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04:51am 14/03/2008
  "the panther has freedom in his jaws."-Franz Kafka  
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12.   
04:50am 14/03/2008
  the night brims full with cries of a youth
too stifled to call life their own
subservient to a throne

it summons up a sliver of hope
and bleats it out in moans
and though the sky is limitless
the core remains in stone

what's it like to feel alone?
please don't drown in your own moat
belief's organic enterprise
the ever-changing coat		  
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11.   
04:45am 14/03/2008
  lancing through masses of trees
on a stiff return from being free
we ride metal beasts
like a family.

something nuclear, soaking up
everything anyone meant to be
we journey.		  
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10.   
04:43am 14/03/2008
  to all the battered bleeding broken hearts
who soaked up a cent of what someone had to sing:
I understand.

control, command, the urge to muse
when everything's thoroughly diffused?
something ran away

and I had an idea the other day.
my insides asked,
    "why does it all feel like a game?"

it couldn't be explained.

like an endless chess match on a circular plane
the framework remained.

and back I laid,
in awe of man's energy and determinance
in creating something completely outside
himself.		  
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9.   
04:39am 14/03/2008
  keep me company, bolt-on brother
destroy what feels alone
buzz buzz buzz whirr click click clack
that relentless
    post-birth
    moan.

connect us in our minds and in our homes
through a mode
of information-gathering
extraneous knowledge one will never use
it turns into abuse
all rats pushing buttons
something more than used		  
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8.   
10:57pm 22/01/2008
  alpha males, alpha males
joyfully wag their alpha tales
send up signals with their eyes.
no masters of disguise,

a simple need to redefine
rapid-fire, throbbing mind
back and forth, let's run the course

and match whatever we dream up
with the simple nuances, everyday.
can you find that in a play?		  
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7.   
12:20pm 20/01/2008
  what's there left to grasp
but an image of what's ceased to be,
crackling film on rusty screens

the queen.
everything will work as long as we believe
ideals can only perish
from an arrow, preconceived

a fragment of a dream
an inner monologue
a soap opera etching where we bleed
unhooking from what we've learned to call machine

but you'll manufacture an image of what you are
for me
to reel in all you need

but still eden beckons from long locks
it calls and it calls and it calls
sometimes the environment burns too bright
a need to withdraw, never too far
at all.		  
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6.   
05:41pm 16/01/2008
  why feed me but a fragment of the truth?
something in what the self builds
climbing up hills

with a pack never ceasing to overflow (pain)
needing no help with the load
being yourself, just someone else
just another control

push those buttons, program love
tell me what I want to hear
nothing's there for you, my dear		  
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5.   
02:04am 15/01/2008
  "this room looks better," she solemnly said,
I wondered if she'd pried open my head
looked inside, and asked:
"what is better?"		  
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4.   
02:08pm 14/01/2008
  another medium to walk across
a syllable to chew
what we mine us onto
breaks within itself.

and we're left with remains.
did he think,
    "in my position of power
             I'll take something away from him?"

whatever we impress the truth upon.
and grow, palms outstretched, towards the dawn

was it really all too much
to keep me on your side?
drawing lines across the great divide
    circumscribe
and taste the knowledge, so so unrefined
and all our salient hours will subside

we run run run amok when hair blows in the eyes
the heart's subtle transmission
open from the sides

feeling naked, so exposed, there is no compromise
    let's pour a glass of meaning
eject outliers with sighs

a hunter to his quarry, a burning torch of pride
we set the traps inside ourselves
we fall in, spurned by lies

a semi-panicked formal verb
an honest state of mind
did they tell you I'd be here?
did you read the guide?

like a wondrous patient
laid out on a slide, I subside
and experiment with something deep inside
"it's all about your framing,"
                she said.

and so, we re-align.		  
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3.   
02:48pm 12/01/2008
  most of what it is
is trouble fitting, filling it in
being to places we've been.

observing love and lust and sin
are merely thumbprints, on the brim
of a hat that everyone's worn

and feeling ripped. and feeling torn.
on the brink of something blindly scorned
by all		  
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2.   
12:31am 11/01/2008
  the deadweight
(when you need something to hold)
the burn's bad standing alone
feeling bones grow old.

everything you've ever tasted
feels artificial now
coated in synthetic sweetness
shutting down the frown

for a quick second, days and nights
telescope themselves
all the hours we earn, erase
fly back off the shelves

and do a pretty dance,
and slide back and forth
without the hum of every heart
we can't tell south from north		  
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1.   
06:37pm 10/01/2008
  full steam ahead
milking up the rainwater
breaking daily bread

and taste everything time has claimed it's own
(that moment seems to rear its ugly head)
siphon out consumption's tainted lies
feed the self on scraps of laughter, dread's

swift wings bring a freshness
to a place so destitute
ride the reins, of vowels, sane
filling in the truth

a mold that's easy to permeate
a frame too precarious to care
iron builds what we can't see
with frost, we chill the air

let's grab our dreams, boys and girls.
are there dynamics in what we see?
nothing but a palimpsest, a dream upon a dream

the effort
the urge to realign
prove (ideals) are not just toys
on assembly lines.

of a thousand generations too buried to define
their boundaries for themselves, within the storm
took faith in god, in capital, in rebellion
everything they couldn't see.

among concrete forests sprawling here to
    telling me where it all ends, so I can
    trace (around) the edges
and re-educate the self to learn and live and love again
something missing in the books
where life begins and ends.		  
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01:59am 15/10/2007
  if you haven't read the meditations of marcus aurelius, you need to do so. right now.

i'm not kidding. it will help with whatever "situation" you're in
and i've learned to control the urge to generalize

but i really think "a lot of people" could really benefit from it!

books...check em out		  
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04:41am 01/03/2007
 
music: modest mouse
new mouse=teh sex

i am now nocturnal.

mwaaaahahaha		  
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01:03am 07/02/2007
 
music: Gipsy Kings and some crazy moroccan boy
the past few days have been exhilirating/scary

i dont know how i can possibly be an artist

its the most insane thing ever.		  
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05:00pm 05/02/2007
  www.myspace.com/servingapollo

my life for the past oh, six months or so		  
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j'ai vole ca par un ami   
03:26am 09/01/2007
  I swear, I was indie back in 8th grade.

Now I just dont care anymore. Back then life was good, I spent my nights at the scene, sipping on flavored water and driving around in my black jetta. During the day, my friends and I discussed our liberal yet realistic politics over a picnic of organic foods while smoking clove cigarettes. We roamed all around Montreal, buying new scarves and scouring thrift stores for pre-worn quasi-underground semi-artistic clothing. We would travel in packs of 15 or more, changing the lineup often enough to make sure we never became "mainstream". Life was good... It was hot wearing a sweater all the time, but it was a better life.

Someday, I will be happy like that again, and drive a hybrid. I will live the better life, with me, the scene, my band which will most definitely end in "... project" or begin with "The" followed by something that doesnt require "The", my glasses will have frames at least one inch thick, I will grow my hair out, but not style it to assure that I am not confused with an emo kid, I WILL work my way up to that middle management job at Borders, I will be happy again, but not happy enough that I wont appreciate 28 minutes of pure instrumental post-rock ambient music.

Ambient post-rock that comes from a band that puts their cds in recyclable cardboard sleeves, of course.

on a side note:
i dont care how pretentious you think thom yorke is, i think he's god. haha.
at least listen to pretentious music coming from someone who's actually talented, as opposed to people who simply can't play music but simply state they're "approaching it from a different angle"

guess what kids, you can be nouveau AND good at a frigging instrument. haha. it happens.		  
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03:10am 06/01/2007
  google earth fucks with your head.  
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07:31pm 12/11/2006
  je crois que le mot est en train d'etre plus difficile pour m'exprimer.
je ne sais pas ce que je peux ecrire, mais je crois que il y a des choses que je dois discuter.
qu'est-ce que je dois faire?		  
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