Friday, April 30, 2004

So here I am with nothing but my chicken dinner and a steak knife. Indeed. After yet another long night of video editing, I've got a video which can't be beat. I say it can't be beat because I doubt there's a rival video out there, but if there is I've got some slick production values that are bound to make all the other videos out there green with envy. Greener than this page, and perhaps greener than even the hulk himself. Arrruuugh? By now I've piqued your interest, and I'm sure that you're at the edge of your seat dying to see this video of Javann's well, I'm happy to say, NO video for you! You will not see this video because you aren't cool enough to. . .wait, you're very cool because you're sitting here reading the greatness that is Javann. So I'll tell the truth and say I'm not very cool because I don't have the space, the webspace that is to be able to show this incredibly incredible video to you. If there is someone out there with the type of webspace to host say, a 33 MB video. . .then again. . .actually. . .never mind that's a huge type of video. If you want to see this masterful masterpiece (yeah I sound like the announcer from Batman) chances are you'll have to come to my location, or I to yours and we'll be sure to watch it. Either way, I've still got a two page paper to go with it that I've not done yet, so I'll be on my way.

My mood?

What do you mean I need sleep?

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

Yep. If you've not noticed I have been updating the blog regularly. Every Wednesday and Friday. Don't worry, you'll get everyday goodness (at least every week day goodness) right back at you soon enough, just let me get past some of these finals. I'd say something like, I should studying right now, but I'm really tired. Really really tired. From what? I can't sleep. Everything seems to want to be thought about right at the same time. I think I should first explain Friday's post. Call it artistic call it an eyesore, I call it creative. I also call it never to be done again. That was a horrid little piece of literary patheticness, and thank goodness some people actually took the time to read it. I'm proud of you few who struggled to understand the greatness that is Javann. As for the rest of you, well I'm not proud of you. Go cry in your endless guilt and shame. So what's been happening? Well Tuesday was the last day of class, though really for me it was Monday since I don't have any Tuesday classes. Finals are soon to be upon us, a time period when your entire semeseter rides on your remembering it. Needless to say, yours truly is less than enthusiastic, seeing how I do well to remember my name much less an entire semester of remembering my name. If my toes weren't attached to my foot, I'd lose my shoe all the time. Exactly, I forgot the punchline of that joke. Anyway, I've also been having bouts of insomnia, some nights I'm doing well to be sleeping at all much less seven to eight hours that every human needs. One of these days I will learn what it takes to go to bed at 9 or 10'oclock and not wake up at 2 sweating and unable to go back to sleep. I've also been building a list of music for a party, and I'll take all the help I can get. Leave your ideas for what you'd want to dance to at a party. I owe someone something or other. . .oh yeah. . .right. . . I forgot. Lets call this a day.
My mood?

Hulk smash or something. . .Hulk forget really.

Friday, April 23, 2004

Somebody unsuscribe me I'd like this newsletter to stop let me go ahead and click here because I know that's where I should click I guess its just another day, and with each day comes each others random thoughts covered in nothing always in something but not completely without nighttime to hide our faults and thoughts and things that we don't want anyone else to see but if we see what everyone else wants us to see then we'd all be ashamed to go outside into the light where there's so much color and life to be grasped have you grasped the light lately how can you grasp that which is not tangible just proof that a source of energy exists and is nearby evidence is rarely that which we want it to be often it is merely just something that makes us think something else how can you decide someones life based on what you think alone especially when that decision involves being responsible for such a young life in your hands they quiver and tremor and sometimes if you stare just long enough they look at you back in your eyes and you know at that moment that you've made the greatest mistake of your life because now you have more than just you and her its them to take care of and chances are you'll never really fully be able to do everything that is needed or maybe its just that the mind can never really be satisified because it can always imagine more than is possessed by the imaginee or maybe its the imaginer since the employee often works for the employer but if the employee dislikes his or her employer they should think more about trying to make sense or maybe they should make cents because getting paid is the point of work and if you don't work because you want the money then you don't really work you play or better you hobby around all day because you like what you do but that's the way that the counselor told me I should want to be but then that other counselor told me way back that I had issues and that I needed to be talked to over the course of time to be right in the head and I said I don't want to be right I want to be left behind again by all of my friends and here I am alone and when that happens I think about how much more like everyone else I could be and sometimes after I think that I really feel bad about myself because I know that regardless of who I am I'm me and I don't want to change but if I change I'll be someone else someone that everyone else seems to like me to be or maybe its just that everyone else wants to be that someone and so now they pretend to like that someone because they want to that doesn't make any sense so now the question is what exactly do I mean by change because that's what influences our time have you taken it to read this or did you stop at some other point chances are you've called it a day but this is what its like to live in my head above the brooklyn bridge beyond the clouds and stars there lives a great dragon who doesn't believe that humans exists and every day he eats a breakfast made entirely by humans and every night his dinner consists of human foodstuffs and as he roams about the house that was built for him by humans he continues to breath fire and say humans don't exists simply because he knows whats best just like father who always does everything right except for make his children happy or even just understand the emotions they have did I go to far I may have struck a nerve or maybe I've just struck out and I'm walking back to the bench and I know I mean I know I'm never going to have another chance to be what I want to be or do what I want but the entire walk back all I can think about is charleston chew its embedded in my brain like tattoo etched in my back of the worlds longest thought that never really ends just fades off into the distance bravely wondering and looking back and thinking that someday someone will eventually reach the end and discover that the pot of gold thing was nothing but a lie anyway I used to use the hose pipe to make my own rainbows and I'd half wish that there'd be at least a quarter down there or maybe a dime at least some silvery thing if not a pot of gold but then as I moved my head to look I noticed the rainbow got longer and before long the rainbow was a circle and I realized the pot of gold was the rainbow because that's what was as the end of it after this realization was made there was nothing left for me to do but to travel to Canada reading books about tour guides who were mass murdered by the same man who had a destest of the musuem all because at four some mean tour guide wouldn't let him have some ice cream I'm not living vicariously not so much as living precariously since there's nothing behind me and nothing in front of me no past no future nothing to catch myself on or to remind me that I am indeed human domo arigato Mr. Roboto with parts made from Japan I guess this means that when I fall apart I'll have to be shipped back piece by piece from where I came from for repair of my broken heart and of my aching back as well as my neck my neck and my back but to make a long story longer after I got to Canada I was greeted by this vat of beer who was just longing for me to drink it or maybe it was me longing to drink it but I dove right in and realized I couldn't swim so then I had to drink me way out but chances are I didn't because I woke up at 6:49 and realized I had less then ten minutes to call my own place of establishment and dwelling I could go on for days but for the moment we'll call this the end.
My mood?

Frozen thoughts flow better. . .

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

So I'm still working on my 5-7 page cultural analysis. Its on a music video, All Falls Down in fact, and to tell the truth the thing is going slowly. I've not had time to do much other than work on it, though I did write some stuff last night. And of course, since I'm pressed for time, I'm just leaving this and running. Sorry, kids and kidettes. I suggest you check out misconstruedthoughts.com. That way when it blowuptuates you can say you were down before anyone else was. So anyway, here's what I wrote.

You're everything I already knew,
like some part of me
Broke away and it became you,
because you know me.
When you talk I hear my voice too,
you've become me.
So much you know what I'll do
so completely.
I know I said I'd die for you
do you believe me?
When I say I can't live for you,
just trust me.
I'll definitely be the one for you
and you for me.
Together between us two,
you'll be me.

And here's another:

At night I sit and wonder if I'm sane,
there's got to be an imbalance in my brain.
I see people and I hear their voices.
All of them try to influence my choices.
Constantly talking telling me what to do,
nothing destructive, constructive like you.
Even if I'm alone, I'm caught into a zone,
this twilight car ride isn't taking me home.
I'd click my heels at the drop of a dime,
if some old lady would just give me a sign.
I could be fine,
back home with my aunt and her slaves.
decorating their graves
in glorious technicolor
blues blacks and reds
how did they all end up dead?

My mood?

That car looks mighty familiar. . .

Friday, April 16, 2004

So am I the only one who thinks the senseless slaughter and cultural mutilation of bread should end? Chances are you've participated in this mass slaughter and have even come to expect your bread to conform to it. What am I talking about? Sliced bread. That's right SLICED bread. Chances are that doesn't even bother you. Bread is wheat flour, water, leaven and other natural flavorings too. Why do so many people simply accept its being sliced and doled out for our general convenience? When's the last time you saw a loaf of bread that wasn't mutilated? I can still remember seeing the loaves run free in the bakery, content to never be sliced for someone else's consumption and enjoyment, and it brings tears to my eyes to think of the all the bread we've abused. The time is now, the hour is upon us, for us to stop this sad sad violence against the loaves of bread. From the small loaves of rye, to the large loaves of sourdough, who are we to determine that they should be so cruelly sliced and mistreated? Should we play the role of God when it comes to bread? The answer to that should be as simple as embracing a loaf of bread, or holding it by the hand, and saying to it, "Bread, you are as much a free loaf of bread as the first loaf ever produced from the oven. Will you have this meal with me?" I can see all the breads and humans dwelling together in unity. No toast is worth this kind of cultural reformation. None. Just the very thought brings tears to my eyes. Its moved me to compose this song about the subject.

Bread. Its not meant to be sliced.
Would you like it if someone diced,
you into pieces when you were fresh?
When you were at the peak, at your best?
Then why do you assault bread?
It won't bite back, at least until you're dead.
Someday it will rise and not in a good sense.
It will need some kneading, and what then?
How do you tell it that you want to cut?
To mutilate and still keep its trust?
The young loaves so impressionable,
truly believe that its something correctional.
Shame on you all with your toast,
shame on you all with your toast!
SHAME!!
SHAME!!
TOAST IS MURDER!!

My mood?

Didn't ever think I'd find a B-Boy stance with the Hulk, didja?

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

Ah deary me. What day is it again? If not for the large orange letters at the top of the page there, I'd forget what my name is. Howdy ladies and gents, who no doubt have stopped checking these hallowed chronicles for pieces of Javann's thoughts, this weekend was without a doubt, hectic. What happened? Well to quote a song,

Your best friend Harry has a brother Larry
In five days from now he's gonna marry
He's hopin you can make it there if you can
Cause in the ceremony you'll be the best man

Yeah, that's right, I was best man in a wedding. It wasn't Harry or Larry, it was actually Danny. Yep, Danny got married. Shocking indeed. But not something we didn't see coming from a mile off. Here's the really weird part: the reception was where I work at. SO I had to attend after setting up for it the day before. Yeah, fun. We did get our dance on (obviously) but most of my co-workers saw me breaking it down (as I am known to do) and they all tease me about it now. Not to mention the front desk clerk who has a weird obsession with me, who keeps begging me for pictures. Sigh. I hope Jamaica has awesome weather, cause things here suck. But anyway, congrats, Dashley, thanks for giving us something to talk about for years to come. Or at least till next weekend.

My mood?

Hulk Bust A Move!!

Friday, April 09, 2004

Thank goodness its Friday. There's nothing like Friday. I'm reminded of the timeless classic Doing It To Death by one Mr. James Brown. This song makes me think of Friday like no other song does. I'd print out the lyrics, but like all good James Brown songs, the lyrics have nothing to do with the name or the song. He was just trying to take us higher. Yep. Anyway, I wrote (again?) a poem (another one?) and so here goes.

Quality time wasted on this couch,
deep fried brain under tubed glass.
Straighten up or you'll have a permanant slouch
life moves way too fast.
Chopped liver onions and kraut,
my frozen dinner is chilly and cold
but when it finally thaws out
I'll eat it just to feel old.
Coca cola peanuts and crown
wash away my feelings of denial.
I can't swim or try so I drown.
don't be sympathetic and don't smile.
I'm not a poet, I'm not a sage.
I've got no wisdom, I've got no muse
Didn't think I'd make it to this age.
But now what can I lose?
A little picture stays tucked away
a special promise I made to me.
I'll break it again someday,
but now we'll have to wait and see.
My mood?

That's my virtual model. . .

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

It ain't easy being green. . .ask Kermit. Right now I'm staring down the barrel of the loaded shotgun that is the closing tests of the semester. There are two attitudes I could take, both of which require way more self destruction than I personally care to engage in. First I can confidently sit back and assume that since I've done well all during the semester completely messing up on these tests mean nothing. Of course, there's the extreme, where you kill yourself trying to pass these tests so as to not throw away all the work you put in this semester. I'm somewhere in the middle, really leaning towards the latter option, since I'm studying right now. Or at least I've got the books opened and the mindset going, since honestly, it'd be hard to study and type in my blog at the same time. Not to worry, I've still got another hour or so of good study time, or at least I'll have 45 minutes once I finish this. So what happened this weekend? Everything that I did of course. And that's the extent of my wrap up, if I had time to embellish details (that sounds like I'd be making them up doesn't it) I would, but since, as I just mentioned, there's two tests waiting to thwart my progress in this semester, I probably should be a bit more about my business, so I won't flunk. Because we all know that flunking would be be bad. Flunking is really just funk with an l and an -ing. And while I do enjoy the funky music, I don't enjoy flunking, or being a flunky. Maybe that was a bad analogy, so I'll just say this, I really really really really really want to pass these tests. So I've got to put in the work for them, yes I know. So off I go.
My mood?

[Your witty comment or caption here]

Friday, April 02, 2004

Its creative writing Friday. Actually its not, I just feel like sharing. Okay here ya go!

She said I'm like no other,
a genunine soul brother,
she knows what makes me smile,
and all the while,
she stays in style,
completely drives me wild.
Makes me want to go the extra mile.
The extra century, she could be my only,
and just the thought of her makes me lonely.
I'm more than love sick,
I'm ill cause her love is sick.
She keeps my life so strict,
I'm so glad I'm the one she picked.
The happiness in my heart,
has been here from the very start.
Even if she got old and ugly,
or she told me she'd never loved me.
I'd still try to make her feel good,
Cause she just makes me feel good.
It was slightly cooler than normal. Not exactly cold, but not exactly warm. A night when the chills going down your spine could be either natural or caused by the unnatural. As the beams of light pierced through the thick darkness, the serpentine road seemed to lead to nowhere, constantly turning, continuously progressing, but without really gaining ground. The night enveloped the tiny car as the forest whizzed by. Jon reached for his soda as he tried to keep the car on track. The car didn't sound right to him. Somewhere between the roar of asphalt and rubber and the blaring music, he heard something that wasn't quite right. Quietly, he shook his head and dismissed the thought. Nothing was wrong, everything was okay, he kept repeating to himself silently, almost as if he wouldn't believe it if he said it loud enough. The fight against the ever growing darkness continued, corresponding with the fight between Jon and the suspicion eating away at his mind. What could possibly be wrong? What had he forgotten to do? Jon was unsure of what he could have forgotten, but he knew that something was missing. Something that carried such weight, had so much presence that it literally had him squirming and sweating in his seat trying to appease it. Or at least the memory of it. Jon laughed to himself, and decided it was probably nothing. He hadn't been this tense since the last time he'd forgotten. Of course, then he'd been trying to forget, trying to clear the memories of his worse act from his mind. He'd tried to hide that so long, tried to hide it from others and even from himself, but finally it resurfaced so violently, that even if he had tried to keep it covered over, it would have surely forced its way into the open. Suddenly, there was movement outside the car. The trees were beginning the first of their dances to the melody of the wind. The movement became regimented as the trees yielded and swayed to the gentle persuasion of their suitor. Jon's mind wandered back to the road, and to the trip, wondering how much longer he would have to drive. As he looked at the car's clock, he was astounded to realize that over two hours had passed since he'd gotten in the car. Two hours of the same winding, twisting road, engulfed by trees and darkness alike, making his life seem like one long blur. Where was he going? Jon glanced down once more to find his soda, and when he looked back up he saw more movement. This movement wasn't regimented or gentle. This was erratic and harsh, the movement of some animate, living thing. Jon swerved to avoid hitting it, and suddenly the calmness of a few seconds ago darted away like the deer that had stood in his path. It seemed like hours before the car finally came to rest. It had plowed through countless dancers, ending their swaying, and finally had come to rest within the crowd. The headlights cut through the growing darkness as Jon began to climb out of the wreckage. He looked at his car in disgust and begin to look around him. His mind drifted back to the fact that he'd been driving for two hours on a dark road, surrounded by trees and darkness. He took one more look at his car, and reached into it, searching for his flashlight. He finally dug it out of the debris, and turning in the direction that he came, he begin to walk away from the car. The night clung to him, following closely on his heels, waiting anxiously for another victim. As Jon walked away, the lights on his car begin to fade, and finally, they exposed their last. The dark enveloped the car, claiming it as yet another sacrifice to the growing list of victims. Jon looked back, sighed, and continued walking along the road.

My mood?

Cold dark forest. Man, I hate this place. . .