YOU ARE A TARGET MARKET

10:01pm: trying to sing but it doesn’t come off that well
trying to build a wall that is high enough
so we’re boiling over

trying to save your house, trying to save your soul
trying to run but it follows you up a hill
so i'm boiling over

no more conversation
you should’ve took me out when you had a chance
i run to nobody
don't turn away

we're really lonesome
we're turning away

---

New Year's Eve could have been better.

Group depression is a problem thesedays (something I've never dealt with before); it's a strange and awful feeling to find yourself just drifting downward; it's a stranger and awfuler feeling to talk to your friends about it and find them in the same situation.

I guess a lot of things could have been better this year.

My New Year's Resolution is never to fail. I'm not succeeding at it, and therefore I'm failing at my New Year's Resolution, which only results in more failure. It's a vicious cycle. That means I need to start succeeding and fast or else!

(You know you're a depressing person when you set a goal for yourself, such as: never fail, which seems like the idealistic goal of a go-getter who wants to take on the world, when in fact you use it to describe an existential state of being in which every failure tacitly leads to an infinite amount of failure [if failure could be measured quantitatively] as per the definition of your Resolution. Good job.)

I didn't kiss anyone on New Year's Eve.

I wish I was more confident

Please hate me for these brooding entries

5:46pm: Prove Yourself/I Can't.
I can't afford to breathe in this town,
nowhere to sit without a gun in my hand.
Hooked back up to the cathode ray,
I'm better off dead,
I'm better off dead,
I'm better off...

Prove yourself.

I want to breathe, I want to grow,
I'd say I want it but I don't know how.
I work, I bleed, I beg, I pray,
but I'm better off dead,
I'm better off dead,
I'm better off...

Prove yourself.

I'm better off dead.

Please forget the words that I just blurted out,
it wasn't me, it was my strange and creeping doubt,
it keeps rattling my cage
and there's nothing in this world will keep it down.

Even though I might, even though I try, I can't.

Soon your things that keep me underground,
so many words that I can never find.
If you give up on me now,
I'll be gutted like I've never been before.

And even though I might, even though I try, I can't.

If you give up on me now,
I'll be gutted like I've never been before.

And even though I might, even though I try, I can't
Even though I might, even though I try, I can't.

3:01pm: No one consumes anymore.

goodnight

3:06pm: Drift all you like
from ocean to ocean
search the whole wide world.
But drunken confessions
and hijacked affairs
just make you more alone.

If you come home,
I'll bake you a cake...
made of all their eyes.
I wish you could see me
dressed for the kill.
What a NASTY SURPRISE!

And the worms will eat your heart...

So unplug the phones,
Stop all the taps.
It all comes flooding back.
From poisoned cloud,
to poisoned dwarf.
What a NASTY SURPRISE!

And the worms will eat your heart,
Big Boots.

And the worms will come for you.

Big Boots.

10:09pm: First of all, if you haven't seen or heard of the documentary "Jesus Camp", about the evangelical camp called "Kids on Fire", watch the trailer here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_EKHK1C2IE

Yes, you saw right. These people are crazy.

ABC news did a piece about the documentary, which I found to be remarkably...well, full of bias and sympathy for christian idiots. You can find it here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=co1_9lR9EpM&mode=related&search=

The footage portrays children weeping for salvation, speaking in tongues, etc., in clear instances of brainwashing, in addition to worshipping a picture of George W. Bush (no, I couldn't make this shit up if I tried). However, the "news" commentator for ABC seems to have his head up his ass. He cites a bunch of statistics about how youth-oriented evangelism is growing. The main thing that irritated me was his tone, however.

He interviews a pastor about the subject, and there is footage of him walking side-by-side with the pastor with some of the members of the pastor's church, while the pastor gives his side of the story in voice-over.

Admittedly, they grant an opponent to this type of evangelism a chance to tell her side of the story. However, she gets a few seconds of screen time and the tone is much different. In the shot she's in, she's sitting across from the reporter, instead of walking or talking with him, and he introduces her as a, "secular, liberal, feminist" (dirty words, it seems, in our culture, though not to me).

The images of that crazy bitch yelling, "This means war!", the other camp officials imploring the children to die for christ or telling them that they're part of a moment thoroughly scare me. We may one day have to fight off a revolution from these people, they're training an army. In fact, I need not make any comparisons to fundamentalist muslims, as Pastor Becky Fischer, owner of the camp, does it for me! (You can see it in the trailer).

I'll end this on a happy note. As I read on the comments on Youtube in response to the ABC piece, I found a nugget of wisdom. This had me laughing out loud for about 10 minutes, but perhaps it's only funny to me.

"I hope a big meteor hits the earth and everyone dies. Then we will finally have peace."

11:21pm: The Party Blog
I have started a party blog. It's called "Those Guys From Austin", and it will document the wild adventures of some college kids in that crazy town of Austin, TX...i.e. Keegan, Peter, Tim and Joyce.

But seriously, we just decided it would be fun to document our party experiences. This is not an electric after party clone (as some people have said) because:
1. they don't own the concept of a party journal or blog
2. we're not jackasses

The first entry is up, with pictures from Renee's band's show last night and from Henry's apartment, where hella drinking occurred.

www.thoseguysfromaustin.blogspot.com

We're not looking for fame, just a good time.

4:17pm: this song is about thinking you're actually wonderful but knowing that you really aren't.

-thom yorke

i've been working on some stuff recently
the band with isaac isn't going well; no intra-band conflict, but not much passion or ethusiasm in any field, really.
i like isaac's material, and he likes mine, but the problem is that i don't really like the direction he wants to take my stuff and i always feel like he's in charge and i'm pitching my songs to him. not to mention that he'll get the credit, being the primary song-writer, lead guitar player and singer.

so i think i'll still work with isaac on drums if he wants, but i'm going to keep my material for me.

mp3s soon. (acoustic?) maybe a myspace, though i'm considering deleting the one i have now. maybe i'll play out soon. (acoustic?) i don't know.

oh my god (spring 2006)

wheels keep turning for everyone
we've all got our crawl space
oh my god what have i done
i think i've joined your army

keep focusing on the here and now
ignore your dreams of islands
forget that classic escape, somehow
i wish my voice would soar

do forget your childish things
it's time to go to work
everything is just as it seems
no time for your questions

i'll buy a house, a car, a gun
i always promised i'd stay a child
oh my god what have i done
oh my god

this song is likely to be killed, so enjoy the lyrics as you will probably never hear them played.

-me

12:41am: I think I'm done being nice. It's gotten me nowhere.

You think I'm joking. No, I'm going to be a fucking jerk from now on.

9:12pm: I HAVE HAD IT
WITH THESE MOTHERFUCKING SNAKES
ON THIS MOTHERFUCKING PLANE

go see Snakes on a Plane because it is amazing.
a couple go to have sex in the bathroom, but little do they know that there are snakes on the plane. the snakes sneak into the bathroom and bite them to death, on the plane. snakes on a plane.
a guy gets his dick bitten off by a snake. on a plane.
and much more! with snakes! on a plane!

this was possibly the best movie I've ever seen because it had snakes and a plane. and the snakes were on the plane. SNAKES ON A PLANE. SNAKES ON A PLANE!!!! MUTHERFUCKER!!!!!

12:36pm: Fevered dreams and broken things that may come true,
she says that your magic charms won't save you.

Two nights ago I had the best and worst night of my summer, rolled into one. I was supposed to meet the westlake crowd + p. berq and the bacon crew at tim's house, but by the time I got there, they had moved it to Westlake Keegan's apartment. For those who don't know, Westlake Keegan's apartment pool is the place we go when the night is about to be a dead-end.

Read it in my palms, read it in my tea leaves,
Chills down my spine when you curse me.

However, I had seven pills; five caps of speed, and two mystery pills. And we took some, peter, matt, tim and I. And things started to heat up. When people started to take off to go home, peter, tim and I refused to call the night over and decided to make some calls. And there was a bridge show.

Blackened skies and magpie cries, they surround you.
But at times your blackened aura may save you.

It turns out not just any bridge show. Complete Control and the Krum Bums were playing. Holy shit. So we all take another cap of speed to get pumped up. That might have been a mistake. The night was amazing, the show was amazing, and we met a hobo/carnie named Johnathan who seemed grateful to have some company and constantly offered us cigarettes.

Read it in my palms, read it in my tea leaves,
Chills down my spine when you curse me.

We get back to my house at 2:30 after a kegger we were about to go to was busted. And we sat on the porch on speed, and shot the shit for about 2 and a half hours. We had a few beers, smoked some weed, listened to some chillax music. And then, when I finally went to bed at 5 PM, I couldn't sleep. I laid in bed for five hours trying to keep my eyes closed, then finally just got up at 10.

If I've been fated, why not let me know? Why not just kill me outright?
I don't fucking care, I don't fucking know.

I went to work at 2 PM, the next day. I hadn't slept that night. I bought two energy drinks and had some coffee throughout the day. But I still burned out with 3 or so hours left to go. The last hour was horrible - I was literally collapsing. And the metalneck was worse. By 9 PM I had not slept for about 35 hours. John, my boss, told me to go home and get some rest. I did. I got home, and listened to k.d. lang while I collapsed into bed by about 9:30 that night and fell right to sleep.

Walk around me. (Walk around me).

I slept for 15 hours.

12:03am: You’re such a mystery, I just want to stand and stare.
Nibble on your ear and smell the ocean in your hair.
You know you damage me, you leave me tangled in a knot.
But when you reappear, I see Neptunian blues that eyes forgot.

I only feel alive when the view is flashing, alarms going off in my head
I want to grab you and just kiss you, maybe I should sit down
No sense in catching us now
Still I only feel alright when my view is flashing and bombs going off in my head
I want to grab you, want to scream at you, no icing me down
The party’s crashing us now,
The party’s crashing us now

Oh well we made love like a pair of black wizards.
You freed me from the past, you fucked the suburbs out of me
And all those ugly days that made us so sick
They are just fossils now, we’ve learned the elevating trick.

I only feel alive when the view is flashing, alarms going off in my head
I want to grab you and just kiss you, maybe I should sit down
No sense in catching us now
Still I only feel alright when my view is flashing and bombs going off in my head
I want to grab you, want to scream at you, no icing me down
The party’s crashing us now,
The party’s crashing us now

1:03pm: "The three F's, drink, fuck and fight."

"So I told him that he better shut the fuck up before I took his gun and shot him with it and apparently it was the wrong thing to say."

"No, no, that's definitely alcohol I smell."

"Wow, I wasn't expecting that to happen."

"So what do you and your friends do, just like, shoot up heroin and stuff?"

"Just do what I do. Hit it and quit it."

"I would have hung out with you, but I was afraid that I'd get arrested."

"You're the king of party fowls tonight."

"I bet you listen to hardcore. I'm judging you completely based on your appearance."

"With this much alcohol, we could all go home really drunk."
"With this much alcohol, we could all go home dead."

11:44am: What's that?

(I may be paranoid, but I'm not an android.)

4:22pm: There's a little child
running 'round this house
but he never leaves,
he will never leave.
And the fog comes up from the sewers,
and glows in the dark.

Baby alligators in the sewers grow up fast,
grow up fast.
Anything you want, it can be done.
How did you go bad?
Did you go bad?
Did you go bad?
Somethings will never wash away
Did you go bad?
Did you go bad?

3:00pm: Hey man, hey man,

slow down.

Idiot,

slow down.

It's all over, it's all over, I'm experiencing happiness and sadness at the same time to a great degree and my finite mind can't understand it! I'm so pitifully stupid and uninformed, I'm not ready. And at the same time, I'm more than ready. Release me, release me.

Where am I going? I don't know, but I'm going there awfully fast.

10:03pm: You're walking
and everything seems foreign to you
it's all coming to an end
how the hell did I get here?

I'll spare you my cliches.

2:25pm: Morning Bell,
Morning Bell.

Light another candle and
release me, release me.

You can keep the furniture
a bump on the head.

Howling down the chimney,
release me, release me.

Please,
release me, release me

Where'd you park the car?
Where'd you park the car?
Clothes are on the lawn with the furniture

Now I might as well,
I might as well
Sleepy jack the fire drill
Round and round and round...

Cut the kids in half.
Cut the kids in half.
Cut the kids in half...

Release me, release me
release me
release me

release me
release me

release me

release me



release me

release me






release me









release me














release me



















release me

7:33pm: I'm back.

I'm rather content. Family and friend antics. Fishing. Going out to eat. Going to the beach. And late night walks. It's good to get away with your girl for awhile.

This song doesn't reflect my mood at all, but it's so tragically beautiful that I'm going to post the lyrics. It's a ballad by Redgum, and it's called Gladstone Pier.

Peter was a sailor,
swarthty, lean and proud.
He could take a schooner through
a big sea swell,
aloof in the mainland crowd.

She loved his quiet laughter,
like a boy he'd shrug and grin.
The beach strecthed wide,
at Port McKay,
with dreams upon the wind.

He wore her name in rose tattoo,
long weekends of gins and lime.
She lived in Cairns,
made plans to move,
check-out girl part-time.

And rumor said,
there's a boom ahead,
You can make your future here,
at the Gladstone Pier.

A two-room fibro shelter,
empty hopes, the damp, the flies.
Prices hiked,
the face grew tight
and conversation died.

And the foremen at the smelter said
'You're much too old,
try the canefields further north."
And the clerk at the market said
"We don't buy trouble,
there's a strike down at the port."

Then a six-day shift in a filthy pit,
the draglines gouging coal.
The black dust gnaws
at your lungs and pours.
the anger rots your soul.

And the queue round the block
waits for you to drop,
can you take it for another year?
By the Gladstone Pier.

Every sunday he'd walk alone,
casting pebbles at the passing waves.
Plunge in brine,
cleanse his pride,
and the stronger man survives.

The crunch of the shale
and the distant sails
ached within his bones,
seeing ships upon the tide,
bound for ports unknown.

Soon he drank for comfort,
she grew bitter in the weeks between.
The nights of beer
and hollow cheer,
when love became routine.

They fought, she left him crying,
angry words in a last cafe.
Deperation on a lonely night,
she took the bus
for Cairns, 'next day.

Gladstone couples break that way,
mutual blame and no regrets.
Boomtown blues just fades to grey,
and all that's left are debts.
He cried,

"I have to leave this dirty old town
and the rattle of broken men.
Break these chains, wash the pain,
and put to sea again.

I drained all my passion,
my anger,
and my fear,
and sank them in a flagon
under Gladstone Pier."

She saw him through the greyhound window,
as the dawn glowed on the chrome.
Waiting by the pier
under sullen skies,
The sea winds calling home.

From surfers up to Townsville,
past the high-rise colonies,
fast food,
cheap motels,
and two more Boomtown refugees.


Sad, isn't it? It's alot easier for me to listen to sad music when you're happy than when you're sad, so sorry if I've brought anyone down.

It's been a long weekend, and this coming week will be easy, what with TAKS and all. Sorry, underclassmen!

P.S. Paullee scan and post those polaroids! they're cu'e.

1:28pm: I'm running away to an island for a few days. I'll be back later.

5:20pm: "I hate everything." What if I were to walk up to you and make this most ridiculous and absurd declaration, that I hate everything. Everything in the world, the universe, and everything. Madonna, Hitler, the ocean, and you. Etc.? Etc.? I can't even figure out if anything is enough to feel strongly about it. It being what?

What?

If you can't ask specific questions I cannot be held accountable for giving unspecific answers. If you don't answer when I speak to you, I can't be accountable for not speaking anymore. Who are you talking to you? Who are you talking to? It's rude to answer a question with another question. Says who? They do. Who's they? What?

What?

When I went to sleep, I said to myself, "When I wake up, it will be _________ (all fine, all wonderful, all nice and perfect)", "I will be __________ (happy? actualized? NOT FUCKING DEPRESSED AND WORRIED ALL THE TIME?!)", etc. ETc.? ETC.!?! Someone once told me that I was brilliant, made of matches. I forgot them like I forgot...what?

What?

I hate everything. That's what.

3:54pm: My eyes are missing
I cannot understand
A sickening ballet where we dance around each other
My mouth is missing
I cannot open up and release the well of feelings
so I will bend and break
They scream and they cry
much as you're doing now
I have to keep wishing
but I cannot keep wishing
or I will bend and break more violently
I am not content to be hollow
I am not content to be stuffed
but I'm trapped in this cactus land
My prayers will not be answered
by the broken stone
so I will bend and break

They scream and they cry
am I scary now?

9:40pm: Drag him out your window, Dragging out your dead
Singing I miss you
Snakes and ladders, Flip the lid
Out pops the cracker
Smacks you in the head, Knifes you in the neck, Kicks you in the teeth
Steel toe caps
Takes all your credit cards
Get up, get the gunge
Get the eggs, Get the flan in the face
The flan in the face
The flan in the face
Dance you fucker, dance you fucker
Don't you dare,
Don't you dare,
Don't you flan in the face.

Take it with the love is given, Take it with a pinch of salt
Take it to the taxman
Let me back, let me back
I promise to be good
Don't look in the mirror
At the face you don't recognize
Help me call the doctor
Put me inside
Put me inside
Put me inside
Put me inside
Put me inside

I keep the wolf from the door
But he calls me up,
Calls me on the phone.
Tells me all the ways that he's gonna mess me up.
Steal all my children if I don't pay the ransom,
But I'll never see him again
If I squeal to the cops.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no...

I got what I wanted in spades.
If there is nothing but nothingness, then isn't that somethingness?
I reached into the dark places in my mind (and you in yours), and I didn't like what I felt. I wish things could be simpler, because all I can think about it the good times. How the bad times really matter if the good times were that good?

I want, I need more time. Just time.

Sorry.

5:07pm: Everything I see is a metaphor.

I hope they're not true.

4:24pm: We're hunting bears, we're hunting bears
Got my shotgun, got my sandwich
Hiding in the bushes and we wait
and we wait
Peeking through the trees and we wish
and we wish

We're against demons, raging against demons
Fighting injustice, removing, no
destroying fear
Slinking in the shadows and we spy
and we spy
Getting lost in the shadows and we cry
and we cry

we're the guys on the outside,
we're the nothing on the inside,
we're the Fado guitarists,
we're the saudade poets,
we're no longer afraid,
we're going into dreams and nightmares,
We're hunting bears, we're hunting bears

I'd end with a period but it doesn't seem appropriate

8:45pm: This community is to be my sole function on livejournal now. Join?

http://community.livejournal.com/lonesome_planet/

Philosophical discussion? Join ittttt. Just no idiots, please. Not to imply that any of you are idiots, but don't tell any of your idiot friends about it.