Tuesday, November 30, 2004

You'll make us want to die/I'd cut your name in my heart/We'll destroy this world for you/I know you want me to feel your pain

I finally know what a popsicle feels like. They say difficulty builds character. Well today was definitely the most character building day I've had cross guarding, safety patrolling, whatever. I'd like to complain about it being cold, but after reading about Jerm's trip of doom, I can't really complain too bad about that. It was cold, rainy, and windy, and that officially made my day a tad bit worse, but at least I got to get into the car after about an hour of being in that. Imagine being outside in worse, and for several days. Aye.

I'm stoked. Very stoked. I get to see Muse. That's right, Muse. To those of you who don't know Muse, I say, you losers! For the rest of you cool people, I say, isn't this awesome. But for those who don't know Muse, I'll do a replay on my favorite Muse song. I call it a replay because I posted it before. I've been known to quote it on occasion as well. So here it is:
Plug In Baby - Muse
Why do I like this song so much? I have no idea, but everytime to the chorus rolls around, I'm shouting this song at the top of my lungs. Doesn't really matter where I am, work, walking to class, eating lunch, half sleep in my bedroom, if I hear this song, I will sing along. Anyway, I'm going to go finish my laundry. Wash em up, wring em out, then I throw em in the dryer

My mood?

Just hitching a ride. . . =)

Monday, November 29, 2004

They say that time heals all wounds/but all wounds are often caused by time

Time. There never seems to be enough of it to go around, and it always feels like no matter what you do, you're always pressed for it. I've seen great men, whom time befell, and in a matter of time, they became nothing. Men who've had everything they've wanted, wasted away by time. Often its said that we waste time, but in actuality, its time that wastes us. We can never stop or kill time, but it can stop and kill us. Maybe that's why as humans we're so forgetful. If we really truly remembered every instance of time, we'd forever be in the past, and never really take the time to plan for the future. Maybe that's the way time is supposed to go? Who knows?

As usual, sorry for the insane amount of downtime, but last week I was off and away from all things and I didn't take the. . . uh, time to type something out. But here I am back into the swing of things, back at work, back to writing and back to everyday life. That's time for you.

So fitting in with today's incessant theme, here's the mp3 of the day:
Time (To Get It Together) - Marvin Gaye

My mood?

Honestly? I don't know. . .cool picture though. . .

Friday, November 19, 2004

Honesty isn't my best quality/I can't promise I'm perfect/without defect/but I can promise I'm me/and if that's more than what I should be/maybe you should apologize

Well, yep, its me. I'm in a bit of a. . .writer's block would it be? I've not got a problem writing, by any means, but what I've been writing hasn't been of the lets share it with the masses variety of stuff. So maybe I should just dig out a few things I've written in the past, eh? If that sounds good to you, just keep reading. For the rest of you, well, there's always the mp3 for entertaining satisfaction.

So here's something from a while back:

I'm so self-important,
its like I was imported,
into this world just to be,
the person I am, you know me,
here to tell everyone they're wrong,
are you conceited? Well not for long.
I'm not going to let you ruin my reputation,
because being seen with you
isn't what most call cool,
does that equate your computation?
Not to talk to down,
but understand me, this isn't your town.
You're visiting, go ahead look around,
everyone comes here to see me,
what did you think they came to see?
I'm the greatest there ever was,
don't believe? He does,
and he's the one who counts.
Just like a gazelle after the lion pounce,
I'm the only reason for going out.
Being this awesome is kinda hard,
because I constantly have to stay on guard,
to make sure people like you don't bring me down.

Yeah I know. I'm not conceited, I'm everything I say I am. Hahahahahah. . .sorry, not sure what made me write that one. I think I was making fun of someone else who acted like that. Ah, well on to the next!

I live in a digital world.
Are you a digital girl?
I got my vision from Pearl,
and I don't like what I see.
Why are you over there looking at me?
Think that you might be hooking with me?
I won't take the bait,
because I can't relate to being your mate.
That just ain't my fate.
You think that you know me,
but what do you really know?
Why did you even show me,
if I seemed to slow?
Or did you learn to grow
I hate to seem pushy or ignorant,
but its not insignificant.
Let me step back and be original.
I may seem analog but I'm really digital

Definitely shorter than the last one. That's a plus. This is actually about someone that I didn't date. Can you tell from the poem? Actually, I'm breaking Javann's rule number one, and that's Never admit that a poem you wrote is about actual people or actual feelings. No good generally comes from that, but I've admitted that this was about someone already, so I might as well tell the world. Right? Nah. Anyway, next!

I don't like you, you don't like me,
so lets dispense with the pleasantries,
clear the air of the fake smiles,
the laughs, the jokes, the comments on style.
Its obvious we can never be friends,
because we both know it all depends,
on who's willing to go the extra mile,
and the only place I'm going for you is away,
to the other side of the room,
go brighten somebody else's day.
I don't have time to condition my face,
to make my mind embrace,
your weak attempt to conversate.
Aww, you don't like me, should i be hurt?
Should I feel like this little thing won't work?
Too late, I hate you more than you hate me
And no matter how much you may berate me
behind closed doors to your peers,
friends and associates, its clear,
that you've got nothing better to do
then to reciprocate the feelings of I-hate-you.
If I saw you fall down in the desert alone,
I'd just keep walking till I got to your home,
break your air condition, cut off your water,
bash the refrigerator, and take all your ice cubes,
take all your drinks, and your frozen foods,
and then I'd help you get home,
and when you thought I'd left you alone,
I'd be watching hoping to see your frustration,
at not being able to solve your dehydration,
then I'd bring over a glass and drink,
in front of your face, just to make you think.
Think about your hate, let it fill your heart,
think about how much you want to tear me apart,
how much you wish you could make me cry,
think about how glad you'll be when you see me die.
Then stop, and realize what you've become,
Because with your hate, you and I become one.

I've posted this one before, its just so deliciously mean, I have to repost it again. This really wasn't about anyone, just me trying to do something other than my normal soft, "I'm-so-in-love" poetry. Blech. . .I guess. Anyway, here's another in this quickly becoming long post.

Dragons, fire, loose ends and cobblers,
cobble stone, fixed shoes, limp legs and hobblers,
Peaches and apples, bananas and half eaten pears,
Them they we and drains clogged with hairs,
Conspiracies, hatred, coups, and Bonnevilles,
strong weak overly unique and sunny villes.
Hunger oppression dictionaries and explanations,
Implicit egos intricacies underdeveloped nations,
third first last in between acts and scenes,
You me together happy in aspects of dreams,
prepositions turtle necks time cards and checks
phrases heads necks trucks cars and mental wrecks,
cream coffee sugar additives preservatives,
carbonation quotes contents and absurdities,
rhymes mixes drinks phones braces rudeness
unclean unwashed bad taste and pollutedness,
fame change money power wealth and vanity
privacy stability happiness and all my sanity
warm enjoyment forever together with friends
beginning conclusion incredible delusion the end.

And that'll be the last one. Thoughts on this one? Uh. . .its uh. . .from Javann's "abstract" period.

Mp3? Sure!
End It On This - No Doubt
Not the best from the Tragic Kingdom album, but still an awesome song. Good intro, nice incorporation of the piano, and it actually sounds like Gwen's trying to sing here and not just howl melodically. That makes for some grade A music.
My mood?

Does that look like the mask or what?

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

We danced until the night disappeared/the morning suddenly reappeared

Welcome to Javann's weird sleeping habits. Its 1:30 A.M. and I just woke up. I went to sleep yesterday evening at 5:00 P.M. Not on purpose. Well, yes maybe on purpose. Apparently Wednesday is the day that I sleep uncontrollably. I really have no idea what causes me to sleep in such a pattern. . .anyway. . .

So I'm sure you're thinking to yourself, isn't this deep thoughts? No doubt you're looking for some thought which will motivate you to enjoy the rest of your day? Too bad.

No I kid I kid. Wait, did I just do another paragraph? Hmmm. . .I remember saying that I'd not start doing that. Oh well. In all honesty, I do have a thought, one that hit the me other night. You see, my sister gave me this quote book, which incidentally is smaller than my hand (which isn't saying much, since my hand is actually about nine inches from my middle finger to my wrist). But anyway, the book is full of excerpts from love letters written by famous poets and authors. What strikes me as ironic is how many of them say pretty much the same. They all fall in the vein of "I'm in love with you. My love is stronger than all other loves and feelings I've ever known. This will hold true for an indefinitely long period of time." This made me wonder, do all people have the same general feeling when it comes to emotions? When you get angry, or fall in love, do you feel the exact same as the next guy? Are emotions generic? Because if they are, it really cheapens the entire ordeal. There's more to the thought, but I've decided to stop talking here, just in case, someone reads this and is frightened by the fact that what I'm thinking actually is a thought. Or something. Anyway, here's the mp3:

Just Like Money - Kent

My mood?

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

First and foremost sorry for the downtime. Thanks for the comments, keep hitting the site, and I'll keep doing my thing I guess. But for the time being:

She comes back for me in small doses,
I suppose its,
just a reminder of why this ended,
but it leaves my life so upended,
I wonder if that's what she intended?
I never knew what I had till it was gone,
But now that I know I'm glad this is done,
Because to see what I've become,
is to see a shell of what I used to be,
a shell of the man I formerly knew as me.
Not sure if this new me is strong,
but I'm sure he'll not be in control for long.
My former self was powerful in its ways,
and so far it won't allow anything to end its days.
It resurfaces at night in my dreams,
and I relish the power and destruction in brings.
I know it seems dark and disturbing,
but its truly this new self that's a bit unnerving.
I'm used to who I was, and not what I am,
so now I want to go back and be that man,
that I was before she struck,
but everytime she comes back, I get stuck
between transitions,
and not even the strongest nuclear fission,
could rupture me away regressing,
or maybe its progression,
hard to say.
Either way.
I know what awaits me if I don't change,
and I accept that as a child does its name.
I guess the reality of it should make me ashamed,
but how can you shame yourself,
if you're you and not someone else?

mp3? I don't have this song, but I suggest you hear it, Anthony Hamilton - I Used To Love You. So fire up what you have and do what you must to hear this song.

Monday, November 08, 2004

We know something you don't know. . .that makes us better

Well, this is another week, I suppose, with lots of things to talk about. Funny thing is I don't really care to speak about any of those things. So, here's my attempt at a short story instead.

"The usual?" she asked.
"Um. . .sure, I'll have that I guess."
She smiled and walked away, and he sighed as he looked out the window. So many people, all of them with such purpose. As the cars passed by, he tried to make believe that he was them. He always wished he could be someone else, anyone else, just so he could find out what the secret was. What could possibly drive so many people to action? Everyday, the same rut, and all for what? The emptiness that he'd felt inside so many times? He sighed again and continued watching. He noticed a sporty little red car, with a thirtysomething executive, cool shades in place, music modestly playing. Was he going home to his wife, or maybe meeting his secretary for drinks at a dive away from his neighborhood. Or maybe not. Maybe he was the type who didn't cheat simply because it was inconvenient. Too much too lose. The waitress placed his glass of lemonade on the table and two straws. He smiled at her, mumbled thank you, and begin fumbling around in his pockets looking for his medicine. Mind numbing stuff really. He wasn't sure why he took it, just that his doctor said it would help calm him. The pills slid down his throat, and he looked back out the window. Now there was a little bright pink coupe outside. The music from this car was definitely not discreet or modest, but loudly played, as if for the enjoyment for everyone else. The woman, well really the girl, inside was dancing, swaying, jerking rhythmically to what she considered apparently moving music. She was probably headed out to the mall, to cruise around with Daddy's credit card, no doubt doing her part to make sure that this economy of ours doesn't falter due to consumer disinterest. A platter of eggs was slid in front of him, with another plate of bacon and biscuits, then finally a bowl of grits. He begin unwrapping his fork, and then looked up once more at the waitress and smiled. She smiled back, and as she walked away, he wondered what motivated her? Did she have three kids and deadbeat alcholic husband who beat her? Well, maybe not three, one would a stretch of the imagination. She was so slim. And he'd never seen her bruised. He cut a deliberately precise square of butter and placed it on top of the grits. Maybe she was just working this job on the side, as she tried to become an actress, or pay off loans. Either way, it was really none of his concern. Maybe he should try minding his own business for a change. As he began eating his food, he could feel a conscious desire to ask her about herself, but it was almost as if. . .he looked at the bottle of medicine on the table. Maybe that was why suddenly he didn't care. He looked down at his plate of eggs and noticed that it was almost pulsating, throbbing, and he pushed it away. She came back by to fill his lemonade glass, and looking at him, realized something was wrong right away. She slid into the booth and looked at him.

"Are you okay, you don't look so well. Should I call a doctor?"
He looked at her as if she were foreign. She wanted to know if he was okay. Of course, he was okay. Wasn't he? He looked back at the bottle of medicine, and reading the label, was unsurprised to find that it was the correct prescription. "I'm fine, I just realized that, you know, I come in here every morning just about, and I sit here, and I eat the same thing, and I leave the same amount in tips, and everything is so familiar, but. . .I don't even know your name."

"My name?"
"Yes, your name. . .I never. . .I never was concerned. . .or maybe I was, or maybe I wasn't and I didn't realize I was, I don't know. I know this sounds like I have a problem, like I'm mental or something, or maybe like I'm drunk or over medicated. . ."
"No, no. . .no one who comes in here ever really just asks my name. I mean, guys do, a lot, but not like this. Most of them want my number before they want my name, but you. . . you really want my name?"
"Um. . . yes. . .yes I do."
She blushed a bit self-consciously, and rose suddenly.
"I really need to get back to work, you know. These tables aren't going to bus themselves."
"Wait, I'm not coming on to you, or anything I just. . .I just want to know your name."
"Well. . ." she paused. He looked nice enough, actually rather attractive, but he was always in here. What if he were a stalker who was waiting to pounce on her when her back was turned? She looked out the window at the plane passing overhead, and then back down at him. He was staring at the plane too, with a far away look in his eye, as if he were dreaming some pleasant dream. She wondered if she were in it somehow.
". . .my name is Alice, actually."
"Um. . .yeah. . .look I gotta go."
"Okay, nice to meet you Alice."
Her name was Alice. He got up to leave, and reached in his pocket for three dollars. Well, maybe four this time, he thought, as he left a five on the table. She'll. . .Alice. . .will definitely put this too good use.

Why Bother - Juice Mouse Cypher (formerly Juice Mouse Zero)

My mood?

Kinda tired really. . .

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

I can't sleep right now so I figured I'd post something. I know it's been a while and I apologize accordingly, but it was out of my hands. Like two weeks ago I came down with the flu, then it relapsed into a cold and then the cold very nearly relapsed back into the freakin flu so I was pretty good and out of it for over a week. Since then I've been doing things like recovering, going to a nice concert last weekend and staying out late, chillin with some homies, playing some music here and there, catching up on school and trying not to get sick anymore. I also pre-ordered Halo 2 today. So really, things are back to normal and to celebrate thusly I thought I'd have trouble sleeping and post on here.

So like, would you agree that music is universally accepted as something aesthetically pleasing? It sort of dawned on me the other day that music - compared to other art forms - is much more accepted everywhere, by everyone. And I suppose this was obvious, but I had never thought of it this way before: I can think of quite a few people who don't like to read or write any kind of literature and don't like to paint any kind of pictures or even take the time to look at any kind, and I can think of plenty of people who don't enjoy taking any type or style of photograph and don't really care about looking at photographs yet I can think of no one at all who doesn't like some type of music. That's one thing I've come to appreciate about music, especially when it comes to making it. I mean, on many occasions (I find it funny how many times this has happened, actually) I've made a song, right. And I just think this song is amazing and the best thing I've ever done. And then here I have this song I consider mediocre, sort of a filler track. And man, everyone just loves the mediocre and say my amazing one is sorta so-so. And then you'll have another demographic who prefer another song, and then one load moron who likes a song that just totally sucks. You can apply this to any kind of music of course, but I just noticed it when it was happening to my own music. That's a more sensitive area I guess.

So yeah I'm excited about Halo 2 and I know I'm not the only one, so as jejune as it may sound to be this excited about a video game, I'm only one in a freakin ubiquitous and homogeneous crew that will soon be beating each other in the faces with energy swords. And rockets. This time next week. This time next week. This time next week. This time next week.
I can't afford to be wrong/my life nas become a bad song/waiting to explode in my face/and if I could, I'd erase/this bad flavor, this unholy taste/from my palate, no from my mind/and then maybe somehow I'd find/the absolution I've been seeking/the way to absolve all that which has left me weakened/from my previous strengths

So much anger, so much rage, so much. . .emotion. And I've yet to find a way to truly release all that I feel. Maybe its just that true release always means the loss of all control, and control is the last vestige of human goodness that remains. Or maybe its just that I'm not sure what it is I feel. Confused, lost, tired, frustrated, really just pick an adjective. I'm there. Either way I still feel the same word echoing through my mind: failure. Am I a failure? Or maybe just a disappointment to all who know me and care? I don't believe in predestination, but I do believe in destiny. What does that mean? No one's written a book for you, but you can surely write it with your actions. If you sow foolishly, you will reap foolishly. I don't know, maybe this is all just pointless rambling, I've never been sure of much before, and why should I feel like suddenly I need to be assured in all things. Maybe living life without that comfortable little safety net will be the savior of me. Or the death of me. That remains to be seen. Anyway, for those who read this and then become worried about my mental stability, if you didn't know by now, you should be told that I'm not mentally stable. No I'm just kidding, I'm pretty stable mentally, it's just extremely hard to keep your balance when there's nothing there to support yourself with. Things in this world seem determined to keep me topsy turvy, upside down, and off balance. This is just another session of Javann trying to right himself.

Enjoy the mp3 of the day:
What Your Soul Sings - Massive Attack

My mood?

I just need some time to think. . .

Monday, November 01, 2004

I've never been too proud/of everything I've had before

What happens when the thoughts,
stop coming for the last time?
When you can no longer rhyme?
When you're perfect world just stops?

What happens when nobody listens anymore?
When every word you have to say,
is basically so eventually it'll pay,
to be different from those cold on the floor?

Where do you go when your time is over?
When no one wants see you succeed?
When everyone just wants to see you bleed?
When intoxication is always better than being sober?

What happens when you see the world,
and realize that its worse that cold,
its a place where only the dead get old,
and even the best plans are unfurled?

When its time to leave you can't be saved.
Reach out for anything that doesn't hurt,
anyone who isn't concerned enough to be curt,
Consistent words that won't remain engraved.

Awesome song. To me at least.
Better Living Through Chemistry - Queens of the Stone Age

My mood?

Typical Monday.