here we go.
goodbye friends for a small amount of time.
goodbye lover for a longer stretch.
goodbye comforts and disabling security.
goodbye stressless immobility.
goodbye doormats and clean carpets.
goodbye dog.

hello vigilance and continuous reminders of what is what, what is right, what is worthwhile, what is less empty, what is happiness.

Life Goal #676

stop spending so much of life recovering.

having no phone is sweet until organization with others becomes a key component to your week.

I wish I could get my head out of the sand, cause I think we'd make a good team

it seems like every time i try to post, i have to poo.

Tom Gill and I verbally sparred last night. Apathy vs. strategic hope. Nothingness vs. all-encompassingness. Foxnews vs. Cnn. And neither of us particularly chose a side. He is one of the most revitalizing forces on the planet, and he has sweet mutton chops to boot.

I just downloaded the blue album after listening to eric n friends cover the whole record last week. I'm about 10 or 12 years too late, but we'll see how it goes.

goddamn the sun

gotta poo, listening to the cubs, trying to have a normal day. you know how these things go.

it's wednesday right? i need some sort of physical activity today, but the goddamn rain won't stop. i've realized recently that i use language that would indicate a high level of faith in a monotheistic deity and the deity's ability to literally damn the weather to hell.

god, damn the rain.

The central portion of Illinois is an intense place. I wish I had my glasses and cigarettes and dry pants.

The Ronettes-I Wish I Never Saw The Sunshine

alpha male

never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves never join a pack of wolves.

Dear Michael Jackson,
You totally stole Farrah Fawcett's tragic death spotlight. Also, that dude from PBS and Ed McMahon. Your unadulterated need for attention is not appreciated and will not go unnoticed.

Imma go listen to Thriller now and give up on this stupid topical post.

Losing your shit in silence in dark in nowhere in florida is a hell of an experience. It fills a notebook up real quickly and leaves you with sleeplessness in a sweaty van and a kind of hangover the next morning. Attempts at optimism are necessary.

The past week has been wild if nothing else. Drunk on the beach by noon central time in Savannah to bump into friends from central illinois was certainly interesting.

a night in philadelphia with a good friend to discuss the finer points of feelings.

a boner story in dc that rivals the majority of the boner stories i've been involved in.

north carolina handed us one of the more ridiculous gatherings of people i've been involved in, propositions galore with the added bonus of Four Loko, an interesting 24oz combination of caffeine, sugar and 11% alcohol.

a burnt skin now keeps me feeling uncomfortable but alive, and the lack of knowledge regarding sleeping arrangements or evening plans makes me want to read more books instead of giving a shit.

I plan on sweating and conversing for the next few days.

Gonna leave this town at the crack of dawn tomorrow, and i feel pretty great to leave my good ol' home-self behind for a bit. Ocean swimming, a bunch of new friends and a couple old friends will be therapeutic to say the least. Thinking about these shows we're playing, I realized most of them are at radical or at least progressive thinking locations, and that makes sense. You know, it's the type of kids we all hang out with. But upon further self-inspection, I realized that none of my songs are inherently political in any sense, and if one is to even attempt to look for politics in the songs, the shit is few and far between. So I hope all the anarchopunx on the east coast like songs about heartache, pubic hairs, alcohol, twin peaks and heartache.