Playing house

Cuts that were supposed to be short

merely

Wanton paths leading to something less

than even

emptiness

Perpetual denial;

because everyone loses all games

so definite.

Kids with counterfeit woe

everyone laughs

even so

everyone cries

What are we even supposed to be feigning?

Go away,

Stow away.

Youre

Negligent concern

How am I gonna

save the world

with my hand glued to the bottle?

Tell me what to do

dilute delude

urge

osculate

reservation of reverence

visible visceral

nagg no

domicile

to barrier

the perturbation of the pert

Elude

I wish somebody'd up and save me.

not I

Two Thousand and Three Words

This weather rules.

Devotion

is only destructive.

I think I'm getting shin splints.

My body's running but I don't see why it bothers.

On the day that your mentality decides to try to catch up with your biology

Come round.

Because I want the one I can't have and it's driving me mad it's all over my face.

LOL good thing no one reads this.

Even though it will take me even LONGER to read Stein this way, I will listen to the first half of meat is murder for another 40 minutes because it's exactly how I feel, and have since the 7th grade hahaa.

I am proud to announce I will be going to a show alone tonight. Well not QUITE alone.

My wrists

hurt from typing.

wtf

"Woman must destroy in herself the desire to be loved."

-Mina Loy in her Feminist Manifesto

Secret basement show was awesome

Dragged to a party by some pals- after filling my waterbottle with beer cuz i wasn't bout to buy a "cup" I heard noises from oozing from below and realized there was a cool fucking show in the basement. Slutever apparently opened again, but I missed them, Factors of 4 was pretty cool, I really freaking loved Vermillion Sands, a sweet italian band. Pretty sure Jordan scared the lead singer afterwards because he's a funny creep. Omar ended the show and people got jumpy and fun, I was craving a little more pushmosh though. I'm really starting to realize how other people behave at shows is almost as important as how hard the band kills it(if they kill it atall).

Donno why I'm typing it, but the party was basically perfect because upstairs on the tele was a South Park marathon. How did they know exactly what I wanted out of a night even when I didn't? c0lL3gE is magic.

Went home tonight which was weird but nice I guess. Tryna enjoy dat fallness in the air, but I'm feelin' strange.

It sucks when

You wake yourself up from the best dream you've ever had

Being sucked down a river, I didn't care where it took me, I slid over slimy rocks and all of my books floated away. I lost all of my books and my jacket and I lost track of you too.

I was late to class but that was the least of my worries beacause

Pretty sure there's a duck quacking directly outside of my window

As my list of movies to watch this summer grows, my expectations shrink.

Not to say I am losing hope in the amount of fun that will be had, just sayin I think I may be getting better at keeping my hopes down.

That doesn't read right either- I hold no reservations. Or do I? I wish to accomplish a few simple goals but I will not be uprooted if I fail to do so.

For now, I will continue to throw things in enviro and watch 2-3 movies a day.

For some reason, this has been in my life a lot lately:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XweNcNPZ7vE

lol

And my horoscope has been alarmingly accurate

"The earth does not need me, but I do need the earth"

Although my eyeballs are close to completely dried out, I do not blame Rivers and Tides- at least not in a negative way.

It was fitting: it captured and complimented Andy Goldsworthy's vast collection of work. Some cuts seemed to tickle just as I would imagine stumbling across his work in the wilderness would. Others teased, showing clips of a nearly finished piece, only to later flash back to it being overtaken and put into play by nature. The merging of both diegetic and non-diegetic sound made the images on screen that much more satisfying.

As one of the first pieces we see Andy focus on for an extended period of time is swallowed by the sea, he explains that this process does not feel at all like destruction for his pieces are a gift he gives to nature, and nature accepts.

His admiration of movement and change was illuminated not only through his words, but through his actions as well. In fact, at one point towards the end of the movie he tells us that "words do their job, but what I do means so much more".

To say the least, I find his lifestyle and work incredibly endearing. Each new creation, no matter how simple or complex it was, how dark and deep or light-hearted, made me smirk.

His patience, intuition, and originality seem never ending. This film was refreshing and stimulating. Weee

In other news, frogs are taking over the world.

It felt just like old times

Unbearably self conscious, lazer beams of hatred shooting out of each surrounding pair of eyeballs, wanting desperately to leave but also wanting to stay, wanting to hide but also completely incapable of tearing yourself away from what seems at the moment the most intimidating crowd of your life.

An outsider wouldn't be able to fully understand. One may sense the soypudding thick tension clogging the entire campus of the venue, he or she will probably mistake it for first-time-participation-jitters. It is not. Every Doylestown show of this genre ever since I can remember has been like this. And I wouldn't want it any other way.

Although it is possible to find some relief when stepping outside of the teen center or church or lodge in which the concert itself is taking place, it seems impossible to rid of your churning stomach and/or desperate fidgiting until the end of the evening.

The show I am currently referring to was the Tigers Jaw/Balance and Composure Split release at CUMC- dangerously close to Doylestown in both location, sound, and ambience. Saturday May 15th, 2010 was quite a long day to say the least. After a cuddle, making some cookies, running around in some sunning around, we ended up at CUMC sometime after 6- but let me tell you it felt like 2pm.

The first couple bands were cute- I was impressed by Fear n Loathing's set. I bopped my head around to Man Overboard n stuff- pretty charming. We all had to take a break from the pressure of the indoors and escaped for some cookies. Upon our return, dusk was settling in so we grabbed a wedgie burger/dog combo for only $5-$&^%$#@@!

Daylight was not bad, Transit was coolish, and I actually really enjoyed End of a Year.

Of course, the highlight of my night was singing into Adam McIlwee's microphone- especially during Tigers Jaw's encore of Chemicals (I'm happy that Casey always gets what she wants except for at Beach House when them bitches don't play Saltwater for us).

Balance and Composure's songs are really long, k? I guess it is mandatory for me to add that there were a few songs I didn't completely mind, I was just really super tired at the end and wasn't patient enough for their overwhelmingly long set.

All in all, a great day. Hope there is another similar show 10-15 minutes from both of my residences sometime. I'm a sucker for those butterflies in my belly.

Confine

I sat in the center of the Sax, my default "I don't know where else to go" spot. The comfy chair was taken and the corporate aliens were working which meant no free tea- and Jack Johnson. Needless to say I kept my headphones in place, gloomgaze oozing out all the while. Rifling through some enviro, my peripheral vision blurred, I began to feel like I was in the middle of the gymboree parachute: everyone else had lifted it up and I was now surrounded, seated in the middle.

My car gave me a headache and I couldn't get a good breath anywhere indoors.

It's time for a run

This ain't good but at least it's something.

Been smelling like smoke

And may have gotten better at not having expectations.

Flexibility always will be an important tool of teendom.

Slow dancing is where it's at

A Place to Bury Strangers

No other title seems suitable.

At least for APTBS' set, my setting resembled such a locality, both tactillicly and auditorily.

Even between songs, at least two players kept the airplane noise of doom goin' strong. Then tormented the audience with tantalizing build-ups followed by hypnotizing explosions of distortion.

And I ate it all up for dinner.

Not only did tonight sound like the funnest halloween I've ever had, but the band looked and even smelled the part as well. The light show consisted of a seemingly-purposefully-off-centered projection of some combination of Yes and Nirvana album art and graph paper. It shined as if turned on by a preoccupied substitute teacher who left the room to make copies, leaving the guitarist/vocalist in the dark only half of the time. Leaving me just enough time to catch a glimpse of his festive boxers: a pair covered with my favorite land creature. So like, who told him I loved bats?

The evil odor I speak of was a result of the two fog machines which I am now a firm believer are completely underrated. I should speak more of the catchy riffs and satisfyingly dance-able beats. Or how my entire body tingled at from start to finish. Or how MJ and I made it to Philly and back with ample time. However, watching the moon shrink back to its normal-sized whiteness and screaming Louder than Bombs louder than, well, bombs has seemed to have lulled me further into a daze and I must get a bit of sleep to fuel the prose portion of my Lit final tomorr- today.

My ears are almost back to normal which means I may have to travel to New York sometime in the nearish future and have my mind blown by "craziness".

I hope to dream of zombie Oliver Ackermann and his string-less guitar walking slowly through lingering fog and somehow catching up to me as I struggle to run in my Docs.

Misty Reflection

As mist stung my arms on this beautiful Monday evening, I recalled the events that made up my weekend that seemed to slip by quick as usual.

Friday was frisbee followed by baking. I baked Bambi's mini bleeding strawberry cupcakes and famous chocolate chips until I actually dropped. All worth it, of course, to hear reassuring "mmmms" and smiley munchers enjoying free music.

By fresh fire light, Tryina Be A Mammoth (http://www.myspace.com/tryinabeamammoth) began the evening of free music with a soulfully sweet set like no one but Joe could have. He began bravely with a new song he had just completed a few hours prior. The entire set could not have been more charming what with us all cozied on the carpet of the cigar parlor, eyes fixed on the Mammoth's magic hands. Occasionally, I'd catch him let out a characteristic (and contagious) giggle.

Me and my crew of treat carriers packed up and moved on to enjoy the next show at Esteticks. Delicate Steve from North Jersey (www.myspace.com/delicatesteve) pleasantly surprised just about everyone in the sneaks store. Color was everywhere and although this was an entirely different atmosphere and acoustics set up, the crowd assimilated immediately; in fact, I believe we all skipped past the headbobfoottap and went right to a hop.

Next stop was Sparta Philharmonic (http://www.myspace.com/spartaphilharmonic) at Siren. I always enjoy this band of brothers- lol-but seriously. I've seen them probably about 4 times at very different venues throughout the Doylestown area, and each time was equally as mind blowing. The pair excretes so much power, it's almost uncomfortable. Yet, it is impossible to turn away. I've honestly never seen so much passion condensed into a few live songs and I'm always yearning for that blast of crunch finale.

That Smell of Swamp

The sun's not so bad afterall.

The stars were better though.

Thangs I want to do soon:

See oscar-nominated shorts at the County

Have Devon pierce me somewhere

Read in the grass

Head butt someone

Run in trails

Blink 182... again and again and again and again and again....and again

Play bass and sing

Make Bleeding Cupcakes

Ninja Turtles

Scared of the Sun

I daydream of sleep almost all day

and wish for a nightmare at 11:11

Put a filter on it and

Tomorrow becomes brighter overnight.

When I Wake (I'm Still in a Dream)

It was one of those grey days

when you feel safe underneath the blanket of clouds.

Everything is muted:

The weather is mild and even

the sun is muffled, shining

strongly from an unimaginable amount of footsteps away,

trying to peak out of a puncture in the wool.

One of those days

when all you can do is listen to Simon & Garfunkel

and try to smile or cry and not be able to do either,

genuinely at least.

I've also had one of those eerie feelings like I've been remembering bits and parts of a dream I may or may not have had last night.

Or like I'm beginning to realize I can't wake up.

Disasters in the Sun

Sun, hollow friend -

his thick and unwholesome light

confounds the ignorant and

amazes the eyes.

Light is but sugar over the devil,

unpregnant of truth.

I am too much in the sun,

sick almost to doomsday.

Would the night were come!

Unmask her beauty,

the face of joy and mercy.

When the churchyards yawn

Hell itself breathes out justice to this world,

black night, full of truth, pure as snow.

Sleep, die - no more heartache

in the night's embrace.

-Ashley Tryba, Mary Jane Robinson, and William Shakespeare

Fucked Up was a little escape

Ben Cook, the third guitarist and back up vocals of the band, is my latest crush.

Keeping one eye on all 400+ pounds of Damian darting around the charmingly dingy room and the other on the stage, I found myself non-mosh-dancing in the middle of the standers.

Although I would have preferred to jump in with the rest of those crazy sweaty kiddos, I wasn't about to let no compression fracture leave me bummin' in the back during a show of this caliber; thus, girly head bang won again.

Two Snakes brought to surface images of the giant sand worm from Beetlejuice as usual, while Twice Born popped out seemlessly. A stupid smirk stuck on my face during the entirety of Black Albino Bones, and Crusades was epic - as expected.

It was all over in a flash but the ear-ringing and sweaty smiles of fellow fans was all endearing enough to dull the sad pang of another show over and another ride away from the city. But the truest remedy to a sunken heart is a Smiths-sing-along all the way home. And a cup of tension tamer tea. And some peanut butter pretzel nuggets.

Does anyone know how to make waterproof stickers?

Welcome, snows

You change all the lead sleeping in my head

Woolly Generalization

Note the evil glowing eyes outside

People telling me what I already know

When I was little and still lived in New Jersey, we went to my next door neighbor's pool one summer. It was the first summer I was "big" or something; I can remember being excited for a pool party and maybe going down the big slide and it being really bright.

I forgot my swimmies when I walked in.

It was really loud and I felt like I was being sucked into a whirlpool, but for some reason, I wasn't scared.

I know my dad saved me after only a few seconds, but for some reason, I had no judgement of time whatsoever. And I didn't care.

I've been thinking about my almost-drown experience often lately. Once you learn how to swim, the magic is gone. The lungs exploding portion included, I think drowning is pretty beautiful.

Simply taking and not giving

It's like the game that if you remember it, you lose.

Not caring is meditation all the time.

It's a bit rougher than a cut between the fingers. When you recall,

it not only rips open but restores you with false hope as soon as it reheals once more.

I need the hope supply blocked and cut off.

Degrading more every passing second like film, I need it to leave not come.

I printed my bat twice today.

Miles to go

Everytime I'm sure I can't go lower I'm wrong

I like when it is dark in the mornings

I wish it was always dark in the mornings and I could see the orange glow peek from behind the black tree skeletons everyday.

Today, I rubbed Elmer's glue on my hands and peeled it off in my next class.

Tonight, I went out to my favorite restaurant with some great loving people.

All of those nice, warm, cozy times seem to fade real fast lately.

At the end of the night, I end up alone and I forget which way is up.

Then "morning" comes

Walking backwards

Dreamt of watching skiers on the moon's moon

Tension in my chest came back

there's no in between

You know when you wake up from a good dream and everything just seems so much worse

All of the colors only made everything in reality more dull

The soreness in my bones came back

The girlfriend on TV said "Everything's going to turn out okay"

"How do you know?"

Gotta get out of my bed

fhqwgads

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V72NKRyX1NA&feature=channel