dan le sac vs scroobius pip - fixed

grandfather died, only drank 5 or so days out of the last 4 weeks - personal best for me since i turned 21, rode 75 miles this week, works okay, schools okay, lifes okay

girls on the horizon

shit isn't as bad as it was

but i don't have the energy to describe it

third floor in horn, a.c. overhead

my grandfather is getting worse.

it's a very somber time right now. i haven't done anything in 3 or 4 days. haven't drank. haven't gone out. haven't really done much except work and sleep and ride my bike.

he's in the hospital and they aren't operating on him. that's bad news no matter what. today, my mom told me that he won't be able to see or talk - if he recovers. he's dying. i knew it when i first heard about the stroke (not know, know - but got that terrible feeling), and everyday it's just becoming more clear.

i'm sure the docs are doing everything they can, but it's a losing battle. if i was a religious person - and times like this kinda make you question your agnostic/atheist tendencies - i would be praying. but there's not much i can do. i was going to drive up with my cousin to maine, but my mom said not to bother. they are all just sitting around, waiting.

it's a terrible thing to wait, especially if you are waiting to see if someone is going to live or die.

i'm probably going to be up until 4am again tonight. without alcohol i can't fall asleep. i'll smoke my last bowl tonight too. the real hell with begin as i detox completely from weed and alcohol. then i'll be angry, moody, frustrated, antisocial, just an all out bore.

and then i'll have to go to a funeral (...) in that state. the temptation to drink will be high, very high. i'll probably have to score a bag sometime this week. it'll happen, if i want it to or not. isn't that what they say at AA? you're powerless?

whatever.

i'm thinking of you Grandpa.

been a while...

things haven't been so good this past week.

let's go through them real quick:

labor day, got arrested for writing graffiti. spent 12 hours sleeping on a concrete floor with peter, the heroin addict. (he was cool though, actually.)

boss wants my program to be finished, so i had to bust my ass to get work done. decided to stop drinking - been sober for 3 days now. worked 20 hours in 3 days, effing a lot for me.

told my parents about the arrest and the fact that i'm not graduating on time, plus i have a problem with alcohol.

they are pissed. very, very pissed. i'll have to pay for the extra credits needed to graduate. not cool, not cool at all.

then, last night, my grandfather suffered a major stroke. it doesn't look like they are going to operate on him, but it's becoming clear to me that he'll never be the same person that i knew him before.

i feel so much guilt for not sending my thank you note for his birthday present to me.

c'est la vie...

stupid boy

you stupid boy,
you think the pain that you feel
outweighs the love that you steal

you stupid boy
you made her cry
and now you say that you want to die

you stupid boy

in search
of some far fetched
deep hidden meaning

but everybody
just wants to know,
hey man, how have you been

really,
they ask

when you look so far away
like you're searching for something to say
but your lips don't move
and all theses years
you only disappear
whenever we get near

you stupid boy,
time took you up
and spit you out
and you think it treated you bad
and you're always so sad,
but kid you know,
you know,
you just got to hold on

bob dylan - mr. tambourine man

as i fall further and further
into a coma where
i can feel nothing

i can only be amazed
that i can afford
to live
such a wasteful,
disgusting
lifestyle

this is the point
where i will probably forget
the horrors that
i've done to myself,
but now i don't
care

all the evils that i bear
are nobody's fault
but my own, that i know
that i've learned
but can barely handle

my dream girl

since my personality gets in the way of finding that girl i've been dreaming about, i'm going to take my chances with this faux pas. yes, i'm aware it stinks of desperation but whatever, the right girl is worth it. i'm looking for a girl with the following characteristics, including but not necessarily limited to (in no real order):
- you draw, paint, write, play or act. or any other verbs not relating to money.
- enjoy sleeping with your head where your feet should go
- you prefer the countryside over the city
- you've done double the speed limit. (triple: bonus points.)
- are in the process of becoming well read.
- you've ever disappeared completely
- prefers/tolerates buds
- you're not perfect. if you are, you probably stopped reading this to call your boyfriend whose 5 years your senior (coughpatheticcough)
- seeking to understand the human psyche, but realize the futility of the mission
- you're partial to staying up all night and sleeping all day
- willing to get into fisticuffs over your favorite bands. (extra credit if you listen to elliott smith, beck, radiohead or ben folds five)
- your favorite states include: maine, vermont, new hampshire and awkward
- you ski or ride (and not pre-season.) if you freeheel, i might ask you to marry me.
- you can crack a good joke and you know that the best humor comes from those that have felt the worst
- i'm not a big fan of churches, but if you can shake the hate and keep the soul, i'm down.
- your favorite ben and jerry's is fossil fuel. if you like magic brownies, don't even bother.
- you don't fit into a few of these. if you fit into all of them, that's like dating myself. and that's creepy.

if you think you fit this, please check the 'yes' box with your favorite color crayon and slip it into my desk while i'm out on recess. then meet me at the swings.

untitled story (from the netherlands files)

december 1999, sunday night in a small maine town. two teenagers lie under the covers of a twin bed. she rests her head on his shoulder; they both look out the window. it is a new moon and the cold air seeps through the window panes. the moon is their first in a long time and familiar hands feel strange after being apart from so long.

he is thin like a runner. he does not look particularly healthy. you can count his ribs, little hills under skin stretched like play dough about to burst. she's slender, poised and slightly insecure. beautiful to him. light, pale skin that reflects the moonlight, alert brown eyes that she keeps open and wide. she wears her heart on short sleeves.

'everybody wants to know where you've been,' she says, looking up at him - but he is looking out the window at the birch trees at the edge of her yard.

'college, work... i don't know'

'you never write'

'nothing to really say'

she grabs his hand, sandwiching it with her hands. she opens and expands his fingers, bends them back and forth. she studies his hands. they are clean but calloused, they have been used and abused. there are long, slender scars on the fingers and what looks to be burn scars on the back of the hands. 'i missed you,' she says.

he's quiet. he looks sullen, sad, lonely. 'i missed you, too.'

'why don't you write? why don't you call?'

he lit his joint. a small, thin joint that he cradled between his fingers in a style that dictates he has done this for years. he lays back, falling into the bed even more. she rearranges her head, he is careful not to blow smoke anywhere near her. he doesn't offer her a hit because he knows that answer already.

'i don't know'

he exhales slowly. she feels his body relax, sink into the bed. it feels like his body is about to disappear into itself. she rearranges herself, pushing her body into his.

'you're a fucking puzzle you know,'

he takes a long pull on the joint and starts to blow smoke rings. his adam's apple moving up and down quickly as his tongue pushes out carefully measured puffs of air. the ring leaves his mouth at a fast rate and gradually slows down until it hangs motionless in the moonlight. 'fucking tell me about it.' he says. 'but fuck me, how are you doing? hows life? what's it like coming home?'

'whatever...' she says dropping his hand. 'you never talk about yourself. it's like pulling teeth with you, you never say anything about yourself. what's going on in that head of yours? why don't you ever say what the hell is bothering you?'

'because you don't want to hear it'

'well i'm asking you'

'i can't stand myself.' she stares at him in silence. he tries to circumscribe the moon with a smoke ring, but he fails to achieve the proper trajectory. 'and,' he continues, 'you really should stay away, because i will only make you cry. even your parents agree with me.'

in the silence the moon slides across the window. they both watch, content in each others presence but not willing to look into each others eyes.

'tell me a story,' she asks quietly.

'what kind,' he says without hesitation - 'a real one or a made up one?'

'real.'

he takes a pull, exhales slowly. 'well, i don't know... my real stories always end up sad.'

'then tell me something that makes you happy.'

'okay...,' he says and starts to think. you can tell that he is thinking because he furrows his brow together and stares off into the distance real hard. you'd laugh if you didn't want to hear what he had to say. 'okay, i got it.'

she smiles.

'it's a story about dogs.' he took another long hit, she smiles and rolls her eyes. 'stop fucking around! i'm being serious' he says, looking at her.

'just tell the story,' she shuts her eyes and pushes into his shoulder. they are both quiet for a while.

'okay... it's a story about two dogs, alley and ripley, who are best friends. their parents work together at a hospital. they met for the first time at the hospital when they were attending a cookout (as guests of honor, no doubt.) that day they swam in the pond on the hospital grounds. they have been best friends ever since.

alley is the older, wiser, more focused dog. ripley is wild, crazy, runs away, has been brought home by the police - definitely the wild child. i imagine alley saying something like: "let's go dig holes in the yard!" and as they both trot over to the yard, ripley suddenly says: "let's go swimming!!!!!"

when ripley came over to my house for a sleepover, he would not calm down. literally. he'd just run and run and run, and if you stopped paying attention to him he would start to howl. i think he missed his parents. ripley drove me crazy, but there was no way i could let a dog like that feel lonely, so i spent the whole night sleeping on the floor with him so he would be quiet.

the next day ripley had to go home and alley was very sad. i later heard from ripley's parents that ripley howled for the rest of the day. however, this is not a sad ending because they are still best friends and they still go swimming in the pond pretty much every week.'

she smiles. 'that was nice.' he grins.

he says a few lines from a song, she rolls her eyes. 'how can you respect a cracked out, heroin junkie who recovered, only to later stab himself in the heart over some petty bullshit?'

'he made beautiful music.'

'your prophet is a pop artist?'

'well he wasn't really pop, i guess...'

'yeah... but is that all you want out of life?'

'i just want to make this world a better place... what about you?'

'i don't want to be alone'

'me either'

'why aren't you with someone?'

'i guess i haven't found the right someone'

'you've been searching long enough'

'i know'

'there are probably a thousand girls in love with you'

'i doubt that'

'you can't be like that, you need to choose, you can't just run around saying that you are going to solve all of the world's problems, you're just going to burn out like you did before.'

he looks down at her for a moment, then looks away, back out the window

'when are you going back to boston?'

'tuesday -'

they are both quiet for an extended period of time. eventually, he falls asleep.

he snores like a dog. out of nowhere, a sucking in of air that continues and you wonder if he is about to die, but he keeps breathing in like he hasn't breathed for years. and then the exhale, loudly, one of the few things that he ever does loudly.

heavily edited so i could fit it into my aim profile - "color commentary before she met me"

this girl gave me the peace sign in the other lane and i haven’t been the same, like good poetry or living metaphysically, this beauty just destroys me

i’m a confused bohemian: i make business decisions and dream of classy women, blow smoke rings on my neighbors’ lawn at dawn with thoughts full of vagaries like i’m losing the war, i’m scared of the fee and there’s silence constantly

i counteract didactic tactics from concerned pneumatics with grammatical back flips and hash hits, but they look at me with sad eyes when it rains and i hope it pours and always want more but these things really shouldn’t be told

lyrically ambitious but i spark red bics to kill the sickness, killed all my hate with a glass bong, now just want to move on from this fear from early on when the girls called me a leprechaun

i run color commentary on the silence around me, poetry that only seems to me to be about being lonely - almost enough to lose faith in the philosophy that one day she’ll see through my misanthropy

lots of love to give but anxiety mixed in with negative thoughts so i choose to not take part, just leave art - subsist on these big dreams that only leave me with one two three four pairs of ribs sticking out of my cage

in which, i seem to be stuck on melancholy, on which, a friend, just a friend, whispered once to me: you’re like sleeping next to a bag of bones and all i could do was agree

with the girls that gave all their love away and the guys that just wanted to get laid any way but this isn’t really true either and i'm still doing basic math, divide, divide, divide, all of you into little groups in an attempt to sort through the things we do

searching for the directions to that synthesis of little meanings that rubs the sleep out of my eyes as i’m aiming for that inaccessible point in the sky, this asymptotic line of articulation - but each time i fall short, and all i want to know now is how much more it will take until i can finally turn to her and say... hey

nothing

the vt tech tragedy moved me on a lot of different levels. it reminded me of columbine, as well as a lot of other things. i really don't want to say much more because honestly, it's just far too sad. even for a sad bastard like me.

but if you want an unwatchable, curling video -

http://mashable.com/2007/04/16/virginia-tech-shootings/

i don't know why this was posted, i think its bad form. but like almost anything, if you stifle this shit, it will only get more popular.

i'm sorry if you never seen it and have now been introduced to it - but i feel the same way. again, i'm sorry.

sublime - boss dj

i fucking hate how songs are cast away as being just songs about heroin, or other drugs. they see a needle and think it couldn't be anymore meaningful. well open up your mind, there's more to these songs that you ever thought possible. and i don't do heroin. i don't even do coke or take illegal prescribed pills.

for instance, boss dj by sublime, constantly misinterpreted and ignored as being "just about heroin." no - fuck you, there is something more to that song that everyone, not just junkies, could learn from.

there's a steel train coming through, i would take it if i could
and i would not lie to you because sunday morning soon will come

when things will be much easier to say
upon the microphone like a boss dj
but i won't walk up upon the sea like it was dry land
boss dj aint nothing but a man
no trouble, no fuss, i know why

it's so nice, i wanna hear the same song twice
it's so nice, don't wanna hear the same song twice

rumors are spreading all over town
but its just stones and sticks,
upon the microphone is where i go to get my fix

just let hte loving take a hold cuz it will if you let it
i'm funky not a junkie but i know where to get it

ooee girl and there really aint no time to waste
really aint no time to hate
aint got no time to waste, time to hate
really aint no time to make the time go away

so mister dj dont stop the music,
i wanna know,
are you feelin the same way too?

i wanna rock it with you-ou girl,
you-ou girl, you-ou girl, oooooo
mmmmmhmmmhhmmm
dont stop

cuz its so nice i wanna hear the same song twice,
its so nice i wanna hear the same song twice

nowadays all the songs on the radio,
they all,
all drive me crazy

-

he's trying to defend himself against people that just ignore him because he uses heroin. look, i'm no perfect person myself, i suffer from a few addictions - not to mention your legal, alcoholic one, but i will still listen to anyone that gets up on the microphone. i won't push anyones voice off to the side because they have resorted to drugs to hold onto their mind.

yes, they suffer from a disease, but fuck you, it's not all about the drugs. they take drugs for a fucking reason, maybe you should look and see just what has ailed him so much. maybe, to your startling conclusion, you will see that it is people like you anti-drug people that have made him so sad, so desperate, left feeling so alone when he had such genius.

maybe you are the true junkies. maybe you are just to blame for destroying beautiful lives as the heroin itself.

afroman - colt 45 and two zig zags

you know what drives me nuts? the one thing that is killing legal weed in amsterdam/netherlands isn't the fact that it's weed - it's the fact that it's second hand smoke! now call me fucking nuts, but if i worked at a coffee shop selling herb all day, i'd consider that a fucking benefit to working there.

inspired by bill hicks standup - rip, my good man

so i went into the liquor store yesterday, put the 30 rack on the counter and they asked for an id - because i looked like i was 12. (i was, i had a fake, but anyway.) it's damn good thing that they asked, because otherwise, i never would have started drinking before i was 21.

okay, i lied, i never had a fake at 12. i never had a fake actually, because the government realize it was easy as shit to reproduce them and finally pulled their head out of their asses and put some technology into them.

but you know what? there's always going to be a certain percentage of kids that are going to want to get fucked up, long, long, long before they turn that magical age of 21 where suddenly everyone whose fucking 21 years old is adult enough to realize the true horrors of alcohol. that's why we never have any drunken drivers killing innocent people.

yeah, the systems fucked. but everyone thinks that they can fix it by running PSAs and carding kids. you idiots. i figured out that i could brew beer legally before i turned 21. how the hell is that legal?

but either way, since i had a hard time getting alcohol hookups - and stealing from my parents just couldn't cover it - i turned to other endeavors. such as marijuana.

glorious, glorious marijuana.

i started smoking at 14, smoked it daily during the summers, then once i hit college, smoked it daily ever since. and thank god i started with pot because by then i had enough substance abuse training to realize when i turned into a alcoholic once i turned 21 and it suddenly became legal to destroy my body.

so maybe it should stay illegal, and maybe the world should continue to waste billions of dollars - not in just police money, but wasted revenue that you could get from making it legal and taxing it.

wait - no. that's a terrible idea. billions of dollars wasted just so you can live in your little magical mystery world where pot is a Schedule I drug and alcohol isn't even listed.

this country sickens me so much with their idiotic, asinine, down right backwards policies.

elliott smith - king's crossing

almost 10am, making bad decisions right now. but i've got this feeling that i've turned the corner somehow, realized something new. i know this doesn't make much sense to you, right now...

been thinking a lot about a new article that i'll be writing for my college newspaper. i've spent the last two years or so writing blog posts/comments about my school. honestly, it's probably one of the most successful ventures i've worked on. people actually seem to listen to blog posts by an anonymous author, which i find to be completely hilarious. but it's just also a sign of the times - any loony with something significant to say can be heard, and can impact an organization - even if it's something as large as a college with a hundred million in the bank. or at least, i think i have changed my school - but knowing my mind, i could have just made that up.

crossing the line from anonymous posting to legitimate reporting is proving to be hard, i've got a bunch of apologies to make. but i'm excited about it, i'm ready for it.

not much else to say... hopefully i pull up sometime today so i can actually get some real work done.

take care -

lifesavas - state of the world

so my laptop is all fucked up. the keyboard, at least. after the major beer spillage (number two of the year), the it folks replaced the keyboard. that's great. but now the only problem is that the keys seem to be wired to weird things. for example, s mutes the sound, w raises it, volume up button turns on caps lock.

i have no idea how to fix this. i'll have to bring it in again and let them figure it out.

life is strange. i'm pretty stressed about my job. i really need to finish up this project so i can have a part time job during the school year, otherwise i'm just not going to have enough money. i've got a small developing thing lined up with some guys, which will be cool to do, but that will only give me so much. i've got addictions that need to be fed, ya know.

anyway, i'm in bangor for the time being. it's been so good to be back in maine, even if for only a few days. been hanging out with fox and ben, drinkin, lokin, generally having fun. fox has two cats. i want a cat so bad, they're so pwn to just chill with.

should get back to work now

otis redding - sittin on the dock of the bay

in the library, waiting for my windowsupdate to finish. it's been quite the two weeks.

i had red sox tickets last weeks, invited a friend of mine to the game, but couldn't find his place, ended up missing the game. effing sucked hardtime. then i got pretty sick for a couple of days after that and couldn't do any work (granted, this was completely my fault.) pulled up outta that funk, then promptly spilled beer on my laptop and ruined it.

terrible feeling. thought i was going to lose all my data. 24 nervous hours later i got my data back, but lost all my programs. oh well. not a huge deal. however, as i was walking out of the IT center a copper approached me. asked me for my registration... turns out mine was expired.

my car got booted then and there and i had to walk 10 miles home. in sandals. i have blisters on the bottom of my feet the sizes of half dollars - no lie, they are disgusting. so i was sans car and sans walking ability for a few days. only could order dominos - course, i barely ate that even still. tried to do work, couldn't get much shit done.

luckily, i got my car back, my computer is slowly getting back to its previous state. oh, and my boss gave me a new laptop - effing awesome. a vaio vgn-fz160e. lots of ram, fast processor, tons of space. the screen is georgeous. unfortunately, the sound doesn't work so i can't play movies, but whatever, i'm not complaining.

so yeah, from bad, to worse, to bad, to okay. i plan on going up to maine tomorrow to spend a couple of days with friends, then bomb back down to boston for a facebook developers meeting, then more or less of the same.

hopefully i'll get up the nerve to call up this girl i've been meaning to ask out for a while. even if nothing comes of it, at least i'll have someone to hang out with. been lonely as hell for a while.

peace.

elliott smith - don't go down

it's been a long time since i've posted.

things aren't going all that well.

lots of big dreams, more bad decisions.

i fired up 127.0.0.1 one day and found this...

'i think i just made you up so i could hurt myself'

i put it there, but i don't remember doing it. quite sad, probably says a lot about me.

oh well.

lifesavas - what if it's true

ugh. rainy day in boston and i'm about to start a serious coding session. on shit i don't really care about. great. i spend my time doing work for other people on projects i don't care about - just to get paid. welcome to life, i guess, but if this is life, this is pretty disappointing.

of course, this is nothing new. for me or you, i guess.

on a more optimistic note, the 4 hour workweek is going to really change my life i think.

on an optimistic slash disappointing note, http://www.miamiherald.com/457/story/127744.html.

elliott smith - go by

been a few days since i posted. facebook platform is taking over my life. i want to quit my job, move back home, and code it endlessly. but i've bullshit to pretend to do.

fucking a.

nine inch nails - survivalism

oh shit


oh shit


oh shit



facebook platform is EXACTLY WHAT I EXPECTED IT TO BE.

absolutely amazing, stunning. fucking swears

i'm not sleeping for 2 days, i can already feel it. i'm so excited about this.

toucher and rich on wbcn

well - today hasn't been so productive, mostly because of last night.

first, i got to the middle east at the perfect time. the two non-headliners just ended their sets - although, i wish i arrived just a bit earlier to catch them. buck65 took the stage and rocked it hard. pretty sure every song was new - nothing off 'secret house against the world.' the crowd was loving it, he's def got some serious potential.

sage francis really took control of the crowd. heard some old songs, some new songs. he had a guy doing some spoken word in the middle - that was an absolutely utter diaster. later it was obvious he purposely tried to make it a diaster (he was pretending to be hardcore republican basically) - but it pissed people off in the crowd. waste of time. he came back at the end and gave a really good poem, so that made up for it, but still. anyway, sage francis, kicked it.

can't wait to see both of them at rock the bells. one side note: i saw buck65 standing off to the side, sorta not on stage, not in the crowd, looking pretty sad that sage francis was rocking the crowd more then he did. kid needs to cheer up, he's got more skill then francis, he just doesn't write tunes for the radio.

anyway, drank some beers there then went out to pizza with barisser. had a good time - we'll be drinking sometime soon. should be tonight, but i stayed out so late that i woke up really late, missed the babson post office hours so i couldn't get my SAS book. today was supposed to be a reading day... now i'm basically working from 6pm to midnight to get my quota in. fuckin a.

BUT FACEBOOK PLATFORM IS DROPPING! can't wait!

brother ali - champion (remix)

it's a sunny day in boston, i rolled up into the library to begin billing hours feeling like a champion. my rss reader is filling up nicely, trying to not let it get too crazy. after a few days of adding feeds, i'm starting to realize i really only need top quality bloggers like scroble. there's a lot of boring, useless, mediocre shit out on the interwebs, those guys can sort through it for me.

going to see a show tonight - sage francis and buck 65. it's at the middle east - which i don't actually think i've seen a show at, been downstairs a few times. i'm pumped though. i think i will see them again at rock the bells with rage against the machine. THAT show is going to be all out insane - on my birthday, no less.

smashing pumpkins - tarantula

i can't stop listening to the new smashing pumpkins single (listen here).

been trying to wrap my head around the lyrics:

I don’t wanna fight
Every single night
Everything I want is in your light
You and me go there
To places I don’t know to care
The spoils of all I’ve got were left to scrounge

Don’t let me say this,
but you’re no worse than me,
It’s crazy

We are real, if real ever was, just because
We all feel, feel we’ve had enough,
I’m real, ‘cause someone gave us sound

I wanna be there when you’re happy
I wanna love you when you’re sad,
Can’t stand the morning rain

Get out and take your place then
Can’t stand the blazing sun
Then close your eyes you’ll see
The angel die.

I don’t want to be
Anything for these
A million watts of sound can’t compare

Come along you’ll see the world
The pulse ripples, the crowd unfolds
The current starts to flow and they are on

Oh it’s a white hot soul they want
sinful

You’re real, if real ever was, it’s just because
You’re real, every living soul
Yes I’m real, ‘cause someone gave us sound

Don’t break the oath
I want to love you when you’re happy,
Don’t break this oath
I want to be there when you’re sad
Please bring the pouring rain.

You’re real, as real as any ghost,
It’s easy now,
I’m real, in every living soul
God gave us

Can’t stand the blazing sun
Can’t stand the morning rain
Get out and take your places

I don’t want to be alone
I don’t want to be alone
I don’t want to be alone

If it’s a white hot soul they want
It’s a black heart they’ll get

anyway, about to bill some hours in the library. still feeling very excited about what facebook is up to, i've mocked up 2 apps that i've been working on in my domespace for a bit. hopefully if platform is good and integrates really well into facebook, well, it's going to be very interesting.

FIRST

first post. going to keep expectations low and not try to do anything intelligent, except to say that i'm fist-pumping-excited about facebook's new platform. i've got a ton of ideas that i want to throw at facebook's established base of users. i've found it's just damn hard/expensive to get users to your site, hopefully by connecting with facebook i'll get some more visitors/testers.

and i'm done, peace.