It's so sad, age is a cycle. You start out frail and helpless with people being protective of you.you grow and start to learn,you flesh things out for your own. Then you peak and go down the slow agonizing decent into seniality. People begin to once again talk down to you, but were they talked to you out of promise and protection, they now talk to you out of pity. They feel bad you
I feel bad for them

Bah

black and lime green

Should you really worry about what is happening now? It could always be worse. They say you should never worry,that it adds nothing to your life. If anyone could point out to me a sober man who can set aside worry like a cold cup of juice in the winter, please let me talk to him. If its the best time now,even the easiest,why is everybody stressing to not stress, stressing to enjoy it. You can't live life on someone else's hindsight can you? "Time regained is Paradise lost"
That's a quote from a book I recently read, I've been thinking about it pretty consistently for...let's say a week. Time may not seem so great now but look back in a few years and it will seem great. I'm not going to type out everything I've come to over this quote but a few things I will divulge. A reason time of the past seem so paradise like could be that at the time it did not seem so great, that the challenges appeared far larger then they actually are but were felt as heavy as they actually were. You knew the time was good, you felt the thrill of the Chase, the loss of breath from the fall, the sweet cushion of dooming feelings. Those times tho, were not without pain with which to give the strong contrast. Feel the wrenching sting, the gut twisting fear and the relief was all the greater. Life in gray is no life to have hindsight of
Bah
I like that word
I'm working on grammer
-ian

I can't decide, or don't want to choose a side, to evoke emotion and Passion, tears and fears, of the past and near ha. With music or words. Yes they go hand in hand, but a book is entirely different from a song, either in the praise it recieves or the audience it gathers. It seems in my disability to decide, the choice must be neither. For should I not whole heartedly pursued or have pursued one of them?? I don't think so...but I don't know

you and ten thousand others

Why do we want the things we want, the moments of a random chase run through a strange building witha girl, Or the picket fence Or the Girl who isnt like al the other girls.Because medie and society shows thats what we should want? Im not sure,not sure at all. There are parts of me that i know were society programmed to want certain aspects of life, Yet others i know society couldnt change or begin to touch or form if they tried, Idea's and wishing dreamful fantacies. Are they of my own creataion? i havent the slightest. Did God give them to me, or did he simply hardwire my brain a certain to create and turn at its own will. A shovel is to dig, but in which direction and how deep i dig is entirely up to me.

Thats all for now, a tid bit snatching up my time

really, i do want to watch the movie. But its such a good movie, that left a mark on me that i can still feel, even after all these years. watching it in such a breezy fashion seems unfair. on a computer full of sparkling distractions. i cant turn of our modem, so our cable phone and internet will be cut off. But harold crick demands an audience. i am no fit viewer,supressing a chuckle as he swings the lamp post in a madness induced by the foretold immenence of his own death. The mirror shot in this movie has to be one of my favorites. We see what he see's. his flustered and reddend face screaming into the mirror. Spittle escaping his lips at a dull drum pace.Only to leave emptier. This is no scene for chuckling. Yet i find one needing to be supressed none the less. He eats the cookie, his first homemade warm and gooey cookie in his entire life. The contrast on his face is wonderful, dull and longing to leave, to stalled and amazed. Appreciate the simple. if the plot doesnt move foward by you refusing to go thru the door, the plot has changed instead, your story did not continue thru the door.

it seems this school year is drawing to a close, decisions are ahead. im not to inspired to share anything big right now, so ide rather just keep at nothing, then short change something, you know, tall change worthy. college essay is finished, my english teacher is looking at it, he's pretty cool, a little stuck on the idea of college and having to have an education to make something of yourself, i disagree entirely with the whole system of thought there, a ballerina shouldnt feel stupid because she couldnt pass english and anatomy, she's a ballerina right? she's passed thru twelve years of learning, so she knows more then twice the neccesarry amount to be well educated. But i think people say college is for the experiance, i dont want to be with a bunch of self pleasing, self important, wasted people, if thats the experiance then forget it, but if college is like the island in Brave new world, for people who arnt happy with being the same, or being told what to think, then maybe

ive finshed a few books lately, Brave new world, Bird by bird, lame book where the mother dies, Girl who fell from the sky,lord of the rings, water for elephants, Perks of being a wall flower, and two more but the titles escape me at the moment.Right now im reading Evasion, its about someone who is sick of corporate greed and the boring idealness the is forced upon the "american way" so he becomes a hobo, travling every where by train or hitch hiking, eating from dumpsters, getting money from receipts. i think he's very brave, trusting he'll not die, or maybe even not caring if he dies, he just lives, why worry about dying when your alive?

fleet foxes live in dallas were AMAZING, best concert ive been to, Robin's pitch was PERFECT better then the cd. we arrived four hours early to the show and while waitiing the front(as in first) of the line, we heard them doing sound check, So we went to the back to get a better listen. It really started to rain, i mean torrential downpour rain, so we got closer and all of a sudden two dudes come out of the door and invite us up to the covered ledge cause its "really comeing down man" he introduced himself as casey, out came four more guys, we sort of small talked. i later found out that they were really the drummer, pianist and guitar player of fleet foxes, AND I HAD NO IDEA, they had shaved their beards so it was hard to recognize. after the show in short, i met robin, he played and signed my acoustic, and said he'd really been wanting one(71 yamaha). it was almost as if i were glowing inside, lame to be so star struck, he's only human after all. Thats were the glow came from tho, seeing and talking to someone who i had elevated to a mystical diety, who's talent and grace was far above the likes of a mere mortal such as myself. Great to see fame doesnt turn all into whip logans.

well enough bad writing and grammer.
inadeqescy fill you
-bah

....

i once heard from a thoughtfull person, that "silence is the next best thing to bliss." Everyone is so chatty, trying as hard as they can to at least cause a ripple in our tsunami wave sized days.But why are the most respectful times, a time of silence. Words have un deniable and un fathomable power,yes. When word after word is spoken tho, they lose their intended effect. They no longer mausage the ear into letting words enter our brain to form coherent thoughts. Now instead they bash away until numbness is all we have left. If you ate all hours of the day, meals would no longer be sought after, and would become dull and bothersome traditions. So how can we appreciate the words seldom spoken, when they are indeed not, seldom spoken. i dont need words to be flowing out of my mouth constantly, if this is the case, my words have become bland and thoughtless.

Cheap laughs are just that, cheap laughs. Making someone laugh is deffinatly a worth while venture, it lengthens life and all sorts of good stuff, but a joke at the expense of some kid, or a dirty nasty joke that has no need of being uttered in this tongue or in the black tongue of morder. is just wasted breath

i could ramble on and on, but i dont feel the need to heavily right now, i really have to go to the bathroom, and i like to finish these in one swoop, serving the dish while its hot and all, so all im saying is, let a little more silence creep into your life.


Look into the air, E.I.T.S
-ian