********************

Photo

Thu, 26 May 2011 18:08:07 -0400

Photo

Mon, 23 May 2011 20:54:23 -0400

Photo

Fri, 13 May 2011 02:52:02 -0400

change in agenda

Wed, 04 May 2011 19:35:28 -0400

this site is going to be my outlet for writing practice over the summer. i don’t care if anyone reads it, it’s primarily for personal reference. i think i do better when i post it online because i spend more time making sure it’s not terrible first.

passing time in an empty room

Wed, 04 May 2011 02:04:00 -0400

There’s no sleep in an empty room

Not for me at least

I don’t know how people out there do it

Were their first nights alone just like this?

Did the empty walls echo their thoughts?

So loud, so overbearing

That a low volume television can’t drown out

Or a mixtape made for sleep

Or even counting sheep

Did they go out for a smoke?

Just to see another living person

“I don’t care if he mugs me,

Maybe then I’ll feel safer alone”

And for that split second

You feel like a little kid again

Checking doors, and under the bed

Remembering that scene from a movie

Your parents told you not to watch

It would give you nightmares

20 years later they’re still right

Did they have to sit down write?

To pass the time along

Constantly checking behind them

There was a noise in the hall.

Or did they just lay there?

Softly

Sound

Asleep

Did they ever dream of a different life?

And wake up disappointed

Maybe even depressed

When they woke to their real world

This world

Consisting of problems made by other people

Who don’t ever have to sleep alone?

I hope they dream of a living hell

Just so they know how I feel right now….

Or maybe….

I’ll just close my eyes

Until tomorrow morning

this is from the night me and my girlfriend met back in june at...

Tue, 03 May 2011 01:21:00 -0400

this is from the night me and my girlfriend met back in june at bonnaroo. this picture didn’t show up until today. we didn’t know each other when this was taken either. later that night we split from the group and hung out the rest of the time and ended up dating by the time summer ended. the universe operates in the strangest ways.

yesterday

Mon, 02 May 2011 14:39:40 -0400

consisted of almost all of my favorite things.

as a result

today sucks just a little bit more.

i completely forgot about this. when i was little i saw this...

Wed, 27 Apr 2011 12:21:21 -0400

i completely forgot about this. when i was little i saw this commercial, wrote this phrase on a piece of scrap paper then handed it to my parents and ran off. it got them to subscribe for me.

oddfuture: Tyler is On The Cover Of The Newest Issue Of...

Wed, 27 Apr 2011 00:22:12 -0400

oddfuture:

Tyler is On The Cover Of The Newest Issue Of NME.

OF is taking over. The world of hip hop/rap is about to change.

not because i’m jealous of anyone seeing them in memphrica...

Tue, 26 Apr 2011 23:54:26 -0400

not because i’m jealous of anyone seeing them in memphrica this weekend, but because this song is beautiful. and i’ll be seeing them like three times or more this summer.

"You Are Beneath Me" is so goddamn good that it's ridiculous. Have you heard the ep of YABM songs with a female vocalist?

Mon, 25 Apr 2011 22:57:28 -0400

I haven’t, but I’m going to have to check it out. The only weak part about the original album is the vocalist’s style, but it definitely grows once you adjust to it.

.....

Mon, 25 Apr 2011 11:17:56 -0400

This is a story I did for writing class. After receiving a 95 and having a well-received reaction upon reading to the class, I have a newfound confidence in it. Please read it if you’ve got a little time to spare, it’s a quickie, and filled with symbolism and all other kinds of creative shit.

The Sleeping Man

I used to want to be a writer. I thought it would be the highest level of accomplishment, making a living off of writing. I would think of the outcome, a sole creation occupying a reader’s mind in their moments of solitude. The amount of respect given to writers largely surpasses the amount given to most people, but the market is saturated in so many ways: every person feels like they have a novel inside of them. For many, the desire to express their words to the public burns so deeply, and so the publishing companies are swarmed with the bundled heaps of papers filled with the hopes and dreams. Alongside these hopes is the fear of rejection as well.

I used to think out loud in front of this same laptop staring at a blank document, writing then erasing, writing, erasing, writing, erasing, etc. It evenly emulated the thought process of my mind, thinking then rejecting. Sometimes I would even write many pages of something, only to delete it once I later realized the idea was nothing special. There’s nothing worse than realizing something you thought was unique and provoking was actually bland and boring. Until recently this cycle was on repeat in my cognitive system. Thanks to this soul shifting moment I no longer stress the ails of searching for that long lost idea, an idea that no previous author could have imagined, or in other words, some next level shit.

The nighttime was no different than any other late night; my roommate and I follow similar sleeping schedules, so it’s only on the truly late nights that I experience complete solitude. If it weren’t for my biological clock consistently waking me earlier than necessary, these late nights would happen more often. It’s always those cigarettes late at night when no one’s around that keep you from quitting, the spare five minutes where your world stops, and your thoughts are the loudest. Any normal college dorm at 2am still experiences a decent amount of students roaming the grounds, but at this conservative school you would think there was a curfew at 11pm. I myself had run out of work to do but the ADD medicine and coffee wouldn’t let me sleep, and in these cases a cigarette is the only form of retaliation, something comforting when you can’t stop shaking.

I don’t normally anticipate company on these ventures, but on the times company is received, the most interesting conversations take place. The sky was filled with clouds and the city lights reflected off of them to create a moonless atmosphere. Something told me I had been here before in a dream, which complimented the dreamlike state I was in. The night was so silent I felt like I was frozen in a moment of time, and that the surrounding environment now belonged to me. Though I knew this wasn’t true, I made the conscious decision to roam freely. Nobody does this anymore, but in order to feel a true connection to your surroundings, you mustn’t set limits other than private property. I decided to put myself on a personal quest: every night I sleep with my window open, and hear the same odd noise, tonight was the time to find the source of the noise. This was not a mission for knowledge, but rather consolation, furthering the bond between my surroundings and myself. Imagine how much better one can sleep when they know what noises they hear at night.

First standing under my bedroom window, I listened closely in order to generate a mental navigation system. Every night in no specific intervals I hear a loud banging, like a gunshot far in the distance, yet too frequent and close to be such thing. Its echo made its way down the street, indicating it being in a rather open space, or so I assumed. At this point my mind had already made several conclusions, but nothing entirely too clear, due mostly to my lack of industrial knowledge. Further into the night I continued without any answers. Shortly thereafter, the sound drew further away, but I continued to walk, nowhere close to tired. It was at this point when I realized I was no longer in search of anything, but I couldn’t turn around just then. Something deep down inside me did not feel complete, and ending my stroll through the abandoned area would have kept me feeling incomplete. I needed to feel whole.

I reached a loading dock with the lights still on, beaming down on a homeless man asleep in the night. The makeshift bedding and comfort in the most unsuspecting place struck a fascination. One could even go so far as to say I envied the man, and he will never know. The ties that bind me down keep wrapped around me tightly, and my body is permanently sore as a result. Seeing a man devoid of these ties brought no pity, though I hope he has found his own form of happiness and well being, or does so in the future. Without a doubt I believe that the sleeping man has seen more than anyone who occupies the building in the daylight, the building that serves as his resting place tonight. He sleeps alone but with the connection to the city that I was in search of. However, maybe he is not who I perceive him to be. The sleeping man could be a thief, murderer, drug addict, or a man who lost his job and had no choice but to move out; maybe the sight of me makes him feel even worse. We exist on two separate levels and largely misunderstand each other, because we cannot comprehend our differences. I want to tell him what he has taught me but fear the resentment that could come forth.

I wanted to bear a message from the bottom of my heart to those who sleep in the city streets, but my ignorance to the overall lifestyle of a drifter makes for inappropriate circumstances. Not every man on the streets is a modern day Kerouac, writing their experiences, on a spiritual venture throughout the vastness of America; to make such a generalization was indeed preposterous. And so we remain separate, staying loyal to the tiers of social class to which we so neatly follow. According to these social norms, I don’t belong here right now. I belong asleep in my room so I can go to class the next day able-bodied and capable of generating the highest possible output into the cogs of the machine. I belong in a state of consistency, because my parents did not allow me to follow my adventurous childhood aspirations, for it was far too dangerous. Had they enabled me to do so, I could have ended up on the streets by now, and then how would they look as parents? Not so good.

My mission was still empty, but I felt complete. I had left the room to find something else, and I had done so. But the only question now was the unfamiliar territory in which my feet had led me. I felt trapped in the world once again; only this time trapped somewhere unfamiliar. Likewise, someone was bound to find me, and take advantage of my compromised situation. At this point in my journey, the lights darkened, the air felt colder, and my stomach felt like a vacuum. That was when I heard it: the sound from before. The sound that brought me outside, granted me direction into the night, and would now serve as my guide home. The sound occurred significantly less now, for whatever reason, but the direction provided served a divine purpose. Soon enough I could see the top of my apartment building once more. That was when I found the source of the noise as well: a metal sheet in the center of the road.

The sheet itself was thick but covered something hollow in the middle of the road, for all I knew it could be covering an entrance to hell itself. Every car that passed over caused the noise, these people paying no mind to what they have done. Each driver who has driven over this sheet previously will never know the effect it had on me. The drivers, coming from all walks of life, will never receive notification of their drive leading one soul on an aimless quest, resulting in his unique revelation of a sleeping man. Then I realized we are all the catalysts of the paths one takes in life. This lone venture into the night served as a metaphor to an even bigger picture. The actions we take and the choices make sometimes extend further than our conscience is capable of comprehending; one can never fully understand the true velocity of any occurrence within this world.

So I learned from my path that writing a novel is unnecessary. This is especially true if my only desire is to reach the status of a distinguished author. Treating every piece of work as if it were going to make me money was a fruitless venture to begin with; but I did not want the money. I wanted to reach out and have an effect on others through something created, but I learned that this happens without our trying. As an existing part of this universe a single man possesses infinite capabilities, therefore I have already reached my goal tenfold. And finally, after a night of searching, I could put myself to rest once again.

i made this video for my presentation tomorrow which i entitled...

Wed, 20 Apr 2011 22:52:54 -0400

i made this video for my presentation tomorrow which i entitled The 420 Campaign. the presentation is based on the propaganda of anti-marijuana campaigns, and this video is my introduction that displays all the various types of propaganda, and i threw in a Ween song because it fits so well.

mullet action shot

Mon, 11 Apr 2011 14:18:32 -0400

mullet action shot

3 research papers at once

Wed, 06 Apr 2011 20:58:57 -0400

ENGL 3830: An analysis at the differing viewpoints of socialized healthcare

ENGL 3850: A detailed research paper on the effectiveness for the campaigns for/against legalization of marijuana

ENGL 3610: How and why languages become endangered/extinct

crunch time.

Photo

Tue, 05 Apr 2011 21:49:48 -0400

Photo

Tue, 05 Apr 2011 19:00:39 -0400

“you can start by paying me back for that 8...

Tue, 05 Apr 2011 16:16:21 -0400

“you can start by paying me back for that 8 ball”

“we were gonna share it”

“wanna do some now?”

i think i’d rather listen to old...

Mon, 04 Apr 2011 08:26:00 -0400

i think i’d rather listen to old country/americana/bluegrass or even blues/soul over pretty much anything else. at least for now.

reading list

Fri, 01 Apr 2011 07:43:00 -0400

i’ve started taking books over blogs

House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski (finished but highly recommended)

Winesburg, Ohio by Sherwood Anderson

(read last semester but still, best book i’ve had to read for school)

Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins (almost done)

Even Cowgirls Get the Blues by Tom Robbins

Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer

Galapogos by Kurt Vonnegut

Seymour by J.D. Salinger

listen to:

Generation of Vipers “Grace”

Polar Bear Club “Chasing Hamburg”

Tyler, The Creator “Bastard”