|
I went. I saw. I conquered! I'll post something later with pics and the whole shebang.Current Mood:  Living Current Music: there's a fly in here... |
|
well I know, well I know, well I know, well I know she's uncertain
I've certainly put all my efforts into one direction
and I'm facing the facts now, facing the facts now, face the facts as she heads for the door
a kiss on the cheek and a smile goodbye
an awkward moment or two between her and I....and I
I'm still so uncertain
well I guess that's the answer
blurry and snowy
and I can already see all the leaves falling
change is what you make of the world
well I guess I'll just have to leave that
for everybody else
she told me, she told me, she told me, she told me I'm just apathetic
and I tell her there's a difference
from the way that I feel, the way that I feel, the way I feel so bad about everything
but not ever acting on it
and apathy
I never stopped caring about her and I...and I'm
I'm just fucking pathetic
well I guess that's the answer
blurry and snowy
and I can already see all the leaves falling
change is what you make of the world
well I guess I'll just have to leave that
for everybody else
well I guess that's the answer
blurry and snowy
and I can already see all the leaves falling
Gravity pulls you down without you knowing
well I guess that's just one of
a million theories.Current Music: Lemuria - Pants |
|
I'm so stoked! my new band "fires in japan" is recording soon with our dear friend erik ladendorf. I think I might shit myself. If anyone wants a copy, leave me a comment. I think you guys'll like it. We're also in the making of another album for the fall possibly called "repair" which is about a robot with a human heart. Think about it. The story goes a woman has a robot, not a pleasure bot, but a robot. The robot's name is "Repo". He's just a companion, AI robot. The woman really cares for repo, but in the way that someone loves their pet and nothing more. Repo starts to fully understand the concepts of love and touch through this woman and then starts thinking a little outside of the regular robot box. He thinks about her almost as if he were in love, but he takes it as an error in his systems. One night, repo sees his master come home and she begins to cry and lies in bed and sleeps. She sleeps for days and doesn't say anything and repo, not too understanding to the concept of the human sleep pattern, doesn't wake her up because he likes watching her sleep and wishes he could lie with her and hold her close. Unfortunately, repo is connected to a wall because he has no outside energy source, so he's stuck and can't do anything. he wakes up in the middle of the night one night to the sound of a loud thumping. It drives him mad because whenever he turns on, the thumping continues, and the woman's still in bed and he doesn't want to wake her up so he shuts down. This continues for days, then one day, the thumping ensues, and he decides to unplug himself from the wall, with little time he has, goes to the kitchen, finds a can opener and opens up his torso to find a beating human heart with circuitry connected to it. He has a syntax error and passes out. This is the reprise to the song on the next album I want to do which spawns the album's title "repair".
Repo's Lament
a thousand mile drive
a swim across the ocean
wake up to the shades closed
I want to kick this sense of shock
but I'm just happy to be away from the wall
so I can tell you
I know i'm missing pieces
my parts are all worn down
licking my wounds but it just left a copper taste
I can finally hold you in my arms and say...
my mind's been telling secrets
to the rest of my body
I think I know what they're saying
I've got to slow down
or i swear I'll explode
but I'd just be glad to give you a light show
your eyes don't open
cold hands don't cause a stir
crimson paints the floor and I don't understand
why you have a hole in your chest
you gave me your heart...your hearts still beating
jingling of remaining pieces
and a heart to keep me alive
a peaceful rested look upon your face
a note clenched in your hand
"please hear in my silence and space between my words
my earnestness and truth when I say that
I love you. No matter what, you'll always have a part of me"
I can't thank you enough
I needed to be repaired...
so I'll tell all who care when that's going to be coming up. kthnx.Current Mood: ecstatic Current Music: tim playing COD4. It's too late to play music. |
|
Hey cats in motown! Come to the village idiot and see my band play! Nov 28th 8 pm only 5 dooooolars! Well...me and conley at least will play...but STILL! We have cd's for sale too! They're sexy and we'll draw whatever crazy shit you want on them. Only a buck and made using a crappy built in laptop mic and audacity! Not too shabby...come on....Current Music: Wilson Phillips - Hold on [ Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<greatest [...] ever!>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.] Wilson Phillips - Hold on <Greatest jam ever!> |
|
Also
|
Oct. 22nd, 2008 @ 11:40 am
|
|---|
|
Anyone want to move in with me and pat? $333 a month and only $33 in utilities....come on...you know you want to. Plus, no security deposit. It'll be fun...we'll eat some pancakes. |
| » I needz a drummer |
|---|
Does anyone know of any within the metro detroit area? I've been meaning to get this band started and it's not helping that all these drummer homos are hiding under tons of magic tasty sugar cane....that made no sense. Must be the meds talking.
If I could only dream this
I'd wake up in the morning feeling completely rested
but that's not the case here
Oct. 22nd, 2008 @ 11:32 am
|
| » Spared Time |
|---|
Deep sleep, almost coma like
resting under that tree for 50 years
sweet dreams and candlelights
It's time to blow those out,
their flickering is lingering
closed eyelids can bring the comfort
of open arms and that soft embrace
that I used to feel 50 years ago
the seasons change and I know I can't face it
time is bleeding seconds after every cigarette
Doubled over in pain
these rivers of sorrow flood my basement
leave the glass by me
clear blue like her eyes that don't exist
so tell me what just happened here?
When did we decide to pick up the pace?
I'm the two legged man in a three legged human race
concentration, deliberation, motivation, manipulation
So ask me what I saw in my dreams
I saw that flood wash me off this chalkboard
well I guess I'll go back on the sea
fish out that not so overwhelmed part of me.
Sep. 23rd, 2008 @ 02:26 am
|
| » another time doing this because I can |
|---|
OPENING CREDITS: Descendents - Hey Hey
My least favorite descendents song
WAKING UP: The Cure - Same Deep Water as You
Falling asleep maybe...
FALLING IN LOVE: Elliot Smith - 2:45 am
falling out of love?
FIGHT SCENE: The Lawrence Arms - Hey, What Time Is 'Pensacola: Wings Of Gold' On, Anyway?
Why is it that every fight scene i get into has the lawrence arms as a background
BREAKING UP: Megadeth - Kill the King
hahaha....I'm not gay...or like drag kings.
GETTING BACK TOGETHER: Rancid - She's Automatic
hahaha sweet choice.
SECRET LOVE:Lifetime - Cut the Tension
ooooo nice title fit.
LIFE'S OKAY: Lifetime - Just a Quiet Evening
MENTAL BREAKDOWN: Weezer - Surfwax America
Mental breakdown....yeah.
DRIVING FLASHBACK: D4 - Our Science is Tight
PARTYING: The Ataris - The Last Song I Will Ever Write About a Girl
that's one depressing party
HAPPY DANCE: Alkaline Trio - Tuck Me In
Nopers...
REGRETTING: The Misfits - Wolf's Blood
heh...er...nah
LONG NIGHT ALONE: Catch 22 - Day in, day out
THE NEXT MORNING: Cursive - Polar
no
FINAL BATTLE: Against Me! - Baby, I'm an Anarchist
nooOoOooOooOOOOOO! as cool as this song is...no
DEATH SCENE: Placebo - Special Needs
alright.
END CREDITS: MSI - Bitches
hellz yeah suckah duckah.
Sep. 19th, 2008 @ 02:56 am
|
| » "...it's like being homesick for a place that doesn't exist." |
|---|
"You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone. You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place." - Andrew Largeman (Zach Braff) "Garden State"
I just bought that today. I don't know why, but that movie kinda hits home at some points. I have a few friends that have made themselves successful and some of those who I still party with and drink, smoke, and drive around til the wee hours of the morning. I remember somebody told me (in fact a lot of people told me) that leaving grosse pointe was the greatest thing that could have ever happened to them and that I should do it. I honestly don't know about that. it seems all too much for me. I'm on the absolute verge of tears right now. The house is taking way longer than expected, my nights are turning into mornings, the leaves are falling, the fucking sky is falling and I feel so helpless and diaphanous (thank you thesaurus.com) that I don't think that I can withstand the test of time, let alone withstand my current situation. I just want to board a ship, float to the middle of the ocean, and just sit there. I'll burn like a lobster, and hope the disembodied voice of Christopher Walken will find itself in a volley ball with a smiley face made out of my own blood and console me.
I've came to so many conclusions. I've felt so awful for the past month, and it's really fucking sad that I don't think I could talk to anyone. I write in here because I know I won't talk to anyone. I stay out in berkley and sometimes I'm kind of glad I don't talk to anyone. I spent my day today just completely skewing my reality so everything would feel better. I smoked with terrell thompson, one of what used to be the closest friendship I ever had. I was so clingy to this kid because he just brought this pleasantness to everything. We were friends since elementary school. He recently moved back from kalamazoo after he came to the same realization that I did: there's just no escaping this fucking town. Him and I were inseparable up until people realized he had a voice, got popular, knew guitar, and got women and was social, while I just sat to myself listening to the wallflowers and remained in a constant state of depression that every kid feels just feeling completely out of every sort of thing there was to be out of. I remember I faked being a baritone in choir just so I could talk to him in class because I was so lonely and I thought that we could be friends and still be on opposite sides of the spectrum of the socialites.
We drove from south campus and he had this fakie cigarette one hitter and we just smoked what he had left of whatever (I think he said it was chronic), but it was really nice. We listened to sondre lerche, went to lindas, and talked. I mean, I freaked out most of the time and slurred my words, and for once I didn't care. I took him home and he thanked me for the ride and the food, and I just could only think two things:
1) I'm really wasted
2) I want you to stick around again, man. Let's go back to the swing set with tawney furhman and sing lion king and be the outcasts we once were.
Those were the only friends I used to honestly say that I cried to willingly, and not just out of the fact they were there.
I love everyone, don't get me wrong. But I still feel selfish and think that I'm just Serwach. Serwach to me has become a pseudo name for some guy who could throw a massive bash and be so kind and funny and the guy who pukes while lying on his back at his own party. I feel sometimes I'm no longer Andrew. I'm Serwach. I feel like i've lost a lot of identity within the past 5 years and I'm nothing really but someone everyone seems to like and everyone can turn to/Jew. Why is it that everytime I come to someone with a problem it's just a "get over it" issue, when everyone else comes to me with their shit and I try to give solutions, be consoling, and give whatever I have. It's like putting in a penny for a mechanical horse ride when your a kid, and instead of getting the full ride, you just get the fizzing, dying sounds of a horse's "nay". I want someone to give me a fucking hug and a fucking shoulder to bawl on for once. I feel this is what a friendship's for.
I've been writing a lot of sad stuff lately. I usually do it at work just to get the creative juices flowing. Dave Roberts, being the true friend he is, says all my songs are about drinking, smoking, and coffee. It fucking hurt. I don't know if he still uses his live journal. Well, if you do man, now you know. I'm being a complete pussy about this. IT FUCKING HURT ME. I know it doesn't seem like much, but I always have been a firm believer in writing about what you know, and so...there ya' go. That's been my life for the past couple of months. I've been feeling lousy and drinking, smoking, and drinking pot after pot of coffee. Instead of taking for what my experiences are worth, dave could've said, "so..what the hell is this about?" Instead, he brings his personal politics into what I write about and tells me how uncreative my writing is because everyone apparently writes about all that shit. I don't mind criticism. It's not my favorite, but I know everyone has opinions and stuff. For all he had known, this could've been a cry for help and just a way to throw those emotions out of my system and not for the sole fact of selling a non existent album that could eventually come along and make me millions. I get shafted on his grading scale of writing because it lacked the wordplay like leatherface and jawbreaker, and had no real metaphor behind it. It really pissed me off how he actually picked up one of the songs I left at work, as well as two others, brought it around my co-workers and dissected the parts about drinking and thought that I was trying to be "deep".
Anyways, the rest of my day was drinking. I drank at around 4 with my friend Kaitlin and her ex girlfriend and her ex's current boyfriend Amelio. I was still stoned and they had some disorono, which we hid from the outside world in coke bottles; it tasted like cherry coke. Anyways, we went through borders drunk and stoned looking at movies. I found the mystery science theater movie, which wasn't all that great, plus a copy of what I based today's 10 pages of "oh woe is me" lecture, Garden State. I haven't seen it in forever. I sat downstairs and finished it once through, almost crying in front of my cousin. I'm on my 3rd time watching it tonight. I get like that with sad, (oh, excuse me, dave) "DEEP" movies like that. I get that way every time I see SLC punk. That scene when bob and steve-o were in the basement playing D&D and bob brings over the single of "Kiss Me Deadly" by Generation X. You feel a part of you was missing a dramatic climax, with a beautiful, meaningful, paralleled soundtrack to go with it, other than the sounds of people yelling at you for making sandwiches wrong or the smashing of beer bottles and screeching tires in the night.
I'm starting to regret my decision of staying here. I feel empty. It's always had a part of me, but this place holds only a tiny piece of my heart. The rest is for everyone else. And it makes me sad, and it's actually cuing the water works, but my heart is for everyone else to take. When is it going to be mine again, and I'll distribute the pieces better?
I'm gonna go write a song about drinking smoking, doing drugs, feeling like shit. It might not be an Attack of the... song. But damn it, I don't care because it's my fucking song.
There are days I wish I was at the biltmore estate and diving into the scenery. Maybe at that point I'll become the scenery and I'll be background noise. I already feel like the hidden track.
Sep. 19th, 2008 @ 01:28 am
|
| » Dear everyone... |
|---|
Stop growing up. You're depressing me. You've all got something interesting going on. I don't. I cleaned up shit all day at work. Literally...shit. The drains backed up and there was corns and nuts everywhere. I came home, had a drink with my cuz, and now I feel like the most emo piece of crap ever. I can't even masturbate. I've got a ton of classes this semester, including a bowling class, instructed by a Morgan Freeman look alike. Crazy. I can't even consider doing anything else other than work school and drinking. I lost my cell phone. Gotta buy a new one. Someone stole it I think. Looks like I'll have to wait til tuesday. I'm writing really choppily right now. It seems like a cluster fuck of phrases and nothing interesting. Ps. I guess I can masturbate. I'm a tad bit over it. Stop reading....now.
Sep. 1st, 2008 @ 02:18 am
|
| » Well, since everyone else has a story to tell... |
|---|
So, I am currently not living in South Carolina. Plus. I'm not living with my parents. Uber plus. I find myself quite content at the moment and can't wait to get this house with pat. It's SCS, but whatevs. My old house now is without graffiti, and everyone's name is off the wall of the garage. I'm sorry. I took some pictures before removing it and I'll get some of the pictures up and sorry if ur name isn't in it.
And to go back to the beginning of my epic quest as a level 58 loser, it starts with a girl. So I was dating this girl sunny about a couple of months ago, and she was a very sweet girl, no doubt, but for gods name, was the biggest lacker in affection. I don't ask for sex. It's always a positive, but I don't ask for it, but this relationship was exhausting. It took me three months to get to hold this girl's hand because she has never had a relationship, never liked human contact, and the thought of kissing just frightened her. After 4 months, I sneaked a kiss (even if she did want to kill me), and after that she became comfortable with it. After 6 months, we decided to call it quits. She didn't like hanging with my friends and drinking, and spent most of my time with them because I got more positive reinforcement from them than from her.
A day later, I admit this lame crush I had to a girl named Ashley...she's 17. Not really bad, but still bad from what I’ve been told. I believe the half your age plus 7 rule. it's not the best rule to follow, but from what I understand of social standards, it works...until ur really old. So things were good. I got my affection and someone fun that I knew for a while, plus really smart. I hear from multiple friends that she had a thing with cheating on her boyfriends with the same guy over and over again. I discussed this with her and she convinced me over and over again that she wanted to be with me. She liked me...I guess. I let those deadly three words come out after 3 weeks, and it just kind of went downhill from there. It felt right. It was a comfortable moment because I knew her, and I knew her personality for the most part.
I'd like to think that I'm a hard working guy, and that really bugged her. I'd be working 4 to close every night and she had school and curfew and all that lame teen stuff, but I didn't mind. Then everything turns weird. She has a needle fetish, she wants to try every drug on the menu, and she's uber gun slinging NRA red neck esque conservative, and thus, things get interesting because I thought I knew enough about this girl to consider her not on the crazy list, and I wasn't smart enough to back away. So the night of the SCS fireworks, obviously, I had to work. She tells me she's not thrilled, but we'd go see the GP fireworks when I got out of work that Sunday. She tells me she's going with Kenny, the guy she cheats on every guy with. I trusted her for the most part. And also mind you this was my first night out of the GP house and out on my own living with my cousin in Berkley. So I'm excited, and I call her up at closing and she's leaving the fireworks and doesn't say that much. I tell her I'd text her when I got home because driving and texting is lame.
So I get home, and I try to unlock the door. I unlock the bottom lock, but the top is still locked. Thinking the key worked for both locks, I try it. Nothing happens. The front screen door is locked, and I don't have a key. All the windows are locked and no one's home. So...fuck. I lay in my car and think I'm just sleeping there, make my cuz feel jokingly bad about it in the morning, and let it go. I'm lying down in my car texting her and she says, "I have to tell you something, but you have to promise you won't get mad..." uh oh...I think I know where this is going.
"Alright...what is it?"
"I kissed Kenny at the fireworks."
Ouch.
After all this girl said to me, convinced me that there was nothing going on, even to the point where she said she wouldn't date this guy ever again, she still does it. It would hurt less if she was decisive, but she's 17. I don't blame her because I pulled the same bullshit. This all pisses me off, but I just let her go. I hold it all inside and tell her to just do her thing, this is over...I’m done. I couldn't stand being in my car. I needed something better and warmer to lie on. Having the key to my old house, I drive all the way from Berkley to grosse pointe at 5 AM, bawling my eyes out like a little girl with a skid fuckin' knee, listening to "linger" by the Cranberries. I go to the basement, and all that's left is a kitchen table, a desk, and a TV stand. Knowing full well about the massive millipedes in my basement, I said fuck that and slept on the table. I had work at 11 that next morning. I go into work and explain the story and everyone goes "fuck that bitch". Thanks...but that doesn't help.
So a day passes, and I go to Luna, where we both have friends at and both hang out, and there she is...with him. I turn my ass around and walk out that door. I get a text an hour later from her.
"So...everyone hates me now. They said I really fucked up"
Well...no shit.
I get drunk that weekend and texting her all these nasty things. She comes to me with a problem saying that her parents are getting divorced, and all her karma has gone out of whack since she left me for Kenny. Knowing how divorces work, and being drunk and pissed, I reply, "well, think of it this way..."
"...at least you get two Christmases."
To say the least...not amused.
Weeks pass and I just don't have the confidence anymore. My cousin suggests karaoke night at hartfield lanes. I always like karaoke, and plus I needed to get back in the game...not really. But I go out and there are these girls eying me at from their booth, and my cousin notices and says something to me about it. 10 confidence points to the broken soul. So I do my usual tunes..."Come Sail Away" by Styx, "Rock this Town" by The Stray Cats, and i'm happy for the first time in 2 weeks. These girls dig it, and have fun and dance, and the one I was particularly interested in stops me as I walk away from the stand, and she asks, "Hey! Do you know any John Denver?" I replied with the usual "country roads" and she shrieks with joy because apparently, she signed up for the song...and didn't know all the words. It's singer boy to the rescue. I sing the tune with her and we have a blast. I sit at the bar stool next to this girl and her friend's booth. They complement me on my singing, and I'm happy. I have about 7 beers in me, and I'm happy. She asks me how old I am and I give her the straight answer of twenty years old. She asks how I get away with it, and I tell her I just get the drinks and sing and no one asks questions. She smiles at me and asks how old I thought she was. "You look about 23 or so..."
"Aw...well you're real sweet. But I'm really 38...and married."
Then I noticed the ring on her right hand...and on her friends' hands too.
The blows just keep coming.
So I'm in a rut. I find myself drinking captains to go to sleep, I smoked like a fiend, and I really was fine being single...but kind of not, you know? it killed me I had no one to share cutesie moments with, or a cigarette or a beer with, or anyone to spend time with that wasn't someone who just wanted to get drunk and talk star wars...although cool, but really wasn't what I was looking for. So I deal, kept working, kept saving, kept drinking (don't know how I managed that) and was just doing what I believe to be the routine adult thing. My mother during all this kept telling me "well...you should've came down with us." I give her a "fuck you" in a round about manner. Stuff gets a bit better, I got a new guitar (fender jagmaster, which was better than the les paul that was 20 bucks more) and I got some video games to kill some time. In all honesty, with all the material possession, I felt good for a while, but in all honesty, things still sucked.
Kristine, a friend whom I don't believe any of you except for a select few know, tells me there's a friend of hers that's coming down for trixie's open mic. she's cute, sexy, a feminist, she plays guitar, has a kick ass voice, and I base this off a couple of pictures of her and a guitar and a two piece bathing suit, and her at halloween as rosie the riveter...that's her name right? Anyways, so I'm still in "I have no confidence mode." Kristine tells me I'd do well, and she'd like me. So she walks past, and I am in an utter state of fear. She's gorgeous. The pictures didn't lie. She plays guitar quite well, has a strong, womanly voice, hot as hell...and I had a blind sniper's shot with this girl. I choke all night. "Just go talk to her" Psh, hell no. You don't just go up to a girl like that and talk to her. You have to have some sort of slick move around to her. I had no slick tricks. I never have. It's always, "hey cool t-shirt" or "Nice set tonight. You can really wail...SCHWING!" So I sit in fear, keeping my distance waiting in the tall grass for the gazelle. This is it, suck it up...and...my voice cracks like a pre-pubescent boy. "Hi...uh...i'm kristine's friend andrew..." She smiles very warmly and I knew it was the "I don't give a shit, but trying to remain extremely friendly" smile, but I go on.
"so...er...kristine says you like going to lindas...wanna come with us? I live in berkley and could give you the ride to ferndale if you'd like."
"Oh...well..my friends and I are going to hang out. thank you for the invite though."
I say cool and I just leave her be. We go to linda's and everything still sucks for the most part. I'm with a crowd of people who are undeniably miserable, which made me feel miserable, then would laugh at dick jokes. wow...this is what it's come to.
A couple days later, my friend tim tells me about her friend jene`. French. Cool. She's cute too...but ditzy as shit...alright...I'll let that slide. I base the ditziness factor not on things tim told me, but rather the fact she squealed like a cheerleader when I jokingly played "i'm not okay" by MCR. Lame. But she's still nice...nice is good according to jim carey, but I'm a beggar being a chooser...so I guess I'm a dick. We drink at maggies, have a good time, and chill and all that shit. I haven't talked to her really since.
That week shiela, my cousin's girlfriend (mind you, they're a lesbian couple),has a little get together with both hers and my family. we all eat, drink, and are generally merry. sheila tells me to talk to her niece, Courtnee. Apparently she's been playing me up to this girl for weeks now. I knew that this was a bad idea. Family of friends is never the right way to go. you eradicate any friendship/relationship by doing that if you severely fuck up. Plus, playing up and not meeting to expectations really sucks on both parts. so I talk to courtnee, she's a sweet girl, likes music and movies, cute, friendly...I like her okay. We chill out and kick back a few in front of the fire pit. I tell her about my art stuff, and my past couple of weeks. We exchange numbers and she drives home. I didn't think she really liked me. I felt too obnoxious and antsy...and drunk.
A week passes and shiela comes up to me. "so...you haven't texted courtnee...why?"
"I'm too chicken shit, to be honest. I don't think she really liked me."
"Are you kidding? She likes ya'. She's coming down from school this weekend and we'll
all hang out. You liked her, right?"
"Of course, she was really cute and nice..."
"Well...dum dum, do something. Take her out"
The day before she came home, my credit card gets stolen and 200 bucks is out of my bank account. I'm still currently waiting on my new card, plus my claim sheet to get my money back.
So Courtnee calls me. Her friend is bar tending at a pizza place/ martini bar called the living room. I get twenty from my cousin Rachel (which I still owe her) and courtnee and I go to the bar. We go to the bar and bullshit. She sees a friend and starts talking to her and I let them talk. I had a washington apple martini...and I'm drunk after half the glass. Strong as hell and very good tasting: deadly mix. After our stay at the bar, we go to her friend Rachel's house. We get a twelve pack of bud light and sit there. we find that her friend rachel is still at the bar drinking. So we pack up camp and move it to my house.
So at the house, she tells me she’s never seen Empire Records. That is a travesty. I grab the movie and we watch it and drink and talk and joke. Because of the fear of a DUI, she stays the night. Score right? Nah, I remain the gentleman and just offer her my bed and myself the couch. She tells me she’s fine on the couch. I give her one of my own blankets and gave myself the thin one and froze to death because I swear I live with vampire lesbians who love the freezing cold. She didn’t know this, but that’s how it went.
That morning, my cousin wakes up for a softball game that she had at 8. From what she told me, she looks outside and freaks when she sees courtnees car. She runs out of her room…and sees court sleeping on the couch alone. Fun side story to that, not necessary, but eh.
My friend Tim fucks anything with two legs and a vagina that he finds attractive. Go him, but I have some sort of moral code, I guess. I told him this story and he laughs. “Dude, I truly and deeply admire your amount of gentlemanliness, I really do…but at the same time, it really sickens me. That’s such a choice time, and you didn’t do anything?”
This week, I got written up at work. Owner’s a dick and doesn’t know how to run a store. I’m leaving subway soon. Free sandwiches and $8.25 isn’t worth this bullshit. The weekend went by really funnily. My friend Hayley from camp comes down and we partied all weekend. First night she’s here, I have my friends come over and we have a pint of captains, soco, some knock off apple schnapps, and a shit ton of beer. We drink like crazy and courtnee comes over. It’s Maggie, Jeff, Josh, Rob, Courtnee, Nine, Hayley, Rachel, Sheila, and I playing “Preferences”, drinking and having a good time. At around 4, everyone, excluding Hayley, tim, my cousin, Sheila, and courtnee leaves. I wanted courtnee to stay again. She has to go…it’s four in the fucking morning…bummer. Tim comes downstairs when Sheila was saying that Rachel and her weren’t gonna be home tomorrow for the Police show they were going to. Sheila repeats for Tim’s sake and Tim drunkenly jokes, “Cool. Orgies.” Sheila asks for a redo for his reaction. He goes back upstairs, comes back down and Sheila repeats her statement and Tim looks at Courtnee and I and says:
“…are you guys gonna need condoms?”
Courtnee leaves. I feel like a dick and I almost kick Tim in the head.
Saturday morning starts with all of us a bit achy and hung over-y. Hayley looks at me and goes “So what are you planning on wearing today when you me and courtnee go to royal oak? You know what, it doesn’t matter, because you’re dressing up and cleaning up your look. Guaranteed, Courtnee’s dressing up.”
I shape up, shaving my stubble, put on a white and blue plaid shirt and we go and pick up courtnee and behold, she’s wearing this cute dress. Something the two of them obviously planned. So we hit up the same bullshit shops that we always go to in RO: Noir, Incognito… and then we go to a little thai place and talk. We hang at the house and Hayley heads inside. Keep in mind, I haven’t told Courtnee I really like her. I’ve been trying to find a way to and every time seems to equal some sort of failure. We head to the door to sit inside and play some Mario Party 8, and before we hit the door, I ask her, “So…is it true that we’re both too chicken shit to admit that we actually like each other?” She smirks at me.
“Yup.”
I sensed failure.
Courtnee leaves to go see her friend Rachel, and Hayley and myself stay at the house, play wii and drink. Courtnee arrives hours later, stoned, and I was worried she wasn’t coming. I didn’t care she was stoned, I wanted to see her… is that weird? It’s the same crowd as last time, minus nine, josh and rob, add Pat Campbell. We sit around and drink and Sheila and Rachel come home and drink with us. Courtnee decides to stay the night again. Everyone leaves, Hayley goes to bed early, and it’s just Courtnee and myself drinking and I try to figure out what the hell to do. I feel bad when I don’t entertain. So we go upstairs and I get out Edward Scissorhands. She smiles and tells me that’s one of her favorite movies. I’m happy…but drunk and tired. So I sit on the couch and I begin to pass out. Every time my eyes closed she laughs to herself. “I think it’s cute you’re trying so hard to stay up.”
“well, I feel there’s something I haven’t done. I’m in such a constant state of anxiety that something goes undone with my 24 waking hours.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Well, laundry, I still need to do that Beaumont app, and…finally admitting that you’re really cute and I actually really like you but am so afraid of rejection.”
She has this pretty smile. It kind of makes me all melty. I’m trying hard not to fall too fast. She goes to eastern, has a bright future as a math teacher…I’m just a bum that draws comics and hopes to write something really sappily romantic and millions of copies will be sold. But she smiles and lies her head on my shoulder. I lay my head on hers and I fall asleep. I wake up at the end of the movie and I let her have the big couch to sleep on and I sleep on the smaller couch; again, gentlemanliness.
That morning we went to brunch at the BBC, ate, and I drop her off at home.
I can’t stop thinking about how well things are getting. I have some sort of confidence now, I like a pretty and fun girl who knows who Kevin smith is, and she likes me back, I’ve got a new job lined up that isn’t food service and worth more wage wise and worthwhile because I’d be helping people in a sense, and a house in the process of being mine. I want this to be a comic so bad, but sadly, I don’t think anyone could take these times and truly understand them the way I do because I don’t have the artistic ability and confidence to work that right…but I really do want to make that. And when it comes to courtnee, I want to see her next weekend. Call me quickly one minded, but if you met this girl, you’d know. I can’t wait til Friday rolls around. I know this entry was long as fuck, but this is more or less for me and for people who have said they have had some shit go down. So I thought I’d join the pity club. It’s four AM again, and I can’t sleep because it’s odd not doing anything with someone. I find it cute and sad that she didn’t mind me sleeping on her head. But I’m done. Update over. Andrew WK tomorrow with pat, if not for AWK, for the sheer thrill of travel outside Detroit. Someone call me. I’m living in Berkley and I have nothing else going on. Parties are allowed at the house on weekends and we have bon fires going most of the time. You know the code, just stick it in. 608-1981.
And my mother has no faith in me living on my own…pshaw.
Jul. 28th, 2008 @ 02:03 am
|
| » 4:30 and still no signs of sleeping |
|---|
Song writing at 4 am is great! It makes me want to die and consider all the awful things that are about to occur! Oh, and listening to bands that I haven't heard in forever. For example, harvey danger. It's really weird how we just let that one slip past us. But anywho, I'm trying to get a title out of this, and get some feed back. I've got the music for it. I know there are some literary critics out there...any suggestions?
It's kinda sad that no one remembers Harvey Danger
and those long late night walks we used to take
where worldly politics didn't mean a thing
except the stuff older people talked about
Yesterday's heroes are now people's memories
Everything is just quotes and thrown aside notes
Stored in shoe boxes and to never be recovered
And is this the happiness that I honestly hoped for?
2 decades have past
and not a single lesson learned
2 more lonely beers
and I swear this will be the last time
2 more smiles
that I will forget
that I have repressed
and every walk I take will make me think about it
it's kinda sad no one remembers how naive we were
and now everyone's drunk and feeling misplaced
I guess there is no real difference but our time here
but now we can't see the beauty of anything anymore
I packed up all the boxes I'm shipping out of town
Another parcel of notes I wish I could take with me
but I've treaded too far to come swimming back to shore
as beautiful as this is, it's still a desert isle
2 more goodbyes
and I swear I'll feel it in the morning
2 more sad songs
and you won't hear another from me
2 more sweet lies
to make this go away
to make me go to sleep
but I can't
does it keep you up at night?
please tell me I'm not the only
does it keep you dreaming?
the pills I have taken don't help me
the pills I have taken don't make me forget
I'm leaving this week for Berkley, MI. Wish me luck. I'll be back in town permanently come august. I'm sure I'll see you around.
Jun. 16th, 2008 @ 04:28 am
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
I'm moving soon...this time it's for certain. We're moving to south carolina, and to be perfectly honest, as much as I'd like to stay, I don't know if I could stay. It's hard enough trying to get by on subway wages and trying to do school and shit, so I think it's best if I went with the fam. I haven't been doing my best in school, I'm not motivated, and all these projects, all these ideas I have had for music and drawing just turn out to be shit to me. "Strewn Across the Ceiling" even came out as a bust. I'm only a page and a half into it and I already hate the fact that I can't stay focused on it, or just art in general. Everything I do seems shitty. As much as running away isn't the answer, it seems that I need a new environment, maybe....I don't know...
I might join the coast guard. Jim said I could get a decent living off of that until I finish school. I'd go to boot camp and shit like that, but I wouldn't be shipped off anywhere. He's not a recruiter and he's not one to bullshit about those types of things. I'm not sure though. My cousin offered a room at her old house, but I'd be living with my uncle, my cousin, her 3 year old kid, and she's got another baby on the way.
It's a catch 22. I'm damned if i do, damned if I don't.
I think beyond my garage, and the small group I hang out with, and Sunny, there's really not much here for me. I always wanted to see whats beyond the wall, but I'm afraid of the abyss, and not knowing anything at all. I can't use words right, I'm a slacker, I drink a lot, and I don't know if there's really anything else for me. I'd like to try something different, but again, i'm afraid to. And it seems recently that whatever I try, I definitely fuck up. That's for sure. I just overall feel useless. I used to really enjoy life. Now I'm over-tired or an insomniac, I'm pushing towards alcoholism, apparently, and I just feel like a waste. I could do so much, I could've done so much, but I feel like there's nothing left. I wasted my resources, taken advantage of situations, and now I feel kinda unnecessary. I felt I had purpose and then it went away. I thought I could live for other people, that if they could come over and have a couple of beers and talk, I was important. I don't feel that anymore. I feel there's maybe more beyond what I consider a daily chore of drinking and seeing my friends and sleeping in until 3 pm. I just feel weighed down and exhausted and I'm sick of myself and the people around me.
I can only play so many games of pool until I realize we've been at snookers for the past week, and now there's nothing new to do. I need something new; that might be it. But I don't know. My life's a waste. Whenever I feel I do good, I just fuck up. No one listens to great lake saint clair, or at least takes it seriously beyond the fact that it's someone they know making the music. I feel like shit. I feel like screaming. I feel like dying, and no song that I write helps. I could put every last bit of effort into making something that everyone can level to, and in the end, I'm by myself on the situation. I want people to maybe not feel as sad as I do, but maybe come to some sort of level ground and go, "yeah, I've dealt with that. Man that sucks." But I feel ostracized from the way everyone else feels. I'm misinformed, I'm not very educated, and I feel like I've got nothing left to lose, except for myself, and even that's starting to slip away.
I hope none of this makes sense. Grammar's for suckers.
Apr. 9th, 2008 @ 03:59 pm
|
| » Smelly Toes and Benefit Shows |
|---|
God, I can't remember the last time I updated this shite. Hey world of bloggers...you leet speakers and people that want to be heard but not at the same exact time! Important, Important news. I've got a show coming up. You should all go! A benefit basement show is going on for Jimmy Lawson’s Dad. He was diagnosed with Brain Cancer, and so we wanted to help out and get them some cash so they can get a few of those bills paid! It'd be nice if you all came out and showed support and toss down some duckets. Bring friends! It’s gonna be one hell of a show for one hell of a cause! w/ Under Anchor, All Hype, Deathskin Razors, Attack of the..., Forty Lashes, and my band, Great Lake Saint Clair. Set Sail was gonna play, but they canceled and so we got the spot. Only $5 and it's at 22047 David, Eastpointe, Michigan 48021. It's a good choice if you honestly have jack shit to do on a Saturday night. Seriously. It's the hip thing to do. I'm excited. Fuckin love all of these bands (I'm really looking forward to Under Anchor!).
Jan. 7th, 2008 @ 07:55 am
|
| » PLEASE COME ALL OVER ME! |
|---|
HEY! Me and gerbil bits are doing stuff at open mic for the whole rateau thing. Please come! Friday night, around 8 pm, Luna Cafe (9 mile and greater mack). A producer is coming to hear us, so you all need to come and give some support. Listen to the tunes on either my myspace (www.myspace.com/rateau) or my pure volume (www.purevolume.com/rateau) and learn the damn songs and sing along! I don't care if you don't like the music damn it! just do it! Ya just gotta give'er, ya know?
any questions? good I'm being forceful enough! *shakes fist*
Sep. 20th, 2007 @ 02:30 pm
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
by the way, I hate you all and this song explains it.
Sep. 2nd, 2007 @ 01:45 pm
|
| » 6am cross town |
|---|
well, that song i posted is now a most excellent song. check it out. www.myspace.com/drawnoutmusic or www.purevolume.com/rateau
Sep. 2nd, 2007 @ 01:42 pm
|
| » siren song |
|---|
we're burning out like candle light
our hearts are there
but we lost the will to fight
everyone just packed up
and left us all behind
I think this IV's broken
just please break out the arsenic
I'm so tired and drained
after all these undelivered hopes
I catch the last bus to downtown
before the streetlights turn on
I leveled with this leveled city
poverty and instability
but deep down so pretty
laying down on concrete
is not a field of grass to me
I'm not like you all
I have hopes and I have dreams
It's kinda sad knowning one day
I'll be laying in my bed
one of you will be on a stretcher
crossing those city lines
and as I watch the lights dance
across my window sill
I won't know it was you that
those sirens were singing for
those sirens were singing for
those sirens were singing for...(etc)
I'm really excited about this song. sometime I'll play it at some open mic when i don't have to fucking work or otherwise. I had this other verse and chorus in there but i'm not sure if it flows well with the rest of it.
we tried the best we could
to get the hell out of here
by drinking ourselves to rest
our weary burnt out minds
that we rapped against brick walls
I really want to recover
what we used to be about
aimless nights and singing songs
by solitary garage light
it gives up the entire story too quick and doesn't have to do with the fact that one of these days our self destructive ways are gonna fuck us up hardcore (says the man who wants a forty of pbr everynight). I duno. tell me what you think I guess. I'll have it recorded sometime this week. or next. depending.
Aug. 31st, 2007 @ 01:53 am
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
it's official...
I wanna drive my car into lake st. clair.
it's 5:30 and I have work at 11. I can't sleep. I eat wayyyy too much, and I still can't think straight. I think my friends all hate me because I'm sick of my mother bitching at me about them and then I, therefore, bitch to them. I'm thinking of ditching the moving with ty thing and just take a bus to the middle of nowhere and start my life anew, like some bad teen novel where the coked out bitch decides it's time to get everything straight and lives in a rural area, grows crops, and finds a husband. I don't know what story that'd be from, but believe me...it's cliche` in some manner. I wanna go back to florida and see if my dad can get me a job there. My mother told me the other night that I sounded like my father (in a negative manner). How the fuck would she know? it's been over 19 years since she talked to the bastard. It's not like I completely dislike my father, but he's definitely not a rolemodel for the youngins. I really hope he doesn't have anymore kids. that'd be kinda frightening. I considered the fact that I definitely won't be able to get this comic done. I never can. It'd be great. It'd really be great. But I can't. I fell all of those who inspired this amazing story of a group of people and a garage filled with a bunch of shit where we'd spend drunken nights and hungover mornings in is now just what it was meant to be. Just simply a garage. It's lost all its luster. There is no more garage. It's just a cd player, a tv, 3 couches, a chair, a table, and a pile a mile high of cigarette butts and 64oz drinks. I hate the fact that brianna can't fucking watch herself. She got pissy with me about the god damn remote tonight. 12 am too. I know kids can stay up later in the summer, but this stupid kid is up until 2 am watching disney channel. And that's what this was about. Some zach effron or whatever the fuck was doing this show that was prerecorded on our tv and I was watching simpsons and scrubs reruns I've never seen before. I tell her she can watch it tomorrow and I had dibs and the remote. She starts screaming bloody fucking murder. What the hell is that?! Honestly!
florida's not sounding too bad right now.
I love you all and I'm sorry.
Aug. 12th, 2007 @ 05:36 am
|
| » song of the week |
|---|
Lifetime - Northbound breakdown
Across the station it's a fact, there ain't no place left to stop
too far away for me to hold cupboards empty T.V.'s sold
Come along come down and see come down your stairs I'm waiting
It's almost time for us to go, won't you open up your door
I hope your in your car right now
Turning this shit up so loud
I hope your in the mood to
tune into my favorite station
Across the nation it's a fact, you ain't ever coming back
Car is running out of gas, push it up the overpass
Come along come down and sing about this voice they're making
You stayed away too long, so I wrote for you this song
I hope your in your car right now
Turning this shit up so loud
I hope your in the mood to
tune into my favorite station
Sweetie pie come along, come along, come down your stairs
Don't make me wait too long, come along, cuz summer's here
I had a dream last night...or this morning. Ty and myself and lyz were thinking about moving in together. Lyz can't do it, which I really really really don't hold it against her whatsoever (not dream part). (dream part now commencing)for some reason, it made me think about something from the past. When ty chrissy and I were younger, we would see this house on the corner of hampton when we'd walk back to the 8 mile house. ty and chrissy would always say that that was their dream home. funny thing was, ty was living there, and chrissy adn terrell were gonna have a room (shows how long ago this was) and I felt left out because it was their joke thing and I wasn't in on it. I then proclaimed that I'd be the weird lazy guy hanging in the basement like the couch dude from Half Baked...except without the extensive pot use. Chrissy and ty never really gave in on me being there in their dream home, but I felt like I was. And I thought about this. Considering that the house that ty has established for us, I really wanted to turn the basement into a room, and in my head it played out as ty gets a room and chrissy gets a room kinda like our dream home on hampton...except in bfnw on hall. Now doesn't it seem really odd to have such a nearly forgotten memory come in at the most convenient moment? WEEEIIIIRRRDDDD. *sigh* But since we don't have a third, we have no real chance at the house until we do. CHrissy doesn't care for ty now a days. so I still think it's a dream that the two best friends I had in my youth would share a house with me. It'd be fucking weirdly great to have such an occurance in my life, but I don't think so. I think I'm just weird right now. I've wanted to move out and the house is nice, but shit...I duno. It's like one of those really bad sitcom moments where the hero, yours truly (TO SOUND COMPLETELY NARCISSISTIC), is still stuck on square one thus continuing the series for another season...
because I know all of you like watching...don't look at me that way...
Aug. 11th, 2007 @ 05:23 am
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
fold_closefresh's journal