Shoreline was real. I fell in love with a small handful of girls. It was a great fucking weekend. I'll try harder.
I bought a wintersleep cd. They're a good band. Real good. Two hours traffic kicked the show off in a great way for me. It rained hard, but it felt right.
Communication aint easy.
We're all living the same life, we just all have different pasts, and different futures.
Damn i'll bring them to their knees.
I was happy with how i did. Interestingly enough, i'm happy i left room for improvement. That being said, i do think i played well.
Thanks to everyone that came, that was super cool.
Driving home, it's about 12:35 and i'm nearing the turn off for the rural, just following upei/browns court. I pull in to the turning lane, and then i pull out of the turning lane. I realize a place i'd rather go.
So i walk up the familiar steps of the church on the hill, guitar in hand, and i start playing wolf at the door. I was still in drop d, so that didn't hold for long, but after retuning i decide to go into you never wash up after yourself. And creep closely followed.
There's something really great about loudly singing/playing songs outdoors in a city, and still feeling isolated.
There's something really strange about two high school boys approaching me at 1am with talk about how it's cool to play incubus, then showing me their machete and making me an offering from their container of still smokable cigarette butts.
Really strange indeed.
We've got different senses, and these senses are feeding us some info. And we feel things. And we try and figure out why we feel things based on our senses. But sometimes what our eyes and ears tell us isn't enough. Therein lies the life-long confusion. But it's not so bad, not so bad at all.
I firmly believe that anyone can achieve what they want out of life.
I believe that there is no difference between having faith in yourself, and having faith in God. I believe God's intentions for us are our intentions for ourself. And i believe in a thing called love.
How strange is the idea of someone having put on 'perfect make-up'? What gives us the idea that we know enough to classify anything as an imperfection?
Whatever and ever, amen.
She said the truth would come crashing down on me,
That i'd be sorry but the truth of it is
That i feel guilty for not giving a shit."
- Ben Folds Five "Julianne"
I'm doing real good.
I bought a wintersleep cd. They're a good band. Real good. Two hours traffic kicked the show off in a great way for me. It rained hard, but it felt right.
Communication aint easy.
this might make sense.
We're all living the same life, we just all have different pasts, and different futures.
I've said it before. I will say it again, it's just something i like to listen to, something i like to say, something i like to feel.
Damn i'll bring them to their knees.
All things considered, i can be assured that this is a step along my path that was necessary to take. So any feeling of regret is basically impossible.
I was happy with how i did. Interestingly enough, i'm happy i left room for improvement. That being said, i do think i played well.
Thanks to everyone that came, that was super cool.
Driving home, it's about 12:35 and i'm nearing the turn off for the rural, just following upei/browns court. I pull in to the turning lane, and then i pull out of the turning lane. I realize a place i'd rather go.
So i walk up the familiar steps of the church on the hill, guitar in hand, and i start playing wolf at the door. I was still in drop d, so that didn't hold for long, but after retuning i decide to go into you never wash up after yourself. And creep closely followed.
There's something really great about loudly singing/playing songs outdoors in a city, and still feeling isolated.
There's something really strange about two high school boys approaching me at 1am with talk about how it's cool to play incubus, then showing me their machete and making me an offering from their container of still smokable cigarette butts.
Really strange indeed.
And here i am. And i feel good. Make it believable.
We've got different senses, and these senses are feeding us some info. And we feel things. And we try and figure out why we feel things based on our senses. But sometimes what our eyes and ears tell us isn't enough. Therein lies the life-long confusion. But it's not so bad, not so bad at all.
I firmly believe that anyone can achieve what they want out of life.
I believe that there is no difference between having faith in yourself, and having faith in God. I believe God's intentions for us are our intentions for ourself. And i believe in a thing called love.
How strange is the idea of someone having put on 'perfect make-up'? What gives us the idea that we know enough to classify anything as an imperfection?
I would like to stop thinking that everything bad that happens to me is tied into a lesson i'm supposed to learn. This thinking only makes me dwell on what i consider to be negatives. Who decides what's good or bad anyway, how wrong could i be?
Whatever and ever, amen.
"My friend she told me she felt sorry for me
She said the truth would come crashing down on me,
That i'd be sorry but the truth of it is
That i feel guilty for not giving a shit."
- Ben Folds Five "Julianne"
I'm doing real good.
I got some good thinking in today. I'm really very pleased with it. I look forward to writing a book. I feel like it might shake things up a little bit.