Communism

What's been happening you ask? Too much and not enough. That is all. Don't quite fully understand myself or my life at this particular conjecture, but that's fine. Part of me wants to spill it all here, part of me knows it's pointless. Ugh, tired. End.

...still I don't feel easy...

Aura Descending

We of a common feather
Setting sights on a smile in knowing
Coming down from existential glee that summoned more hope before me
And glowing by divine fire, the slumping dusk turns brisk around
Shoveling its stoop in a pile, waiting for dark ailments
Clouding the dot of the spy, sifting softly through swollen window holes
I asked a fallen cranapple tree to condone my sweet appraisal
None had towing that would match a harping magnitude, though less seemed interested
Collecting our thoughts, I gathered what was whole and part treat
We lifted our tongues the arch the cheek speck
The cry was light; lifted hard but true
No other man was to cuss and stir intervention
I demolished a carnival to carve a plead from forgiveness
And I crave the emptiness that starks the heart

Seven Cities

We ate Mexican and Indian foods, pizza, seafood, organic bread/sandwich, Wendy's x2, Arby's x3, and Subway x4

We witnessed parallels of reality in front of our eyes, hung out in museums, cathedrals, strip clubs, speakeasies, cafes... and we found out that some gas stations have showers.

We found that we are never safe, yet no one is an enemy.

We found the idea that life happens.

Defining Innovation

clean up the vomit trail.

Reluctance

Debauched by his regurgitated stress relief, I call upon my new sense of beginning afresh

Prelim of Exodus

"Society must let the artist float to wander off into the nebula."
- Brandon Boyd

Clearly what I've found is that it hasn't translated well. This constant ebb of understanding, worrying its way through daily happenings. A year later, I'm rediscovering the safe trodden truths, I feel. Why is this? How am I not improving for the most part... because I've most definitely been on decline. This must strengthen. So much has to happen now. I will force it. Just as gently as that blanket without aim--I claimed it. In dreams again last night, in reality in a few days awaits.

Problems arise when we try to see each others precise sensory experience of the same subject. We must relish moments together. When we adopt the eyes of others in pure word and comprehension, we're losing the initial system shock by having a filter cast over your eyes. My own foolishness startles me.

....does something really just tell us to do these things?

God's Waiting Room

Wow, what a night. Life reaching a full circle. How terribly I treated her, how wonderfully I treated her. This is interesting. Just waiting for further condemnation by Stephen... otherwise, shit, I love this girl.

I guess I have to dick someone over now. Yet... it needs to be done. This is my life that I'm laying out in front of me, no one else's. I must stop submitting myself to others' selfish wants, when I'm the one working for the goods. What a beautiful, beautiful evening.

Shit. These next 3 months are going to be outlandish.

A Mockery of my Intermission for the Becoming of My Presence

Today was a true kick in the pants, which I needed to further my actualization.
I feared being fired today, walked out of work for the second time this week, and started throwing various objects throughout the kitchen of the restaurant. I now know that I've reached lunacy. And overcome, I want to believe. What are we doing with our lives, I asked. I dunno, he replied, as carefree as always, and thus it remains. But course is set, and we're now stapled to the repercussions of that acceptance. The fear won't stand. I won't stand for fear. My evening just had a very solid finale when I found a centipede in my shower, one of my greatest fears of the galaxy, next to the newly coined "HARDCORE REPUBLICANS," though I abolished his torso and limbs. It was gruesome.

And now you. Perhaps my stomach is in uproar because of the vast amount of time we've spent, and how eager you are to please me... and I find myself resisting the natural urges to please you. This is a year later. This is only halfway point from a proven stagnation, if you let it be so. Or, as we discussed, you could allow us to "live together"... and live together. Somewhere in the recesses of my striking and overly intense consciousness, this all proves a point to myself, to him, to you, to them. Fuck. But fuck them. Fuck me. Fuck him, at times. And fuck you if you're enabling yourself the contentment that you've been preaching is malnourished and uneventful. And then again you brought this to our attention this evening... and could we worship each other any more than we do? Why do we do it?

Oh, answers still so unclear. You enable me, however, and I must kick it up a notch to motivate myself IMMENSELY over these next few months, if I'm to flourish with every obstacle stacked. How frivolously fate has crafted all calling parties to my attention all at once: so clever as to force me to confront tomorrow, today, and the present. And the fears and disillusions. And I crave it. This new sense of immediacy is just perfectly presented to me at this unbearable time. I put myself in every situation in my mind before it actually occurs. I know I'll cry when Stephen Streck leaves us to join the Air Force. I'll fucking rage with passion with a hug unimaginable to the untested bonds. But it's coming. So much preparation, regard, and disregard I adore and very wholly praise in you and our dear friend Shelbs. Your pace will be unparalleled, and I'm striving to match it. That's companionship.

Move me to tears. Please. Tonight I was persuaded to attend this party not too far from my home, so I did in fact join the fun. And I forced myself to rise to what the situation demanded. And it worked pretty well. I conjure laughs, encouragement, and some sort of cockeyed respect. All the while, boosting confidence which barely exists, and is very tough to summon. Though I will when I'm beaten down to the dirt. And today I royally beat myself into powder. So fuzzy, clouded, fatigued, shaky, disarrayed... a hot mess inside out with the vapor production. Just solid to mush, as a centipede in the shower.

Straight up skank status...

Bit of Nostalgia for the Old Folks

Seminal minds depriving the soiled society of a nurturing slumber--a suturing number.


"Without a mistake, you can't go anywhere. It's where the most fertile ground is. The birth of the next move comes from putting pressure on the gaping wound."
- Norton Wisdom, 2003

"I am curious going into today, with this historical mindset, how I will end up feeling having come full circle. The car just arrived to take belle and I down to soundcheck. It's good to be interested in ones life."

- Eric Avery, 5/20/09

Jane's Addiction and the 17 years of rest

Bonus Disc 5 of A Cabinet of Curiosities has 5 tracks from 7/23-24 @ Irving Meadows, Lollapalooza '91. I'm going to continue to add upcoming tracks to this EP in order to craft a whole new disc:

01. Standing in the Shower... Thinking (Live 1991)
02. Of Course (Live 1991)
03. Ted, Just Admit It... (Live 1991)
04. Mountain Song (Live 1991)
05. Stop! (Live 1991)
06. Trip Away (Live 1991) [ACOC iTunes bonus track]
07. Chip Away (Live 1991) [ACOC iTunes bonus track]
08. Slow Divers (Rehearsal 1986)
09. Chip Away (2009)
10. Whores (2009)
11. Embrace the Darkness (2009)
12. Laughing Beats (2009)
13. I'll Protect You (2009)


"What have I missed the most? The first thing that comes to mind is 'Three Days.' Every time we play it, I go, 'Gentlemen, we made this.' You know?"

- Eric Avery, April 2009

Fascination of Moment

So so cleverly she divides. This orbital intrusion that has redeemed my late shimmering eye. From within the fire, weight upon rims, the tautness of the sweatband was stellar to uproot.

Damn, this girl is ridiculous. And here we are, a year later. I caught some rather intent glances this evening. Where does that lead? She's seeing someone, yet she tells me she's helplessly lonely. Rawr. In other news, I'm actually contemplating giving someone the heads up on the Atlanta PJ Harvey show. But I can't really bring myself to do that. On sale in 7 hours. But no.

If only they'd stop confusing each other.


You slept facing the wall
And you wanted, less than I wanted
I slept facing the wall
But when I met you,
How did you enter?
I don't remember
How did we ever?

Cryptomnesia

Listening to the new Omar. Completely off the balls. Just perfect right now.

Loved talking to Shelby yesterday, and Nakeeda since. Got to see Mandy and Scottie... so that was kinda great, kinda weird. The combination of Karen, Katie, Than and Alex is just the best. I love our new little gang.

Hmm... I need to sleep.

Great night with YOU.

Muffled Decibels

I'm still stuck in this swirling cycle of having a three goddess complex. So much misguidance has sent us to this point in time. Remembering scents of last summer, while news ones etch their way into our collective memory. How wide the scope of our dissension.

Scottie giggles and tells me of my youthful ways. Yet urgency is always now far from thought. So clever, my new routine of coffee, cigarettes... and blueberries. New form taking shape. Glimpsing empyrean from purgatory. "Since We've Been Wrong" uncovered as the true title for the acoustic TMV song, previously known as "Beneath the Eyelids." The wrong still carries fervent air, though now clogged with prosthetic smoke. Chiming in at more flawless coercion than what was formerly attempting to mesh with flow.

After so many vacated, clouded dreams, I begin to lose interest in whether or not we're both rotting away. Right there is the answer. These aren't buildings in pieces, rather, windows blast out by distraction.

Skank Status

"Erika! There is no laughter in the garden."

Drunk as queerbait.

"Oh, England, come soon."

April is here. Fuck our lives. Together as wholeness. Sensory decay is eight equivalents.

Biggest Gang I Know

There are 14 bussers. at least 3 of them are assclowns; 5 have set schedules or barely buss at all, 2 are brothers which are included in prior, 4 of them are some of my closest cats, 2 are married and only work together, 1 is transgender, 2 are newly employed, another 2 are hopefully about to depart. Then there's me. Also, I kinda miss Blake.

Hmm. So now I'm striving to always be on time, to better start the day right and lessen risk of being fired/sometimes quitting. Yes... the girls are trash, I have so much money--but I still spend too much income.

It's 6 am now. This went nowhere. I need to go to sleep.

Neruda

"You don't want to answer me.

But the questions do not die."

- Consequences, Extravagaria 1958


"Wandering love, I come back
with this heart both fresh and wearied,
belonging to water and sand,
to the dry spaces of the shore,
to the white war of the foam."

- Here, there, everywhere, Extravagaria 1958



All throughout Pablo Neruda's collections, Extravagaria and Fully Empowered, the books resulting from his return to Chile, I can't help but notice the recurring reference to "foam." These are his most personal works, derived from his autumn-minded journey, from his autumnal period, a testament to his "coming to rest." As a rediscovery of his home, both native land and sea, I understand the importance of season and the Pacific coast in his recollection. Though in my own wanderings, I too came to use the word "foam" very often during my writings last summer, all before my introduction to this man's vast, immense body of work. Just as any other time in life when this common happening is noticed, I have to wonder how this translates from generation to generation, from artist to artist -- the attachment to either sensation or perspective and a reluctance to let go, when the internal ashes have yet to settle.

odetoyousothatyoumayrestandnowyouredead

please. I am not the artist you think I am. The words, on the roof of my mouth.

you are such a haunting thing, under my false exterior. and i was amongst it. i'm scared, for the life of everyone, it seems. they can at least pretend, but i can't escape you when i sleep. i just want to lie down and never wake up.

how does life happen to us, really?
I end so many series with the starting of a new sentence. But fuck, so do you.


I now wish to be imparted from you. I'll never send that last letter, cunt.

...in all our hesitations, the bold state of being.


catchupcatchupcatchup

all things that make me want to kill myself

So convinced that God is no answer
never was and never will be

yet what is it within ourselves that we are lacking?
what love that we have not yet found is there to embrace?

"Unreachable"

I know we tried
I know we tried
End
Shoot me
End
Shoot me
Shoot me, shoot me



The Empyrean is completely enthralling, and it has its grip during this period of blossom in life.

Tonight is that night. I believe. So strange how quickly we attach to our intangible desires, not yet properly grown. Simply abstractions of distraction. And mischievous attraction.




Gimme some mo'

Ah, I'm gettin' a big head

Nah, not really



Just feeling mighty fine these days. However, without the cost.

Oh yes, could this be?

Tomorrow

I need to stop messing up. This is my life, I need to live it.


... and this girl is PHENOM

NINJA

Fail on my part. Epic fucking fail.

Josh Klinghoffer opened.

However, set list is pretty much weak sauce. So that's relieving.

Oh, and the tour was confirmed today.

So I'm happy to have saved that $600... for 3 or 4 Nine Inch Nails / Jane's Addiction (NINJA) shows.


BRING ON 2009!

The biggest decision of my life;

Here are the reasons for/dissuasive bits regarding attending the Jane's Addiction concert at The Echoplex, Los Angeles on Monday, February 16, 2009:

pros:
+this is their third club show since the 2008 reunion.. third times the charm
+they are quite obviously in the studio at the moment, meaning they could be performing NEW songs, or old ones they've been finally properly recording (such as Slow Divers, KETTLE WHISTLE, Suffer Some, Trip Away, Whores, 1%, etc.)
+this is my favorite band in the entire fucking world
+i am currently in need of something life-affirming
+valentine's day is killing me
+what if they never come to philly/nyc?
+how long will the boys stick together?
+i just acquired an extra/unforeseen $600 from the federal government since I did not receive a check during the 2008 stimulus movement
+this would only cost $575-$650
+i need to travel WEST
+LA intrigues the fuck out of me
+i want Eric Avery to sweat on my face/see him finally
+i want to see Dave Navarro for the first time
+i want to see Stephen Perkins for the first time
+there is only ONE seat remaining on the connecting flight from DC to LA
+i can use Harrisburg airport, rather than Baltimore
+i can get over my fear of being involved in airline travel without thinking about Atlanta
+concert is only $10
+club isn't too far from the airport, hotel is right by airport
+i'd feel so fucking cool to be able to say I did this, and have the glorious photos to spread around
+good chance I'd be able to meet Josh Klinghoffer
+this would be a minor "screw you" to the Olive Garden, as I would have to more or less call off and say, "yeah, not working this double today... going to LA instead, bitchtoad."
+flights are surprisingly cheap right now due to the recession
+flights are unbelievably reasonably considering the last-minute notice that the band forces upon us
+i need to live in the moment
+i don't want to miss Three Days or Obvious, one of which they are sure to play... oh, and Summertime Rolls *groan*
+also... Idiots Rule! and No One's Leaving
+i'm a white dread
+you only live once
+you only live twice: "one life for yourself, and one for your dreams"
+i would like to see the group in their own habitat
+my credit cards are empty at the moment
+i could have the best time of my life


cons:
-The band is quite obviously back in full swing now, and this is not the only opportunity to see them, as we may have speculated back in the fall
-I am scheduled to work all day (10 hours) on Monday, which never ever happens, without my volunteerism
-This $600 would really help out the MacBook Pro/new PC cause
-That damn bit of rationalism inside me that says this is insane
-I'm not the most street-wise individual around
-I want to live to see Polly in 6 weeks (god, I am obviously searching for examples to not go, when there are clearly very few...)
-I will undoubtedly be spending 16+ hours in an airplane/airport over a 48 hour period, could easily be an entire fucking day
-All this^ I just mentioned... is an hour-plus-some-change show really worth this headache?
-Something could go horribly wrong, in which case I would miss the performance, and thus punch myself in the grundle, then bomb the world
-I could catch them on this heavily heavily rumored tour... or, worst case, go to Lollapalooza and see them, which they will mossst likely be playing
-How fucking tired will I be from this?
-I will cry everywhere from the sheer energy of the quartet
-They mentioned an encore performance, either at The Echoplex or another LA club, fast approaching for those who don't attend this one... which I could probably be better prepared and organized and certain about.
-[this isn't going well, I should really just book the damn flight already]
-I could regret this for the rest of my life.

A Wait in Digression

In ode to my recent realization that I have let far too many ideas fall out of my reach, that there are many grand results that I myself should have copyrighted... I'll say this now: Crucified Stride Records is something I want to be a part of.

Commence. I am drunk and listening to old Thievery Corporation.

These days I cannot stop my mind from settling on thoughts of my brother Tony, and also the atmospheric effect that New Orleans had on my life. I'm feeling that latter right now... That entire week, I was completely enthralled into the two records I just bought: Devendra Banhart's Cripple Crow and Captain Beefheart's Ice Cream for Crow. The common thread riding between the two, I felt was important, and surely it proved as such. What a monumental time. Though I experienced this on my own, entirely in the context of my personal thriving emotions for the duration. So much detachment lie across the tightrope of the one line crossing her heart to mine. You see, though it was the roughest encounter of love I'd ever known, I still can say I felt strengthened by the full-on envelopmental course I allowed to take hold of me. Ah, the bittersweet grip. I regret none of this; I wouldn't be precisely who I am now. Though I truly detested 2008 for nearly all of its stay. Glossy marble balls that fed our innermost self-interest. Denied yet still clutched.

For whatever it may render, bring forth our beliefs.

Is it so much that we aspire to resemble those heightened men who share the glared-tunnel vision of blaring gluttony for common purpose? To divulge our domestic knowledge and its whereabouts on some up-and-coming projection of an outer planet excursion, that one that we so desire? If we reach it on our own mortal soil, our tears will grant us the reason we damned all this time, that we so convinced ourselves didn't previously exist. Yet we still crave the eastern front. I only pray, not for the wrong reasons. Given our allotted space for consumption, one would think we've already acquired the necessary restraints of temptations--not the case. We're reliving the struggle of carrying dead weight cemented to the ground. Somebodys name's been buried around.

Can't Have Enough Human

Those swollen green lights that filtered the tranquility from my stomach
I felt were the single glimpse of what future would conceptually hold for me
In that autumnal bind of what winter summoned
Soon showered as a burden from the perching tree
Silence -- the only border between the threshold of calm and calamity.
That which gave birth to my aspiring needs after the aching conception
Fitting only the right changes in time of ill housing
The focus seemed better left to non-repair
And aims that would stretch further in larger rooms with unbridled puzzles
"I need that new girl, wherever she is."
Hums just as deafening, the sordid disclaimer
The dream girl, short, sandy blonde hair?
Food in these halls as meek, displeasing all in attendance
Ever since we dismissed death as apparel
Pinning down the pining, left to the pine trees
Boredom crosses paths with poor wisdom
What we had drawn as timeless script for our parents
Thought we had a better name to embark
Eleven less were bore of the holiday.
The staircase gave watch: I hoped for brief love
Through the curtains, I peeked at what the mist bred, before departure.
I gave my all to this hope.
It left sooner than I, that marvel of a girl I believed in
And later, again my worries were materialized in disappointment
Not of She, but of the natural unveiling of who we could become
As I wished for her to join me on the mountain
My hopes gave rise to tender decay,
broken only by the gentle plucking of her hearts harp

A Woman A Man Walked By

John Parish and Polly Jean Harvey
due March 30, 2009

1. Black Hearted Love
2. Sixteen, Fifteen, Fourteen
3. Leaving California
4. The Chair
5. April
6. A Woman A Man Walked By / The Crow Knows Where All The Little Children Go
7. The Soldier
8. Pig Will Not
9. Passionless, Pointless
10.Cracks In The Canvas

The Times They Are A Changin'

I just had a phenomenal week.

Philadelphia trip on Wednesday, January 7

The three of us took a shot of Cuban rum, then each took a beer for the road, 2 mile walk to the end of Main street, Manayunk. Proceeded to get slaughtered at Kildare's. I had 2 glasses of Chimay, one paid for by Mr. Brian, and 1.5 shot of Grandad's whiskey, also covered by the man. We were all very very well off. Later, chased a mouse for a while along the brick wall on the street, then saw 3 cop cars stopped at the Manayunk diner, where the guys bought foods. Initially, Chris was rejected from purchase. But the eclair conquered.

Went to Repo Records for the first time. Spent $84 (vaginas). Here's what they have that I must obtain:

Santogold (LP)
One Day as a Lion (LP)
Lick My Decals Off, Baby (CD)
CocoRosie LPs
Captain Beefheart LPs
Portishead LPs
Meatpuppets II (LP)
etc etc.


I bought,
The Bedlam in Goliath (2LP w/ planchette "Mr. Muggs")
White Chalk (LP)
Shiny Beast (Bat Chain Puller) (LP)

2009, cunts.

I love Polly Jean Harvey.