Tuesday, June 8, 2010
I Want You Back.
Went to LA on Saturday. Saw one of our favorite bands, Local Natives, at the Bootleg Theater. They really put on the best live performances. Hit up Intelligentsia, which is a lovely establishment if you enjoy pretentious, condescending, intellectually superior hipsters. Which I do. 
Friday, June 4, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Oh Percocet.
Truth is so illusive nowadays. Well I guess it always was. But to me exclusively I suppose.
Is anything completely true through and through? and if you BELIEVE something to be true does it, eventually, become true?
I have a huge sore on my lip unfortunately and I had to take some percocet (HUGE BUMMER i know).
As I took a swig of water and swallowed the blessed acetaminophen, I hated you. Because hating you is like me drinking poison and waiting for it to kill you. It doesn't of course. but it slowly disintegrates me.
My bitterness,isn't the cliched chains, prison, or consistent weight thing, consuming me slowly though.
It's like a cricket stuck in my skull.
It's silent most of the time, I usually forget it's there.
Until, at most inconvenient of times, it starts chirping.
And it takes every ounce of whatever is good left in me to drown it out. Because sometimes everything in me just wants to sit back, relax, and listen. like its a grand symphony of justified truth and noble sacrifice.
leave me alone.
Is anything completely true through and through? and if you BELIEVE something to be true does it, eventually, become true?
I have a huge sore on my lip unfortunately and I had to take some percocet (HUGE BUMMER i know).
As I took a swig of water and swallowed the blessed acetaminophen, I hated you. Because hating you is like me drinking poison and waiting for it to kill you. It doesn't of course. but it slowly disintegrates me.
My bitterness,isn't the cliched chains, prison, or consistent weight thing, consuming me slowly though.
It's like a cricket stuck in my skull.
It's silent most of the time, I usually forget it's there.
Until, at most inconvenient of times, it starts chirping.
And it takes every ounce of whatever is good left in me to drown it out. Because sometimes everything in me just wants to sit back, relax, and listen. like its a grand symphony of justified truth and noble sacrifice.
leave me alone.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Happy.
I continuously thank God for Community.
The tv show, yes, because it is a wonderful depiction of the community college student's life, but also community in general. The interactions of human beings who share common interests.
Generally it would also be defined as the sharing of location as well, but with the technological advances of modern society, I suppose being a fan of "thinking someone is waving to you and you wave back like a loser" like 166,000 other people would give one some sense of community I suppose. Whatever works.
But I mean real community. Seeing the same people regularly. Sharing your life, however dull, repetitive, and involving complaints of biology tests, with the same people, who at least genuinely PRETEND to be interested. People who still love you, though usually like you slightly less, when they discover who you really are underneath the dress up clothes and paper bags and venitian masks. You experience grace in a raw and gritty form.
And I didn't know how much I needed it until I experienced it.
I used to steal grace.
To have it offered, served, poured in truckloads..is an entirely different thing.
The tv show, yes, because it is a wonderful depiction of the community college student's life, but also community in general. The interactions of human beings who share common interests.
Generally it would also be defined as the sharing of location as well, but with the technological advances of modern society, I suppose being a fan of "thinking someone is waving to you and you wave back like a loser" like 166,000 other people would give one some sense of community I suppose. Whatever works.
But I mean real community. Seeing the same people regularly. Sharing your life, however dull, repetitive, and involving complaints of biology tests, with the same people, who at least genuinely PRETEND to be interested. People who still love you, though usually like you slightly less, when they discover who you really are underneath the dress up clothes and paper bags and venitian masks. You experience grace in a raw and gritty form.
And I didn't know how much I needed it until I experienced it.
I used to steal grace.
To have it offered, served, poured in truckloads..is an entirely different thing.
Monday, April 19, 2010
the monday after.
Coachella has officially been experienced.
To the fullest.
The stealth sneaking onto other hotels shuttles.
The hanging out with Beyonce and Jay-Z.
The inhalation of more secondhand pot than in a lifetime.
The overwhelming feeling of either self-rightous hipness or self-concious inferiority of being swallowed by what looks like a gigantic american apparel ad.
The 1 am Denny's run because all the food inside the venue costs an arm and a leg.
The sketchy Motel 6 who gives you a trashed room, leaves the door open after cleaning it, and shakes all night long due to people walking by.
The pain and suffering of standing hours in the heat, sweat, and smoke yet all of it becoming completely irrelevant when the music starts.
oh yeah the music.
It would take too long to describe it all. highlightz:
Passion Pit.
LCD Soundsytem.
Vampire Weekend (though a bit TOO good. trackz.)
Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros.
the XX.
MGMT. (I'm sorry what everyone says they ARE good live.)
our dear Local Natives. I feel like a proud mother.
Julian Casablancas. (O.M.G.)
Jonsi (Who is actually probably not a real human being we decided)
Phoenix (biggest dance party ever.)
and the one and only Thom Yorke. His bearded jumping bean dancing could melt the coldest heart.
Thank God for Coachella.
P.s. the drive home was literally the valley of the shadow of DEATH.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Title Post
I steal things.
ideas, attitudes, thoughts, opinions, words. quite frequently. it's even possible most of me is made up of past thievery.
I've come to grips with this crime though, we are all guilty of it. I have slowly moved from ashamedly accepting this to willingly embracing it.
It can come in handy you know, this burglary of ideas.
Admit it, you do it too.
ideas, attitudes, thoughts, opinions, words. quite frequently. it's even possible most of me is made up of past thievery.
I've come to grips with this crime though, we are all guilty of it. I have slowly moved from ashamedly accepting this to willingly embracing it.
It can come in handy you know, this burglary of ideas.
Admit it, you do it too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
