Paper Planes and a Leap

I'm exploding with blood and feelings.

I'm alive.

This has been a strange week, maybe it's because I was on vacation in the middle of winter, but I feel funny. Good funny. The week is already over and I don't even have work on Monday. Wahooo, thank you Kazimierz Pułaski!

And and Banjo class starts on Monday!!!

Last night I spent the better half of the night listening to booty music. I danced a lot. I used to dance so much. What the heck? I've only been in the "real world" for a year and I've already had a decrease in booty shaking. Unacceptable.

Last night I also finally started constructing my real zine, it's called "Would" and I think it might be pretty cool.

Finally the good times will only get better because it's supposed to be 48 degrees on Sunday. Hot damn!

Uncle Sam Wants You Dead

My mind is exploding with thoughts about how the "system" isn't working for me, and instead how much I'm working for it.

I stayed up late the past two nights reading this fine publication, The Realist and reading about this fine group The Black Panthers. Needless to say I'm pretty frustrated, but somehow feeling quite empowered.

I had a chat with a friend last night about how I felt cheated and naive because I believed in a lot of the garbage that has been thrown at me through the years. She answered my by saying, "well you have been reading a lot of polemic (leftist) literature (propaganda) lately. I'm sure you'll balance out your feelings when you start reading more moderate things."

Yeah, I've been hanging out over at CrimeThinc a bit lately, but this is for other reasons I will detail later. The main reason I've been seeking out papers such as The Realist and history of the Black Panthers and other allegedly "subversive" groups is because I've decided to equip myself with knowledge of the world outside of what gets pipelined into my soul by the American mass media (I use mass media loosely including, formative education, accepted cultural mores, technology, entertainment, religious centers etc.), and it turns out their's a lot they haven't been telling us.

A month or so ago I began reading the book "Democracy for the Few" by Michael Parenti. Mr. Parenti received his PhD. in Political science from Yale University. The book exposes the truth about the American government, which is of course rotten to the core. Now it would be easy to say HEY all that crap is polemic propaganda and leftist BS. The government has our interests in mind! Then you read a book that supplies you with information that says otherwise and then provides hundreds upon hundreds of citations, statistics, and official investigations to back up these "crazy leftists arguments" and you can't just ignore the wrongs or chalk them up to crazy conspiracy theories.

I've never been a fan of extremes in anything. I feel as though running all the way in one direction causes one to lose perspective. I'm not blindly accepting anything. I'm doing my research and I'm looking at facts. Facts about this "system" that make me not want to be a part of it. Facts that make me want to actively fight against it.

I feel naive that I've accepted many of these matrices of thinking quietly. Want to know what I'm talking about reading "Democracy for the Few" is a great place to start. I'm sure this isn't the last you will hear from me about this, BUT I can't just keep such huge paradigm shifts in my everyday way of thinking to myself. The world isn't as it appears.

Being exposed to truth can be a harrowing experience. Now that I know I'm a much worse person if I ignore these ills and go about my daily life. I'd love for someone to convince me otherwise.

Viva La Revolution!

Power Hour

Vacations are great times. S. and I hop on trains and planes tonight and tomorrow. We're tired and excited.

We were (we) a lot this week and it went ten times better than I thought. I like him thirty times more than I thought.

Now all I need is some springy sunny weather.

Finally

Vacation starts today at six o'clock. I couldn't sleep last night because I was so excited.

I'm so excited.

Huzzah!

Anarchy is for Lovers

Look at that face ... I totally dig this kid. He makes me want to be a better person. I love him from the tips of my fingers to the tops of my toes, but I don't need no stinking day to remind me of that.

Also, here's a really interesting article on why you shouldn't buy Roses for that special someone ... Where Did Those Roses Come From?

Landlocked Blues

If I can make it through this winter I can make it through anything.

I used to be actively engaged with music. Somehow, somewhere I fell off the wagon.
I miss turning up Braid and screaming the words at the top of my lungs. I miss the feeling of someone singing about how I felt when I thought no one else thought that way. I can't remember the last time I purchase a c.d. or downloaded one for that matter. I LOVE MUSIC, what happened!

This kind of weather makes you wonder about yourself. What the hell am I doing here sitting wrapped up in blankets. Shouldn't I be saving the world, or at least finishing one of the eight books I'm reading?

Beam me up Scotty

It's 7 o'clock on a Saturday and I'm watching Star Trek and playing online Scrabble ...

Go ahead and call me a geek, I don't care, it's cold out.

Whipped Wind. Red Face.

This morning I walked a mile with hail whipping me in the face. Chicago, I'm done with you.

Well, Whoopi, I'm glad you asked ...

You are the bicycle thief, and I'm knee deep in shit.
Well, I'll steal your pretty little head. Because I guess,
Even though I hate to admit,
You stole my everything else.


Have you ever struggled to find yourself independent of everyone else? If you haven't you're probably dependent.

Writing is a solitary exercise. But some people say nah, it's not. Well it is, and I'm okay with that, but that doesn't mean it's not lonely.

I don't think I'll ever know where to put all the commas and semi-colons. I just don't.


Mmm, The Moldy Peaches, I completely dig these cats. They are really good at articulating what I feel about this often silly, occasionally profound world. Also, Whoopi owns The View. She is amazingly smart about the way she approaches every single topic, and she's sassy as hell. Surprise!

Do do do do do do do doo doodoooooo

Countdown to Banjo class!

I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else but you*

Bitter Heart, Sweet Heart, Bitches in Tokyo.

Last night I went to bed in an altered state.

I slept so sweet on someone else's couch.

How much does a pound of feathers weigh?

Two tons of feathers fell over night, and they became heavy weights that stuck to my feet.

With a light heart I trudged through white walls, stinging eyes.

Then I daydreamed that we skipped town. We made a break for the equator, and assumed new identities.

We wore bright colors and swam with jelly fish. We danced on top of stars and dressed in purple kool-aid
mustaches.

We were bizarre and lewd.
Man,
we laughed so hard, slapped our knees, and made up our own rules.

Then I remembered once you broke my heart, and maybe you'd do it again.

That damn bus came to a halt. Those feathers melted down to my toes and soaked me with sloppy snow.

Let's just pretend we don't existence....

I just can't help what I feel.


You know that bad mood (from earlier in the week?), that shit is shook. I'm in an amazing mood (despite the blizzard that fell onto my town) and I'm ready to start this weekend. I'm ready to paint towns and steal masterpieces. MAN, I want to dance. Let's dress up and just groove till all our limbs fall off. Let's sing at the top of our lungs till the snow melts into a glittering olympic sized lap pool. It's February already. Where did all the time go?

Remember when everything moved in slow motion? We were all fresh faced kittens waiting for eighth period macroeconomics to get over, because Mister Zeller's breath smelled like vodka and he kept sticking it three inches from our face. It felt like the more we stared at the clock the slower it went. Fifty minutes felt like fifty hours. We'd all have been happy to let him go drink off his flask in the teacher's lounge if he'd just defy gravity and let us out to go smoke doobies in our basements and eat McDonalds french fries!

Speaking of McDonald's ... I've been clean for 31 days. I'm going to be honest, at times, it was tough. Some days I just wanted some cheap morning coffee or afternoon french fries, but I stood strong and I can now say I'm clean. I believe I've broken my awful McDonald's addiction. I know big deal ... BUT it was a lot harder than I imagined. Those "things" are everywhere and it's so easy to just pop in and grab a snack. Let's just see how February goes before I become an addiction counselor!