It sounds and feels like I'm living next door to the Nation of Hawai'i Drum band.  I want to whoop on some ass right now.  Drum bands are really cool and all, but not in a suburban neighborhood.  There's a huge park less than a block from our houses.  They could have gone there. 

5:57:07 PM  #  Speak to Me []

I've been inside my home for 4 days.  I haven't moved.  I've turned off my phone.  I've kept chat clients closed.  I haven't responded to emails.  I can't seem to keep a blog chronicaling my life updated.   Instead of writing, I talk to myself.  The most productive thing I've done so far is some laundry.  The same mix has been playing for over a week.  I've registered for a grand total of zero classes for Spring semester.  I haven't opened an LA Weekly in some time.   I argue with people over the events surrounding Elliott's death, much due to the fact that I don't want to let go.  My fingernails are a vibrant red, but the personality just doesn't match.  I'm lonely, but how does someone who sits inside meet anyone? 

It seems that I've grown more attached to musical figures that the people in my physical life.  Everything is fine and dandy in my non-physical life.  Ryan Adams is crooning over a lost love, yet again.  Elliott's still breathing and has stepped away from kitchen knives to continue writing about drugs.  I can sit down to listen without hesitation or concern.   In the physical life, I sit and listen because I don't want to do anything else.  I don't want to sleep; I don't want to stay awake.  I don't want to move; I don't want to stay still. 

I'd like to take the easy way out, I suppose.


10:00:33 PM  #  Speak to Me []

Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
I'm gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
Unless you come around so come around

1:15:07 PM  #  Speak to Me []

Taken during the fires in late October. I took the boy (known in the real world as Brennan) up to Griffith Park, then down to Long Beach, then back up to Toi on Sunset. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss him.

I'm leaving for NYC on Sunday. I need stuff to do. Want something? Tell me now.

I had a great morning. Read the entire NY Times cover to cover. My afternoon was anything but so glorious. I've been home and in the worst mood all evening.

Everyone needs to buy this album. It's a serious contender for best of the year.




7:48:32 PM  #  Speak to Me []

Bush believes in a god. Lots of people do. Can you imagine what it must feel like to believe in a god? It must be awfully comforting. Sometimes I wish I believed in a god, just to make life easier. But I’ve never been able to muster that kind of arrogance. Do you recall the last time that anyone was terrorized by agnostic fundamentalists? --Dave Shulman

Taken from the 25th anniversary edition of the Los Angeles staple LA Weekly. Once, a Bible-of-sorts to many; now a weekly ménagerie of writers released from their Los Angeles Times internships.

10:56:23 AM  #  Speak to Me []

Okay okay. I've heard it from everyone. You're tired of the cartoon. I'm sorry.

Jenn-- Thank you very much for the mix cd! I've been meaning to email you.
Beth-- I promise I'm not a flake. We're getting together over the break.

My life has been at a basic lull for over a month. Lull doesn't exactly describe it. I can't put words to anything. There's so much of nothing that I couldn't possibly explain. I'm in pain attempting to construct this entry.

KCRW turned out to be okay. Beck was a brat and didn't let anyone shoot from the photo pit. Whatever. This is Liz Phair's backup guitar player. He did a whole lot of nothing. Other photos turned out great. Have I put anything up on Eyebud.com yet? Of course not.

This will be entry number 415. Too bad entry number 415 isn't much fun.



10:44:55 PM  #  Speak to Me []

10:33:52 PM  #  Speak to Me []