creative juices are a-flowin'.

As I hear melodic tunes billowing out of the speakers, I close my eyes and bask in the sound. When I open them, it's silent. Out the window, something amazing is happening beyond the reality I live in. Snowflakes are cascading quietly down from the sky, and into my backyard, creating a different realm.
...and yet, I'm not taking advantage of it.

Too cold.
Way too cold.
Not as fun when you're alone.

The worries that I stare at in the mirror day to day, right now, are just as ridiculous as myself pondering of going on the cereal diet. So I stare out the window and I let my imagination run wild. I let it run away from the financial burdens, the self-doubt, the melancholy, and before long my imagination is bending over telling them all to kiss its ass.

Even my imagination is snarky and sarcastic.



So I just got finished reading this book that I got with a gift certificate called "Water for Elephants". Basically, it's about railroad circuses in the 1920s and 1930s, focusing, of course on one main character and his love for another, amongst a bunch of side stories. Yeah, a Romeo and Juliet twist in there somewhere. What's great is that after every 3 chapters or so, it time warps back to present day to where the main character is an old man in a nursing home, and it explains in great detail the expected difficulties he faces being "ninety... or ninety three." There's technicalities of the behind-the-scenes stuff that us as "rubes" (that's what they call paying customers) would never know, there's murder, there's sarcasm... a good read. I enjoyed it thoroughly. It's a book I can percieve as being converted to a movie. I hope whomever picks it up for the cinematic idea that they don't fucking ruin it. Nothing frosts my cookies more as when a great book gets ruined.

Alright, Kansas just came up on random. How odd in the morning. Obviously it's to be expected eventually, but for some reason I was surprised. I got in a heated argument with a friend of mine, in regards to The Doors. I know, I just jumped from one band to another in a flash. Bear with me, I'm writing as the things come along in my head. He talked of how they had zero talent, wrote a bunch of drugged-up songs, and Jim Morrison was a hack. Way to state the obvious on the second half of that sentence, sir, but I do believe they had some talent whereas you do not. I just used the word "whereas". Wow.
I'm all for people being entitled to their own opinions, but I'm not all for people that are just looking to hear themselves speak. Hell, I'm sure the ones who read this (which I know isn't many) probably aren't fans of The Doors, but who am I to judge you? That's you, and you, as writers, I'm sure, (lots of commas... just for you, Kevin... haha) have constructive reasoning.
Anyhow! He kept running in circles with his argument, which irritates me because one thing I can't stand is someone who dives into the debate pool with me for a swim and doesn't know how to back the shit up. It's just frustration and anger. So in my response to that, I went down his avenue and said, "yeah? well ICP sucks, so there you go."

It eased the tension a bit. At least I think it did... he's been a bit bent out of shape with me for weeks now, and I can't say I don't blame him. However, I know where my heart lies or will lie, depending on if it's allowed to lie there (I just said lie a lot) and it's not ever going to be there, with said debator.
Sorry, didn't mean to go down that deserted alley, or so to speak. It scares a lot of readers away.

The boys from Brazil made a brave return to the brimstone house last night for Dave and Tommy's radio show (promotion! http://www.brimstoneradio.com/, 7-11pm est), and apparently a video surfaced of myself singing with The Beat-Ups at a show back in October... awkward! I hate myself in videos because I end up seeing my true form which gets me all self-concious and such... I like myself better in photos... if I had to choose.
However, they got scared away because Dave started playing with fire and knives. Way to feed me to the wolves, guys. I LIVE HERE! Don't you think it makes me nervous too?! Jeez.

Dave informed me that his girlfriend was moving out of her house next month, along with all 5 of her other roommates. It's like, $1400 a month for that house. And it's prime. That house is badass, back in my old neighborhood, huge... and all for $1400 a month. If only I could round up people in search of a new home, I'd be there. I miss that neighborhood all too much. I love the house I live in now, but no matter where I look, everything looks dirty. And it's as though I'm merely renting a room here. That bugs me.

Things happen for a reason, right?