Be a world renown artist. A household name. white picket fences to impale yourself on.
We are almost done. Time does not exist. I now wear a watch. It represents nothing tangible to me. Other than a turquoise light and a ticking sound when held close to the ear. (smoke so much pot in your bedroom that the paint changes color)
Put all this weight on my back. I will not snap. I have gotten stronger and stronger yet.
My exercise routine destroyed.
Any contribution towards vocal excellence postponed.
How do I still procrastinate on assignments?
Today was a blur. Today, specifically. Woke up tired. Spent the day in a haze. I lived today in a haze of self-recollection. I thought about my life. My life as it is in the process of changing course. From here to the coast. Although preoccupied. Blinded by the stresses. Slept fitful and feverish for an hour or two around 5. Had thai beef for lunch. Very horrible conversationalist. (Go entire days without vocalizing more than a paragraph).
Probably why I am so angst-filled! All of this pent up emotion and remonstration! All of the words I use incorrectly and give no shit about. All of the people who I will disappoint greatly no matter what option I chose.
This is a classic case of the poisonous 'grass is greener' mentality. I have things here that I will not see the important of until later. What joy! I will regret not having had the courage or wherewithal to take advantage of such opportunities. As I did once I graduated high school. As I did once I graduated from Portland. As I will again. (And then again).
I am so incredibly itchy. My body vibrates violently with apprehension. Spend the day in front of a screen and it will drain your life. (Kill myself for recognition)
Forget it baby. I made the mistake already. Do not make me continue regretting it. A year later god damnit.
All you! All of you! And you! Wake up! Quit with your ignorance! Help me!
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Can't put a finger on what happened to me today. What excuse can I provide for such a sedate and physically insufficient day? I hardly made it to bass lessons. God forbid I had to travel by longboard. But I will speak no more. It is as such. (I hear a voice speaking these words aloud, with a distinct lisp. Some days I used to walk to class.)
Your diction flaws.
--------- all below this line written prior to that above --------------
This is a marathon, the last leg of it. One final rolling hill and then it levels off, they put ribbons across the street for us all to break through, into summer, into the arms of our undying love for adventure! More along the lines of our love for do-nothing laziness... Perhaps an ability to make girls laugh and small talk without any guilt about where our attention should be diverted. Should, could... Nothing comes back to life after it dies. Zombies stay dead and cemeteries are not the places we should worry about the dead coming to life anyway. More likely, movie theaters, pop-music concerts at $75 a ticket, to nosebleed, and faint... The dead go here to be with the dead. They once called the theater a spiritual place.
Soon though, dear princes and princesses, that gnawing sensation of near-fulfillment finally releases and we bask in the glory of sunshine and stress-free drinks by shade of summer umbrella. Who gives a damn about the music out here? I want to spend at least one day getting day drunk with friends by the pool. (I feel like if I brought anyone to Arizona from home, they would begrudge me for taking it for granted. I would want to slap them. Holy shit! How could you be tired of this!)
Bring anyone in. They would have an excellent time. Get laid, etc. Spend more time in record stores and coffee shops. An ideal marriage is necessary to tear the walls down between establishments... Coffee and Records. Java Records. Cafe Disco. Clunky, that last one. (el invierno más frío del que se tiene constancia).
I can't turn off the italics. Horribly frustrating for no particular reason except that I have basically zero patience with technology.
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