I Know It's Over

Is a blog a personal reflection device?
Or is it a platform, a soapbox, to be heard from.

If there was ever a song to sum up a situation, as of now, I'd believe it to be this song.


"Loud, loutish lover treat her kindly. Though she needs you more then she loves you."
I could go on quoting this song for the rest of this blog, but that's no fun.

I could also go on and explain the situation but, then again, whats the point.
This life is so cyclical it makes me sick.
It's akin to the teacups.
before they added that Anti G-force device.
Where it still spins wildly out of control yet locked in the same section.
Things don't change
they may get crazy
but in the end when you go home, vous allez dormir seul

Melencholic Depression, the loud, ugly annoying fat friend of the hot girl that no one wants at the party, so bona to vada!
Been a while, ol' chap, good to see you back to your old ways.



And those days will come again.
But not for me.

I Want The One I Can't Have

EDIT:I put in a video where you can see his hair.
I wish I could redo grad night now because my hair looks better now.



WTF is this shit man?
I'm gonna take my brain, and heart, out back and beat them to within an inch of their lives for doing this to me.
damnit.


So, continuing from yesterday, I only slept for
maybe 4 hours over the course of the last few days.
I like it.
I feel like Richard Hell
"I belong to the ____ generation"
yaaa
There's little bits of us still out there that we have yet to collect.

Yesterday was Ashday.
It was zerrrr to the maxxx
I said "NO" to rehersal(Similar to the way all of you should say NO! to retro) and hung out with Ashley instead
damnit
I'm so glad I did.
Don't ever tell anyone that.
You can tell everyone I'm glad I hung out with Ashley, just don't tell anyone I ditched rehearsal to do it.
If Al finds out he'll kick my ass.


Last night
while I was attaining my repose and my few hours of numerous lowercase Zs
I had a vision quest.
well, it was a dream.
but still
It was me as of now,
I pulled up to a stop light
In the E.Vill Doer
Listening to The Smiths no doubt,
and sitting in a car across from me was me three years ago.
You know
the "Hot" Al
with the big curly hair
and the...
well this one

The one who never, ever did drugs and claimed he never would
the one who was happy and content (YEAH RIGHT!) in a relationship,
that one.
and as I looked at myself then I realized that although I may be an
empty shell of what I was at that point in my life,
I'm happy now.
damnit.
I'm happy.
and even though the me then and the me now would probably have gotten out of the car and had the bitchest gayest most Jewish fist fight of all time, I can still say that I'm happy.


The me of the past looked at the me of now and said "Dude....really? that's where this goes?"
and then I said something along the lines of
"Yeah, enjoy that now, because it don't last."
You know why The Smiths are the greatest band of all time?
Because Morrissey can relate to any situation.
I want the one I can't have.
and It's driving me mad.






Damnit.

Piccadilly Palare

Did Morrissey ever do hard drugs?
he should have.
I truly can't believe my life has come to this.
Oh woe is me.

woe is me.

I'm no more a villian or part of the seedy underbelly of San Diego then you are truly gone sir.

keep that in mind ;)

no but seriously man, this is some strange fucking times.
haha
yaaaa it's freaky deeky.

There are so many Smiths lyrics that apply to this situation.
But I won't list them.
I shall choose the path of least Coincidence for the title of this blog.
it should be I know it's over.
ok
ok
I won't
I promise.
it will be
obviously.



so
shut your mouth.
listen to that as you read.



Shrooms, I've come to realize are something that can only truly be explained if they're just done.


It feels drippy.
I stood their, in the middle of the room, alone,
tired
lurching
back and forth
like a big sonic titan

lurching across a war torn battlefield.

All around me scuttling were little plague infested vermins

their fight was so meaningless.

so miniscule compared to mine.

I was a huge reever titan.

they were nothing compared to me.

I was forged of steel and fire an excade ago in a far off netherverse.

this is epic.

this is zer.

I, charged in unlight.
black monolith.
I was wrethed in weed and shrooms.
and it was amazing.



hahaha fuck you see?!
I think i'm in love with my bestfriend.
and this is all in 3d.
wow.
this is amazing.
this is the blog version of Skwisgaar Skwigelf from Metalocolypse.
Justeverythign amazingggg.
muahah!

actually
that bit
should have some sort of Doom Temple feel
so once oyu are done listening to that
listen to this




(my god this blogpost will confuse so many)
Give this a download
Sleep
Dopesmoker
420 puff puffff


yeah
thats really a 1 hour long song.
it's almost as trippy as....

anything on Shrooms!
wow!

My year in lists.

No body reads this thing.
Thank G-d
This is the bleakest place in the world
It's so bleak it even got it's own bleak album cover,
AW YA! BLEAAK!!
SUPER BLEAK!
FUCK ZER UP BLEAK!
Check this out! how bleak is this!



AW YEAH! THAT'S SO FUCKIN BLEAK!
yeah I'm high and having a word trip on Bleak.
that's really happening right now.
But actually this album title is really bleak.
this is the blog version of that scene from The Warriors where the Prom dates get on the Subway towards the end of the night and Swan And Mercy are sitting there all beat the fuck up, and there's that awkward, uncomfortable moment.
yeah
this is that scene
in blogform.



I feel like my blog is the internet version of that guy at the bar drunk off his ass and talking to himself.
That's me.
I'm the Forgetting Sarah Marshall of the internet.
Yay.
And thank G-d thats me.
I can drop gigantic bombs about my life and no one would be none the wiser!
I could say things like
"I hate my self a little more each day, and think I wasted the last two years of my life"
or
"I really like someone I barely know, and doubt they feel the same way about myself"
and no one would know!
Not a single solitary soul!
Not ONE! MEASLY FUCKING CREAT-

Ehem.
You know what just listen to this.
This band mops the floor with your fucking brain you pansy bitch
BOW!
TO THE MIGHTYNESS!
THE ZEREST MOST THRASHINZER DANGZEREST BAND!
LOS!
CAMPENSINOS!!!

(Oh my blog comes complete with twists, you best believe it. Suck on that poisen like bbd first cassette.)

That, ^ up there, is the best new album of the willenia.
I've sorta lost myself in this blog, I should go dig myself out.
here
here's an album for you fine folks to download when you smoke the cheeba

Click here




AH HA!
YOU FREELOADIN BASTIDS!
YOU GOTTA BUY THAT ONE!
No but seriously, you should deffinently, defenantly, definitely, there we go, definitely get that album, it's amazing.






I Don't think anyone even clicks those albums anyways.
well heres one that you assholes might like.
Wall Of Sound music

A Place To Bury Strangers



Alright.
Good job.
Well done.
Mazel Tov.
Don't forget to come see my play.
I'm a cracked actor.

ZER! ZER FUCKING ZERNESS!

EPIC FUCKING ZER!

Assassin!

Totally crazy ZER THRASH!

This shit will fuckin blow you from behind, like totally push your cock down and then suck it.

Hard.

The first album is Interstellar Experience(I know it's kinda hard to read)

tracks 1-8 are off I.E. and tracks 9-whatever are off of The Upcoming Terror.

ZERZERZERZER!

GETITGETITGETIT!

Damaged Goods.

I should change this blog name to I Ruin Everything.

I'm sick to death of everything having a reprocussion. Goddamnit for once I would love to do something without anyone caring.

Call it kar- no wait fuck that.

If I wasn't the Lothario of SCPA, fuck that of life, then the fuck else would it be.

Exactly, FUCKING NO ONE.

So I was shoveling through the shit of the past and found these lame ass blogs I wrote a year ago.

The first one, aptly named Blog 3, I'll be giving commentary through out.

(I Thought this was a pretty funny intro, so I wrote it down while on the bus)

I've started writing blogs because keeping a diary is just to damn gay.

 

if i was gonna start keeping a diary, i picture myself laying on my stomach with my legs bent up at the knee and crossed at the anklewith my cat on my ass.


No


Fuck that

I'll write this blog shirtless, standing, covered in blood surounded by wolves.
The sky is a plasticine blue; deep yet crystal clear, as though i can almost see right through it, see the stars right through the lie that is the blue sky.

 

And it means one thing

 
(For some reason I though this was really cool, and how wrong I was.)
[in deep dramatic baritone]Today, will be, a good day.[/deep dramatic baritone]

or a bad day.

or both

but never neither

although it can't, yet it must.

ok 

enough with the fucking Tom Stoppard bullshit.

(See.)

as it turns out the day is niether good nor bad.

the day is stoic.

the day is paraplexic.

i'm beggining to fear that i'm not allowing my self to enjoy these days.

(you can fly without me)

this lament corner, this right angle of disdain, will continue after this break.


(Oh this part is just to damn precious! I of course, am talking about Ariel Campbell)
we sit next to each other.

I love it.

I feel it.

but I act as if i don't give two shits.

I act stoic

I act brave.

but I never was, I always cared.

 

Or at least acted like I cared more about the facade then the face.

but that's just not true. 

 

whoops.

i tell ya, this blog would have so much more crediblity if Clive Owen narrarated it.

In other parts of time.

(I am speaking about the P&P rooms and To Kill A Mockingbird.)
The room has a faint famliarity to it, as though that is where my life was dramatically changed, where my future was most likley shaped, but thats not it. No, no i think i've seen it in a Better Homes And Gardens. The lights are bright and we sit on what was, at one time, the swing where my daughter sat, on those hot summer mornings in Maycomb.

(This is Gary and I talking to each other, we're funny fucks.)
We are not alone.

We contest back and forth who's life is worse. Who made the mistakes, who made the choices.

X's never made choices

Y's made to many,

 and it all comes out to one thing. The one thing that we were always to blind to see, but now know that it's what we have to do.

 We need to swap lives and sell the story to Paramount.

Kidding of course.

(Rain of the Razor Lazer)

(That "thing" I'm talking about was asking Ariel Campbell if she was still in love with me. Oh Al if you only fucking knew.)
this "thing" proverbial of course, does in fact need to happen.

(day of the cloudy howdy)

It needs to happen so we can move on, which is the one thing that i was scared of

(flight of the shleter melter)

son of a bitch

(you can fly with out me)

i knew it."

So that concludes TerribleBlog1

Terrible Blog 2 Titled Oh Shooting stars, FUCK YOU

(So I wrote this one after I had just got done fucking Mika, it was during that phase where she was with her new boyfriend but was still sleeping with me and I was listening to a lot of Lightspeed Champion and Bloc Party.)

"You find yourself tossing and turning, RLS seems to have spontaneously erupted inside of you. Thats you wanting to do something that you're mind is telling you 'You realize you are fucking retarded for wanthing this, don't you?'

(This was a Bloc Party lyric, but I thought it fit so perfectly)
(After sex, the bitter taste, been fooled again)

 

i talk and talk about how "I know that we are compatible, we could work, start all over, more enlightened" I sigh "But i'm still leaving, so this still wouldn't work, but I just love you so fucking much"

she gasps

"what?" hoping that something i said made some sort of significant impact in that damn head.

"i just saw a shooting star"

(in uptight whitey news caster voice)we interupt this boring bleeding hearts show with an announcment, Bitterness is back and in full effect, you better check your shit yo

"mhm" i mutter

spite.

"fuck dude I wanna get outta here, i wanna go to space, i'm ready for something new" she says, as if i've been fucking silent this whole conversation.

and just like it hits you, AGAIN, that this is how things must be now.

 

the Brutal Romantic, the Weak Realist.

such tragic characters.

Butchers tounges, gentle hearts.

(So, here we are reinventing the wheel.)

(i'm shaking hands with a hurricane.)

I probably deserve this.

i was so commited to nothing 

lived with one foot out the door at all times.

"Should'na' done that" the western archetypical villian says in my head over and over.

what does he know, fuck him.

(The teeth of this world tear me in half)

and in this corner...

(Once again, Ariel, and once again, it means nothing now.)
i have the ever present unrequited love that has plagued me for 4 years now, and i kick myself every damn time because i can't destroy it.

if love was a person i would take him out back and beat the shit outta him.

but he would keep coming back and tapping me on the shoulder.

persistant motherfucker.

So i just sigh, and i just sigh, and i just sigh, and i pretend that theirs nothing wrong.

"Do your best to avoid it, smile when its right, always find an out"

yeah.

to bad i never did that.

i tried to keep my doors open, keep options available, keep tractions cleared.

and i'm locked in, closed off, and jammed now.

 

in the words of the immortal Arch-Angle Gabriel

"Fucking WONDERFUL!"

Now I actually liked that one, I thought it was pretty well done.

It's amazing to think that at one point I cared so much about things that mean nothing to me now.

and not the "Mean-nothing-but-if-I-saw-them-kiss-I'd-jump-off-of-the-Cornado-Bridge" Mean nothing, I mean it means ___.

The only thing that still makes me sad is that I thought it was all my fault.

Well actually it was all my fault, but fuck that

like some chick changed her myspace status to: "Forget what you feel and remember what you deserve."

Damnit, where was that status update a year ago.

The Passion Of Lovers Pt. 2

Do yourself a favor and Download this album.
it's the dopeness hotta fiyah!

Bauhaus

Mask

The Passion Of Lovers

Oh, happy day, happy fuckin day.
I am now an official hipster.
(I have a little badge and everything!)



1)Bike-CHECK!
2)Snobby pretentious exclusive fashion job- CHECK!
3) Esoteric references and rare musical collection- CHECK!
4) Complete understanding of the fall of the Roman empire due almost entirely to causes of Nero and expanding surrounding civilizations- CHECK!
5) Blog- CHECK!


Well, let's get goin shall we?

Each post will have an accompanying song.
this post's song?

This is really one of those posts to just get me started
(Oh DON'T GET ME STARTED!)
Because I picked the most uneventful most mind blanking day to start one of these.
Any of those other days where I was battling Suicide(there's no secrets here, we're all a family) or something fun would have been great.
But no, I picked this day, where the most eventful thing is "Am I gonna get to work on time and still be able to lounge for the next couple of hours"(no)

Cute blog name hunh?
ITS A SMITHS SONG YA BIG DOOFUS!

So, let me get started
I don't know how.
I really really don't know how.
but some how I'm ok.
Some how I made it out on top, and now some how I'm going to continue living my life.

(GET THE FUCK OUT NO WAY REALLY?!)
Yeah.
Oh yeah girl.

You know whenever I read these things I always thought
"Damn if I had a blog it would be hilarious and I would have so many posts"
well mind, you big fuck up, I now have writers block.

so.
eat that.


Suppose I oughta start fixing this place up.