Tuesday, November 20, 2007

the day before yesterday i planned yesterday

Hey wow. This is here. I have enough places to put shit, so this is ancient history. goto: www.myspace.com/stokesaster

Thursday, March 01, 2007

musicals musicals musically

Theres a little can of golf pencils here. If you push too hard on the lead to write, the piece of lead pops out the end. How shameful for a pencil! It has disgraced its tree ancestors, that is, if it's wood and not plastic.

It's crazy how you'd drop everything for some people and it's as if those people are written on a piece of parchment thats inside a safe inside your head that nobody else could get to or possibly crack. Oh is that so crazy? I don't think yes I know.

I'm just now noticing the carpet in here. It's ugly, but thats the price I pay for being mindful. Haha, library carpeting.

Remember boys and girls, Life Begins at the Hop, and say that you came to see Stokes' Aster.

Sunday, January 07, 2007

getting used to getting on

"awakened from sleeping blithely some morning, i am frantically but weakly pawed at by an unfamiliar person who appears to be wordlessly gouding me to take the whole of the ocean into my mouth. i remain tranquil but unconfident in my ability to do so, considering the person's request before ever wondering how i got to be standing on a shore in the first place or asleep standing up in the first first place. the person relents and i feel the standing sleep again, not before i notice the sun dunks itself into the ocean, creating a massive sizzle and steam, only to raise itself into the sky afterward. I am able to look directly; the feeling occurs to me that it is amused. i feel that it is a good thing that i saw this. i go to sleep and it is as if i am waking up, facing the opposite direction. two men in tuxedos are standing in front of me and one asks if i know when i'm expected. i tell them i forgot my cuffs. the other man says thats okay. the room has marble floors that are very very white, i notice this in particular. i want to say something about how white and shiny they are to the men but i figure that they probably already knew this."

my life is pretty varied and weird right now and its kinda hard to explain and stuff. i guess a big explanation will come soon of the all of it. i'm still the person i only know in a fleeting way, like the past while has been one, long handshake with myself. i'd make the kind of comment like, "oh, didnt he die in a car wreck a few years ago?" or "isn't he gay now?". honestly, i stretch past the truth here. hyperbole is the pulled part of the rubber band that snaps the perspective back to normal. i guess modesty or understatement would be the opposite of that, but i digress. it seems that after a real visual and personal surprise today (one of an unexpected guest) that i've been unprepared for the shock of the change and chaos that takes place outside of the little regimen i've created for myself; the little mental hamster wheel. martha told me that i looked like i had just seen a ghost! i really couldnt react properly, and i was genuinely surprised and quite happy to see her. That falls in contrast, or i should say, comparison with the sort of mental surprises and challenges i've set for myself as of late. creative, mostly, with a bit of a romantic twist on things as well. the former has found me doing of lot of work in a short time on the guitar and voice, and a lot of the sort of "knife-work" or detailing found its place to be done. final assembly, you could call it. we'll stop at spit-shine--hasn't come up yet.

now as for the latter, i've found myself channeling Cyril St. John "The Escapist" here in finding a way to be unstuck and move on with my stalled state of affairs with the fairer sex. they, however, cannot at all be compared to the paper bags which our hero leaps out of through feats of will and skill. it's been difficult, and i've found--in a manner of speaking--that instead of finding the way, i've just to let it reveal itself to me. that is, the way free from the weight of that volume of history. it just simply must happen, and no amount of force will make it so. it will happen, and those times when just the right person has said the right things to you at the right time, and that first realization takes place, the old skin starts to feel to shed. these times don't scrape away at the surface of those old memories of the ones before..but sort of revarnish it in a new, ever more complex spiderweb of wood grain. uh..i'll put it another way: it's like getting stung by a bee, really hard, except it feels..good. i guess you could say i've been stung once again, and thank god.

Friday, December 22, 2006

a first look ahead for implications

It's 55 degrees here. I am sitting on a ludicrously oversized couch in my parent's living room. There's a tv show on right now that is telling people how not to become a fatass this christmastime. Keebs is in his spot..which I think he chose because he can see both the front and back doors at once, to keep good watch on whats going on. Nabisco, on the other hand, spent a good half an hour last night walking on me..she's light, but somehow she just digs those paws right in..

I want a ukelele, they're like cute little guitars that sound really neat and are impossible to take seriously. I'd play it and do nothing but sing in a falsetto voice about clouds or bugs or something. Or, about how great my woman is. Cause, you know, she's pretty cool, to say the least.

I'm actually going to eat breakfast today! Away.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

unusable signal

I just realized how late it was just before I started typing right now, but that's not important. It seems that this is a common theme for me as of late. The unimportant bullshit that I have to deal with is dealt with in a way that really underscores it's unimportance, and the things that I take really seriously are getting some more sway. This sounds like a really simple axiom, but it's actually made me a little more effective in focusing on things I really want to do. For example, I can't wait to stop typing this and go and try and write and practice. My job feels really stupid, and I do it in a way that treats it as so (while still doing decent work) but the money I get from it isn't. Somebody who was a jerk or short with me on any given day rolls right off my back as well, and I'm trying not to fall into sentimentality when i'm around people I want to be around..cause i do appreciate every minute I get with them.

My life just needs to be a little bit lighter, and it's getting there. We'll see. Ever the cautious optimist.

Now it's time to go put in the work I really want to do. Down to the secret lair where my giant ruby-powered laser beam, my henchmen, and all my science shit is.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

the old plantation has been abandoned

So Jon and I are going to Indy for a couple of days next week. After talking to the folks, we don't have enough time to make it all the way to Atlanta, and since they apparently know the former city fairly well, we're going to meet them there. I still have to work the rest of the weekend, which is okay i suppose. Tommorow we're playing at the Dorff. So when the chain of people comes up to us and asks if we're playing, we'll get to say yes, as well as get free drink. Speaking of which, I have a favorite beer there now, the vanilla porter. Good stuff!

I'm once again pursuing somebody, and, amazingly, my efforts may be working. Next comes the phase where we see how crazy each other are, and if it's at an acceptable level. Hehe.

Now its time to get something to eat cause my stomach starting to tell me to. My fingers need a break. I also need new guitar strings. Right now it would be nice to smoke a joint, I havent done that in a while.

BTW, i'm listening to this great Minus 5 record. Edit: now its Spoon

Sunday, October 22, 2006

talking out of both sides of my mouth

I feel like a fool, but a fool who at least in his own mind knows what he's doing.
I don't know how much sense that makes.

Sometimes i think the only time i get inspired is immdiately after i look at people and things and not feel a goddamn thing when i'm supposed to. That's me, Mr. Delayed Reaction. I'm working on that.

I've got a Master Plan.
There are some contingencies worked in. I'm wondering what it would be like to have an alias or a mid 60s Karmann Ghia. I'm also wondering how different my life will be after i'm through with my return to academia. I'm wondering if some big things ever stay gone and if i'm crazy for being so attached to the love-hate relationship i have with reverie.

randomness (is an overused word)

stop not caring and just not care. peel the earth's skin. embrace the ugly, raw wound of the condition of being human and love every rotten thing that oozes out when you drag your fingernail across it. don't understand. maintain your sense of ironic detachment from the subjects of the freak kingdom. the real freaks, the squares. misquote me, but misquote me with a modicum of respect.
still feel gone.