I remember

I'm not crazy when I think it. When I wish it.
I'm encompassed.
Merry Christmas.
I don't want to wait another routine.
I don't want to grow anymore without...
Maybe I am crazy.
But I'd do anything. And I read back and its everything.
She.
Fireworks.
Me.
The sparks left over.
Happy New Year.

A mountain, a Lobster....and a kind hearted textbook.

We went to sleep at 7
All loaded I unloaded frustrations
Its not easy to apologize but maybe it wasn't all wrong

I bought these tickets over a month ago never thinking I'd be able
In a drunken stupor we say 'fuck it lets go'
But we stay up till 7
The enthusiasm much like the anger is a drunken passion

you say 'you boys have a show to get to'

And its on. Were blind and feeling with foggy minds to get to a better place.
We get a car somehow. We have no map. We wait an hour at the border. Its looking bleak.
Time is passing.

We arrive...

We witness and partake in a dream we've both had for 4 years.

We hold up our hero's with their sweat raining out of the call of the many
Murder upside down with one hand on the wheel

He plays the Jurassic Park theme

We meet them. They give us a copy of phantom. We say 'oh no we already own it please' they say 'no dude take it and thank you for making the trip'

Hours and hours and hours of driving. One hour of dreams. Then we spend the hours and hours back giddily retelling the same great story. We were our own authors.

It was so new. So familiar. So inspiring. So easily living the lives we've been sitting on.

Friends were friends. Dreams came true.

COME ON NOW

Stop sign question: what do you want?
Defenseless until I see a better vantage point.
Yuck. I do have to apologize for all the whining.
I'm excited to see my family.
Boy I hope they don't ask me any questions.

Strat

Band.

Headache Fuel

My underwear is in my blazer pocket. Left side.
I have red wine on my white dress shirt. I don't know where my undershirt went.
The black pants have left over duct tape on the crotch from a previous event.
My black shoes are coated in other peoples food.
There is a very good chance I have vomit on my face. Its my vomit.

Kicked out by a roommate I don't know. He made me tea and I ran and puked.

Now on the street, in the wild again its time to make a big decision.
What song am I going to listen to on my mp3 player?

I'm on six hours sleep from the past forty eight. Tops.
I looked like a fool. I acted like a fool. I felt like a fool. Chances are..

I go with 'Drama in the emergency room' by 'I hate myself'
One of my all time favorite songs. But I don't like listening to the whole thing. Its just that the first half is so fucking incredible:

'i can survive, but i don't know if i want to.
turn off the machines. i've sprung a thousand leaks.
i can feel everything. listen.'

Soon that song is over but its not the right choice. I know the right choice. I knew it before the night was over. Seriously.
See I've done this before.

People are looking at me. Some people are clearly unimpressed. I wonder if any of them care.
My uncle served coffee at 4:30am the previous evening. We watched a shitty patriotic submarine movie. We listened to music I don't really like. He showed me old pictures he has. That's when it hit me. It was about 2 or 3 am when this happened. Monday night...

I saw all the pictures of me. And I could see how sad I was. Much younger then I thought.
I lived with a single mom for a bit and one of her girls....just had that thing. A sad soul.
Takes one to know one. But I did not realize its persistence.

Some people think I look good right now. I want to spit my sickness at them.

The song.

This is important. Pay attention please.


'Thaw' By 'Converge' and make sure its the Jane Doe Version.

This is the fucking song.

I've heard the guitar player for the band describe that whole album as 'inaccessible.'
Very true. Especially of 'Thaw.'
The first three quarters of that song are so fucking annoying. It just builds and breaks a million times. It repeats itself like a frustrating conversation. But then....
The thing about that entire album is that it sounds like you've stumbled onto something important. The production of all the instruments and vocals are so gritty and balanced and married that it literally becomes something frightening. It is rightfully regarded as a masterpiece album and I agree.

I've seen Jane's iconic image tattooed on peoples arms on the bus, as a patch on a purse, and my personal favorite: stenciled on the wall of a convenience store in Red Deer Alberta. To me it signified a pulse. That someone existed in that shit hole.

The song erupts and breaks everything in your life. It fits the feeling of watching yourself morph out of your own control. '
Today I thaw.' Does that mean that something frozen emerges? That the real you is coming to life? That would be so horrible. I don't want that to be me. But Being stuck.... I see that coming from not facing things properly. I have Jane's face in my head.

I travel via public transit that I can get away with not paying for. I'm on the seabus. Crossing the ocean to my home. It feels a little safer with that moat in the way of my actions. There's cargo ships in the water in front of us being pushed by tugboats. An old woman is asking the general public something which Converge muddles out. Her answer comes from a construction worker seated in front of me. I'm instantly understanding. He has such kind eyes, such a fantastic goatee. His facial muscles don't give any hint of over exertion. In his red plad jacket he is what he is and he seems strong and dependable. A man.

I smell. Look. And feel. Like an asshole.
So chances are...

My battery dies just as the seabus docks. Just in time to hear the old woman wish everyone a merry christmas. They all wish it back.
I don't say anything. I feel like I'm not included.

As I'm starting the final stretch of my way home someone is playing 'Joy to the world' on a trumpet. A few bum notes put in just for me. My national anthem right now. I'd never have heard it if the batteries were still alive.

My back hurts as I'm about ten blocks up. But I know its from my floor. The only bed to go home to. I've had that before too. My backs gotten tougher though.

The roommate was young. Judging.
When you have pictures like mine to look back on you see that differently. He's just a kid.
The lines are so blurry now. Villain's used to exist. People were trust worthy.
Now it's all moments. It's all nights. Promises get broken.
Anything. A pin drop. And I go back to missing her.
How could you think or write or sing or speak about anything else?
You just do.
Things change.
Love used to be safe.
Things change.
I'm older after that walk. And the album is almost over as I write.

The ending.
Its everything. Its what makes you misty.
Jane Doe.
I hate fade outs. I can't stand them actually. I had a friend who once talked about them and said that he felt they were cheap and it was like the band wasn't talented enough to write a good ending.
Jane Doe fades out.
And its unfucking touchable.
Its a statement. That this is going to keep going forever. And its going to get more intense and more consuming.

But batteries die. And trumpets hit the bum notes.

Chug

Well first off lets get this part out of the way: I drank a bottle of wine.
Tonight at work a front put aside its suit of armor and surprised me.
Fed me beyond expectations more food then I've had all week.
I shared this fact.
It seemed exaggerated. Turns out it was not.
Walking home with a bottle of wine to myself. Drinking under a bridge I'm familiar with.
Thinking of the river in my view. A metaphor provided.
Are the ripples aware of the other ripples?
When you bus tables you feel feeble. You feel wrong.
Like you've failed and are skimming the surface of your life.
This is fact.
Its not pleasant.
What is however quite pleasant is this. This writing.
I'd rather not explain or apologize and just give a smile through this sentence.
There is nothing wrong with my pursuit and the pace I've acquired.
Then again....I've had that bottle.
If I could sum up this week, I'd say that I've seen a lot of tradition and pattern.
I've tried to inch past my own, and perhaps I've judged others.
The latter is frowned upon but perhaps all it requires is an adjustment.
Regardless I don't feel regressive. I don't fear a relapse.
I just don't want to be a dickhead...

__

Don't have an answer for ya
Read a challenge and give it pace
Allow its value breathing room
Overwhelming instants
Breath's
Daydreams acted out
Patterns in persons highlighting their loop
Stretch
Umbilical cords with alternating currents
Take a deep breath and venture further more
Make a stand to move on
Safety in consultation
Strength in independence
Advice advice advice advice advice advice advice advice advice advise away advice advice
I hear less and less anything outside loops
Just tucked away being buried beneath escalating years
Behind spelling
I don't have your answer, I have my observation
My blurry point of view
Hugging the phonebook filled with highlights and bookmarks securing all my sacred socials
Wasting manners as a doormat
Millions of excuses not to call
Not to close my eyes
Dust your feet someplace else
If you have any questions or concerns please hug your laptop
I almost forgot the ecstasy, the moment to moment patience
Destinations and expectations do nothing but derail privileges
A song to its finish
Age

Hello this is some of my room.

Under My Window

Marco........

Uh Oh Chuck.
You're doing it again. Rascal.
In the past two weeks I've cut my own hair and painted a skyscraper dripping atop Noah's ark.
I can't agree one hundred percent. That makes it irresistible.
The tones of a female voice emanating from down the hall.
Step.
Its about surroundings. Your contribution and your alignment.
Pour into it. Wet paint. Skin.
Yes contradict! Just contribute.
See I'm worried about being hypocritical. What nonsense.
I want to show Juliette Lewis my hair cut, and the burning ark with bleeding skyscraper.
I want that tone in my room to share with.
The company you keep.
Somewhere in this city there's a blip I'll read.
Off the sonar of my spirit.
Woops Chuck. I think that was cheesy.....

Belief

Camille Saint-Saens Aquarium. Slow motion city.
The season of dreaming and ghosts. Haunted wonder.
My goodness there is a lot of should.
There is something else though.
A mystery which may have a tragic end, or perhaps....
Lots of blankets and lots of pillows.
The current location becomes the destination.
Softer now.
I can see it and I can hear its gentle whisper.
My point in time is my challenge to see past, to see Egypt.
To hear silence and ancients.
To see the agony of a friends denial.
Customer service ringing with rage and certainty. Are the off hours so turned off?
Filling bars and watching football.
Service. Like soldiers at war. Guarding societies weak.
Society, a living implosion.
So this is my home. A dead thing decaying and growing.
I do believe in spooks.
My spirit chit chatting with your touch.
The rest is reactions vacations can't erase.
But I might move to that place.

Thats not a question.

Waiting on everyone else. I'm on 4 hours rest. Nothing is ready. Everything has to be done. Everything is work. What the hell.

A Blood Bath

Bouncers eating chips and beef jerky right on the floor. Turns out there's a fight. Turns out blood hits the dance floor. I got dirty looks and testing jabs and stuck to my guns. Turns out I was right. Turns out I admitted mistakes.
Fights don't make me smile. I get told to cheer up.
I grin at friends meeting me after work at 2am. I get glad at trusting myself and trying to be strong and kind.
Wheres Patrick Swayz when you need him?

Phantom On The Horizon

The first thing I posted when I made this thingy was about The Fall Of Troy. More specifically it was about their Ghostship Demo's which they wrote when they were 17. Today they released the finished album. They pressed 3000 copies which are currently sold out. It is however available for digital download at their website store.

http://thefalloftroy.merchnow.com/

The hype laying the foundation of this album for people such as myself is quite extraordinary. I make no attempt to pick highs or lows. But the fact is that it's 6 dollars, and it's the equivalent of ordering pizza to your door. Only you can eat it more then once.

Amazing things are everything and should be shared.

This is ridiculous

Hey good lookin......

No time for cupcakes

Today I was wearing my special hat. The one
that people laugh at. And these two guys on a
bus at a red light did laugh. So I smiled back.
And then they gestured their chins. So did I.
On my bus ride I got a knot in my stomach.
I thought about standing out. The difference
between being remembered and forgotten.
I don't want to be remembered by those two.
Surviving in their interpretation.
But then all we are is other peoples intake.
I have to shudder at my perception of myself.
But thats the only one with all the information.
All the clues to form the puzzle and paint the picture.
How many people get to stand back and view it?
Their portrait.
You place a piece here,
and there,
paint a few new.
Scare the living shit out of a lot of people probably.
Surprise yourself. And see all the vibrant colours
All the contours and contrasts. The value of each.
This is hypothetical. But there is supportive evidence.
A little odd that this is all the complete reverse of exhausting.
The evidence does exist.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wWPpKgi-ELU

I lied about my SIN

Now the words are scarce. Now the words mean something.
We have 6 days to vacate the premises. Someone has six hundred of our dollars.
Its down to it. Right on the brink.
Not one step back.
This is not a dress rehearsal. This is it.
Better or worse.
Pooling resources just to stay alive.
This is what we know.
Not one step back.
Don't let me miss my life.
Biking full speed at 1 am with the tunes maxed.
Dill pickle chips and a flick.
Photo's of sand.
Were going for a trip dude.
And were not taking one step back.

Cest Lamour

I don't find anyone 'attractive'. Not at the moment. I would have to redefine my concept of the word. I fall in love with peoples work and passion. But they themselves, I donno...
To have someone, to obtain some kind of ownership. I can't do it. Silly. Oh your seeing someone else? Heartbreaking, but, yeah thats just better.
Tension and the enormous game of getting what you want. Am I crazy that this seems selfish?
Personal gain. Disgusting. I joined a parade but I think I'm going to sit down.
A pulse sure, just powered by a heart.
I guess I need to get over myself concerned with yourself.......
or something.
Ever see the movie with the moronic male stereotype bragging of banging a blonde bombshell as if he won the war? True story.
Ever hear the song where she made his every sleeping waking moment shine? True story.
I lost the war. And when you do you see the bodies. You get a little uncomfortable.
According to.
Chuck I'm inspired.
I remember talking about the book I was reading. I remember talking about God. Wow.
I talked about God.
Next I do, it'll just be repeat won't it? I'll be reciting to catch up to where I left off. The choice before the mistake.
I'll disagree in a few hours perhaps. But not now. Not this showing.
You're right Chuck. I'm playing out another take.
Why not a different feature? A different medium?
Why not dreams? Why not challenges? This book sucks.
Waving off this float to the crowd waving back.
Get me out of here.
Take me to Paris.
I want Natalie Portman to come to my hotel room and challenge me. And be a person with me.
Not a role. Not a movement played out a hundred times before on a hundred people.
Spew out what you think about God. Not what you think sounds cool.
What do you think of that skyline and these bricks placed by people long since gone?
Did they recite? Or did they muster up the guts to cry?
I remember fractions of that. Getting on a plane just to see the look on your face.
And seeing that my fantasy was too much to ask. But the effort was the most alive I've ever felt.
What the hell am I doing in this city?
Who are these terrible terrible people?
Why am I playing with them?
When am I deciding I've paid my dues?
Where do you fall in love in Paris?
I bet they mustered up the guts to hold on.
Just please read Chuck for what he really is.
Disarming. Challenging. Uncomfortable.
Because theres something wrong. I can't believe I'm not stupid. All this time I was stupid.
No you're not attractive. You're a tape recorder.
Thank you so much Charles.
This city is so ridiculous. I'm ridiculous. I could not be more proud of myself at times like this. When I buy tickets. When I catch planes.
I'll disagree in just a few hours.
It was the same then. And it wasn't the fantasy.
But in the air I felt my soul emerge.
I love you.

Fool me twice

How embarrassing. Everything becomes fake. Especially this sort of thing. All for no person. I.

Waste.

Bar Room Brawls

I complied this evening to every thing I was able while resuming normal tendency my mind fluttered and faded and I felt like I was fine but I feel like a change occurred in there somewhere and if the lid was lifted a horrible mist might emerge or it might not and thats of course assuming you keep a seal on these sort of things right of course sure yes yes yes positive yep sure sure right away intercourse intercourse run.

Production

I was going to clean today.
Instead I made you a mix.
It begins with a slow down sped up last crusade quote.
Skip to dirty love songs and rock and roll.
Slivers of drum machines will tickle your neck..
This sort of thing demands analogue.
Get my ass to a thrift store and barter for artifacts.
No occasion except I want to sleep with you.
Oops.

On The Bus

I wish I was a liar.
Having to revert to that again, to that status.
Hard worker.
"I never lie. But I am a savage."
Fight.

Tight

Success. Oh God why do I feel so off?
Where am I going to get the money?
Who gives a flying fuck about money(.)
I'm playing magic cards in a Tim Hortons.
I'm winning her back.
I have a deep voice and a mustache.
How did I end up here?
On a fence thats where.
I tore my coat when I flipped sides. Now I'm sitting here winded starring at the cloth on the barbed wire. The evidence. The explanations pouring. The authorities. My author.
He's a monster isn't he?
Oh I almost forgot! Congratulations you're intelligent.
Rain.
Throat sealing back actual.
Do I want to be fleeting or not?
Pinch Harmonic. Keep your eyes shut and your teeth gritted.
Bare me.
And fuck off.

You're to blame.

Caught up in a generation.
In the middle as an outsider
I could fall asleep, I could walk out

You almost trip over the real precious things
The rarities.
Its a ticking situation until you leave
And I can't get enough

Pitched back to the good ol days and all the patience
The fondness of my company?

"My idea of heaven......is to lay there and listen to Motown"

What enormous distance this is all gaining
Were all leaving
Running and waving at each others flights

Extension

Tequilla

Trandsending technique and label
Awakening something base and something lost
Absolute Horror
But we feel, and we are alive
And maybe its different for all......but you helped save me

Love Tom

Turn Into

Lightbulbs keep exploding, and I'm walking on the wreckage.

loose tooth

My heart almost bursts.
Filled to the brim
I'm so close to buying pudding...

Don't sleep outside

Cowels

Annoyed,Enraged'Inturrupted,Obstinate'Unless! Unless!



I wish I wish I wish

No ones upstairs today

Buddy I ain't half bad.
I ache and let it fly
Scorch the windows shut
Blinds down
The thumb mutes the picked string creating a scream
Stimuli
Suddenly there's things to write about
Except I don't want to write about them
But I got notes for days

Its getting cleared up
Off on your own I suppose.

Bend the string upon the pinch to elevate the dive
In hiding as a goof
My arpeggios say different
Speaking the truth at a reasonable volume
Holy cow I'd love to let it fly
Like an interior velociraptor
Living vicariously through day dreams of being anti-bashful

The hinges shake. Were alive. Were pushing our imaginations and dexterity to their brim.
I (do) (could) play for hours.
And guilt sets in to steal you away
Silly me
How could you be more productive?

Melodies forgotten. Honesty slipped through my memory.
Control and unabashed murder
Pick up to gain
Strapped in tight
Surprise yourself every day

Work up the nerve to surprise someone else...

Time Travel

.I am Little Foot.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2NSQqy5tvg

turn off your monitor.

Selfless

No magic tricks. Just making words into a man.

Lean closer.

Strawberry

You (fill in the gaps that disconnect) you.

Somehow you relate to a monster and end up for angels.

You invest and watch the spiral and feel different.

Nothing is perfect. It would be bad if it was.

Called out. Challenged.

Now shut up already.

http://www.watchtvsitcoms.com/californication.php

Delete

"Hey, you did good today"
"Dream big, dreamer"

Then we both sneak out and realize were both awake. Both writing. The sun will be up soon. Lets open that wine. I try to write to her and you stop me, like it or not. But what can I say anyway? Thats in a different dimension. A parallel universe where I'm competent. Whats the point of a letter goodbye? Your right, just pour me another glass.
Time can go to hell. For eternity.
She didn't know then, she won't know now. I get it.
So I'm stuck with a mirror image in my head, only with a love at his side.
I guess that means I'm the one on self destruct.
Thats not a joy at all.
This is not a joy.

But I still see sparkles on the water.
And live in memories.

Rascals

That caught us off guard.
To run with it like that.
I couldn't catch my breath...
What books you read. Trying not to let this happen.
I can't draw you. Could you draw me?
We owned this town, we took what we wanted...
No time to think.
Plenty of time to laugh.
No frowns
Snapshots
Tattoo
And a kiss goodbye.

Frodo

Bike down with my backpack. To the river where I ditch my wheels under a bridge. Sit on the bank and read of adventures, and remember that I'm on my own. That every mistake is a line in a book, and suddenly I'm eager. Watching birds fishing. Under the arm of an old oak tree. The book is great and theres no rush. Just get out that door.

Tonight we get up to no good. But tomorrow the river will be waiting.

Drag

Before planning. Pre-thought. Ahead of schedule.

Duh.

Onatopaniwiw

Fuck.

At least thinking

Friends in stress

Way past the end of the world

To nothing but the soul

I think and get nervous

Ancients.

Imagine that.

Who gets to go?

Overlapping dialogue. Old computers. I'm charmed every time. I laugh and I bite my nails. You always start with letting me know its a sad story. I fall for them every time. I laugh and wish for difference. You zoom in on the eye of something long since gone but it left its fear and passes it this way. There is the beauty of that line racked with an instrument.
"Lets get the hell out of here."
Your soaking wet with detail and foreshadowing, and they're fighting every single time to keep it cool. To handle it. I'm convinced they're trying to stay alive. In a fish tank of a television set.
They're taken away. Without the details. And sad story by ulcer I'm abandoned. We're in this together every time. You're braver then I am and I'm dragged along kicking and screaming.
We're abandoned together.

They made this? This could happen? This is always happening.

Astounding.

Crystal.

Lying back in the dark to the tales of the Shadow. Hearing your good news. Listening to your trouble. Blessed with the gift of shutting up from time to time. In my head I shake my head. Your fabrications have made you a fabrication. But I remember you, and him and I still talk on the inside. You have to talk, its good for you. You have to talk.

Embellishment. Elaboration. Depth. Grit. Details. Experience.

But God I can't stand heartbeats.

Endorphines

Elation. Pushing further then the time before. The calm throughout like a circus to the calm at the finish. Like a drug addict walking the streets. Shoes for flat feet. Being denied movement for days and sinking. It all falls apart without my hour away. I run either way, but only one is healthy. Maybe tomorrow...

Centrifugal Force

"Do you have a suit?"
"Yes."
"Then wear it and drink with me."

Friends on the town with the world in our palm. Dressed like we deserve it and acting like were capable. Stories of embarassment turned into moments of greatness. Girls who thought they knew you saying they don't know you. Let me buy you a drink. Blushing strangers. We are living life and glad we met. Turning panic into the smoothest thing you've ever done. All cause you've got the rest of us ol boys to kick around. Waking up to the city and a singing Italian out the window...

No pictures please, this is best a warm memory.

Lets make more money to do that again.

'Ghostship Demos' (ep)

You're 17. You're in high school. You've kissed a girl. With tounge. You've gone further then that sure, but that was the only part you did right. Then you write a musical thesis depicting a spanish gallion being haunted on the waves of a dark sea. To eventually be told in one album length song you record and release parts 1,4, and 5 on an ep which you sell at your shows. This ep takes the same gothic flight as the ghosts it depicts and soon infects the internet with the knowledge that your band is fucking breathtaking. But you're late for gym class.

You're 23. You're on a world tour. You've fallen in love. With tounge. You've released 3 albums and tattooed their artwork on you're arm. But everywhere you go you are cursed with whiney little kids asking how your ghost stoy ends. What happens? And you close the book.

This is the Ghostship ep.

Insane melodic instruments. Haunting alien rapscallion vocals.

The Fall Of Troy - The Ghostship Demos

http://www.maybesheforgot.com/audio_demos.htm