of stress from thinking too much. So much stuff that's gonna happen. A weird singer I've found, Joanna Newsom. What a bizzarre but enchanting style. My spelling has gone to shit, I haven't written in a while. Use it or lose it I guess. I need to get in a band whereever I go. Me and my bud here have a decent 2 person band. Guitar and Mandolin. I love the mandolin, it's so badass. I would like to see what an electric mando would sound like through distortion. Imagine playing solos in a hardcore band.
Experiencing the future is lame compared to dreaming about it.
Experiencing the past is lame compared to dreaming about it.
The grass is always greener on the other side.
We are never completely satisfied. Is this a survival instinct? It doesn't make sense. But I guess we can't just be happy and chill out in a natural opium den enviroment.
Rarely, but not so rare that it never happens, I wake up happy. Like really happy. Not a care in the world.
FACT: I like to analyze human traits and behaviors and think about why they stayed in the gene pool. Most things we do are linked to some primitive need.
I'd like live as a nomad. Never staying in one spot. Green Grass.
I'd like to live the american dream. Good money, a house, kids, dog. A neighbor that plays his music loud all the time. He's 35 years old and hangs out with college kids. He has a G.E.D. And possibly sells drugs. Green Grass.
I'd like to go back into the days of castles and knights with a sniper rifle (unlimited ammo code enabled of course.)
I like: Gin and Tonics. Coffee. Camel Lights. Post rock. Running. Cities. Smiles.
i'M GETTING better I think, at redeveloping that fluidity. That hand eye type of thing. Mind to font. Mind to font.
I hate anxiety. It's paralyzing. It makes me freeze up when people expect me to shine my brightest. My friend brought djarums for me from Hawaii. What a bad ass.
They remind me of the quiet nights playing mandolin at the smoking area in Ft. Gordon.
They remind me of a bliss that never really happened. I just romanticize what actually happens.
Night air, warm with a cool breeze. A djarum numbing my lungs.
A whole ambush of ideas and emotions. It feels great, in a melancholy type of way.
I live 13 hours into the future