j.blog

dehibernation

two things, maybe three, always take you to a place away from where you're at and who you are. dreams, music...

...and sneezing.

kimberly and i had our turns with a cold lately. i take care of her. she kisses me. she takes care of me. i wouldn't have gotten sick without her, but who would have grabbed a kleenex when i sprayed the windshield with white blood cells?

got a free one month trial membership to one of those 'download-as-many-songs-as-you-want-just-don't-burn-them-onto-a-cd' things last week, so the deluge of new music and my recent cold has really been messing with the dreams of late. i dunno if i've been me for about a week now.

oh, and hi brian. thanks for the letter.

property taxes

moving tomorrow. our first house.

i am a brand new old man.

and happy...

idle mind goes for a late night drive...

'i'm dating a girl named Beverly Hills
she gives me the pills to keep my heart still
so we kill and we steal 'til we find out what's real
and she gets the better half of the deal'

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'bored with all the beautiful boys in the bars
who borrow the blues from their burnt out guitars
daydreaming of distant downtown disasters
dancing and singing sad songs about girls they don't know'

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'she's a better kind of beautiful
it's different every hour
i don't know why she's with me
but she's coming over now
she says she's in love
but i don't think it's true
we're here in this small town
and she's got nothing better to do'

you will never read this

vanity of vanities...

welcome to the internet. the great white noise of uninformed opinion. this is my contribution.

just taking up data space on a server in a basement somewhere in silicon valley, forcing whatever internet storage company to fire another near-retiree so they can afford more bandwidth or the latest system from sun or intel or whoever. and the wheels of meaningless commerce roll on. if edison could see me now. we all have something to say, but no time to care. and here i am. proof positive that a narcissistic idiot would rather pass the wee hours of a sleepless morning sending his unoriginal thoughts out into the fray where nobody cares, than typing in word or writing in a journal or something.

or maybe the illusion that someone is listening brings out a spark in us that is too lazy to shine when we're alone. the empty auditorium. the late night radio dj. the graffiti artist. (i think it has something to do with that tree falling in the forest...) or maybe it's as simple as, 'it is 2:15 and i want to make a sound.'