Snippets of the Morose

Last Message Home

2011-08-28T12:19:00.000-07:00

I had this idea, for two years, and thanks to photoshop premiere, I was finally able to task myself to make it. Enjoy.

Change for the better.

2011-01-20T22:01:00.000-08:00

I have changed A Priori Inevitability (meaning an action that is made without prior judgment and is inevitable) to Ne + Ultra (Beyond the highest point of anything). Hopefully this makes sense. So as a last hurrah for this person's blog collective, I propose to change Snippets of the Morose; the look, the feel, and the title. I already have an idea in mind for the style. The name will be a little more difficult to come by. We'll see...

The Vines: Ride-2:36

Anchors aweigh!

2011-01-20T20:32:00.000-08:00

Stand Navy out to sea,
Fight our battle cry;
We’ll never change our course,
So vicious foe steer shy, y, y, y;
Roll out the T.N.T.;
Anchors aweigh;
Sail on to victory,
and sink their bones to Davy Jones hooray!
Anchors aweigh, my boys, anchors aweigh.
Farewell to foreign shores.
We sail at break of day, day, day, day.
Through our last night ashore.
Drink to the foam.
Until we meet once more.
Here’s wishing you a happy voyage home.
Ooh, rah, ___ (Division #)
Go Navy!
Smooth Sailing!

Shock and Awe

2011-01-19T13:30:00.000-08:00

I will be on a two month break from SOTM and API due to my days in boot camp. I'm joining the navy as an Aviation Machinists Mate and will be proud to uphold the constitution as a sailor. The WHOLE constitution! Not just bits and pieces.

What is an Aviation Machinists mate (rate AD)? I fix any matter of machine that flies. It's an exciting endeavor and there's not much else I can say related to this matter because I'm not sure how it's all going to pan out. I'm confident in my abilities to make it work.

That's it for now.

Enigma: Endless Quest-3:06

Horse Face

2011-01-18T04:32:00.001-08:00

Horse Face, originally uploaded by Σ (Sigma).

The Best Things in life are free.

ReHash

2011-01-16T21:59:00.000-08:00

For a time, I was burnt out on music. Listening to the same expressionless pop the music industry cranked out every five or so years. I dabbled in the darker artists, and followed the strange ones. Found a comfortable medium, and stuck to it for the former progression of my teenage years. It was okay, not great. When I heard a song which brought me hope, the hope would dissipate with every repeat. I found myself back to square one. Then there was Depeche Mode.

At twelve I used to rummage through my stepfather’s CD collection, for songs I could ignore when I was playing my video games. I stumbled upon The Wedding Singer soundtrack, slipped it into my boom box, and played away. I would pause the game every so often for reality checks and to enjoy track number eight, on volume two, Just can’t get enough.

I don’t quite remember what was so interesting about that song; maybe it was the pop inflection which attracted my young mind, or the ominous otherworldly presence. It sounded as if it was made just yesterday, and I remember asking myself who Depeche Mode was. For the next nine years, it was that song in my head. A way of rehashing good times, busting out dance moves in the middle of the street at eighteen.
I heard things from time to time about Depeche mode, how they had a song called “Personal Jesus”, or was it Marylin Manson and Johnny Cash who sang it? I was never too sure. I didn’t consider reading about this song mix up, or wondering who did it. So I ignored it, and all of the artists attributed to the making of it. Depeche mode existed in the back of my mind, somewhere between Eminem and the BeeGees, and I was comfortable knowing they were there, where I didn’t have to put too much hope on their music, leading to another disappointment like so many artists had done to me before.

Not many people approached me about them, but I sensed they had a huge following; probably somewhere in Germany, which is where I assumed they were from. Posters for a CD called “Playing the Angel” were posted in local music stores and on a few of my friend’s walls. I found the cover a tad garish and I didn’t understand the little man made of feathers. Once again, I chose not to stick my head through the looking glass and learn something new. My own arrogance and abrasiveness towards general media prevented me from moving forward.

At nineteen, I was euphoric with lust. I scrambled through my brother’s CD collection searching for the perfect song to fit an evening filled with intent, discipline, and pain. Playing the Angel slid out of the case and I said out loud, “He listens to Tool, how could he possibly be interested in an ‘80’s pop band?” My brother was attuned to dark lyrics and even darker rhythms.

I trusted his taste in music this once and slipped the CD into the surround system. Immediately a booming, grinding sound hit my ears, causing me to jump with fright and a strange delight. A shadowy bass surrounded the room and drew me asunder. It was dark, angry, and a perfect song to help me control my concentration. It made me wonder if this was indeed the same Depeche mode that did “Just can’t get enough.”
Intrigued, I played it on the way to my session, during, and after. With this album, I experienced the spectrum of emotions starting with anger, sadness, confusion; working to misery and hope. I danced around the house to “John the revelator”, and cried to the tender beats of “Precious”, which were the predominant tracks I played on the album. What kept me from listening to the entire album? I’ll never be quite sure.

I dug around for another Depeche Mode album my brother was hiding called “Violator”. I remember this CD from when I was fifteen. I had a font with the same name on my computer; the font was a smooth, almost painted cursive. It was my favorite font for awhile, but, my computer crashed and I moved on with my life. The CD was in my hands, the name echoed in my head, questions burning in my mind. I played it, yet I don’t recount anything from that album. I’m not sure why either, perhaps it stuck somewhere in my mind, but on the surface, there was no recollection. No memories of disappointment, not heartstrings had been touched. As I look back I wonder how I could have ignored this music.

It wasn’t until second semester of my first year in college, when I chose to reopen my ears to new artists. I had gotten too comfortable with Björk and Enigma, I was eager to turn over a new leaf. I had cut my hair, pierced the other side of my lip, and received enough money to invest in a new artist. I had considered buying Depeche Mode simply because they hadn’t let me down yet, which was good enough. It was their greatest hits album I bought; considering it was the only Depeche Mode album in stock at Wal-Mart (I expected it).

I ripped the entire CD onto my computer. Stowing it away for a time when my mood stoked the fires of infinite understanding, hoping it would be in the days following. I listen to music I can ignore, which is what I did with Depeche Mode. Ironically enough, I couldn’t ignore Depeche mode and a tune which resonated in my head. The kind of tune which drives you crazy and you desperately want to find out who created it, so you can listen to it until your appetite is satiated. I don’t remember how I came across it either, I believe I might have run across the tune on youtube.

After a few days of habitually searching the internet for answers, I found the song was titled “Policy of truth.” The melody was haunting, maybe heard it as a young child? This song single handedly changed my view of Depeche mode, from the prominent synth chorus, with its gain and fade; to the chorus “On deciding in your youth, on the Policy of Truth.” The shadowing effect it had one me, whatever it was, made me a different person. After that, I listened to the Greatest Hits over, and over, and over, and over.

Martyr delivered the final blow to my conscious thought. I looked for the video, and found it. The video for Martyr caught me because I saw different dimensions of the band, and the metamorphosis of Depeche, who I now assumed had been in the game of making music for quite a robust amount of time. I craved information about the visuals, where each clip came from, who filmed it. Over the course of two weeks (while listening to Depeche mode perpetually) I soaked up everything about them.
Starting with the lead singer, Dave Gahan, who is devilishly charismatic and made me wonder how I ever overlooked him. As with all lead vocalists, David is the obvious attraction, I was rather put off by it. I’m the kind of person that deduces reasoning. I’ve never been a fan of lead singers, mainly because I resent the fact I’d have to scramble over a dozen other screaming fan girls just to have a look. Not my cup of tea. I gave him a chance though, consistently browsing pictures, since for some reason, he piqued my interest. What I learned about him in one night, once again, shaped my perspective of the band as a whole.

According to Wikipedia, Dave Gahan was an ex-junkie, laying claim to the big H in the early nineties. This really had me wondering about the rep of the band. I came off it, copping out, claiming to myself that every lead vox has their brush with drugs. I admit, I did feel interested in the two minute death experience. I also wondered how his addiction affected his performance.

The Songs of Faith and Devotion tour, more aptly dubbed “Devotional” blew my mind. Quite the contrary of what I had expected. Believe me, I have seen quite a few performances, live and recorded; each performance to me, lackluster. Devotional changed my perspective on live concerts as well. Each song had its own life, its own story to tell. If it is true that all songs have a voice which speaks to us, I’d have to say; almost every song in Devotional is well articulated. Not to mention Dave Gahan’s heroin-induced performance in it was nothing short of crazy awesome.
Martin Gore…Martin Gore really threw me off because of his hair, which fans refer to as “The Floof”. I had assumed he hit his heyday in the mid 80’s and was never able to pull himself out of the era. But with a little bit of digging around on Wikipedia, I found out that he is of mixed ethnicity. So he couldn’t help his gigantic mass of blond hair. Which I thought was supremely respectable, considering it was natural and there is little you can do about genetics.

Aside from the Floof, I also discovered he was the primary songwriter from 1982 to 2006. Just two years shy of being the signature songwriter. Why not two more years? Because when Vince Clarke was part of the band for two years (that’s right, two) he commanded the songwriting reigns. This really got my attention. At first glance, I didn’t think Martin was capable of being so expressive. I scrambled to see if he had written all the songs of which I thoroughly enjoyed. He wrote every single one of them…I felt as though I had an epiphany. Each one of the songs from Depeche Mode was in stark contrast to the other. Was it possible to be so thorough about your feelings?

Andrew “Fletch” Fletcher, the enigma of the group. I assumed he had a key role in the making of the music, until I found out later it was Alan Wilder who was responsible for the programming of the music. It turns out, most fans of Depeche Mode have almost no idea what exactly Fletch does for the group. A lot of controversy surrounds this. I chose not to tempt fate and assume anything. He claims to manage the group and I believe it. Over time I discovered that indeed Fletch does take part in Depeche mode as a whole, just not the in the ways most expect. I believe any well-formed group needs an enigma like Fletch.

Alan Charles Wilder was a key musician in Depeche mode from 1982 to 1996, when he removed himself gracefully from the band due to an onslaught of turmoil both within the band, and with Dave Gahan’s fast and loose lifestyle. 1996 is the period I elaborate as the time when the “shit hit the fan” for Depeche mode. Many fans still call out for Wilder to return, but over the years the shouts have resided. Simply put, Alan is a professional musician, he is brilliant, should be respected for his art, and he is probably never returning to Depeche mode.

With all the information I have absorbed in the past three months, I have only been able to give you a small glance into the world that is Depeche mode. I am still finding out information I didn’t know about them. Many people are put off by my dedication to this band, but trust me when I say Depeche Mode is worth a listen.
What’s probably the most intensely amazing thing about this band is the connection with their fans. It’s none I have ever seen before. There are those who are obsessed with their favorite band, and then there are those who casually listen and enjoy it like the snobby bastards they think they are. I’ve never attended a Depeche mode concert, but when I talk to fans who experienced Depeche live, they claim it is unparalleled to any other performance they have seen.

I sit back as a true observer and state as an outsider, what I see between Depeche Mode and their fans is a basic understanding of the pain, suffering, happiness, melancholy, euphoria, and love each one of us as humans experience. Depeche mode are not gods; they do not live severely over dramatic lives; they do not resent their fans. Rather, they embrace fans with a welcome smile. They carry the reminder that they are human beings as we all are. They have their bad days, they have their good days. Just like we do, as Martin wrote and Dave Gahan sang “I’m a man of flesh and bone.”

So you ask, “Who is Depeche Mode?’ They are merely a culmination of our feelings and suffering, written on paper, put to music, and sung back to us to remind us of who we are and how we are all connected. Whether you decide to pay attention to that feeling inside of you or not, is entirely up to you. But take it from someone who has consistently put off this band for almost ten years, Carpe Depeche.

A New Title

2011-01-15T01:02:00.000-08:00

A Priori Inevitability needs help, she doesn't have an effective title. The title stands for everything in the blog, and I must have come up with her title when I was high because I researched my title a little more thoroughly, and to be honest, I was confused and somewhat upset that my secondary blog title has two adjectives with no subject. Lord help me! I'll be effectively updating my title tonight.

Other than that, I've been under a deluge of conspiracy theories. I'm not a conspiracy theorist myself, but I am a little wary of one of the most recent theories which has come to light; Pop star mass manipulation. Now I can't deny this for a few reasons, it was always unsettling that I was never able to understand Lady Gagas reason behind choosing the look and feel of her videos, as well as why her songs are hypnotic despite the fact that they lack any kind of lyrical creativity. I can honestly say it makes a lot of sense when someone says she's being controlled by someone else.

Through much analysis, I find the same idea that has haunted me and George Carlin (and many others), for years. We're getting herded by the system, the flock will be brought into a pen with no escape, those who refuse to follow, will be killed. The bible, history, and my mother predicted it. Where does music fit in? Titillating hypnosis of course. A diversion from truth, in almost every sense of the word. I'm not saying all types, but the songs that are hammered in your head from pop radio certainly are perfect examples. Money, Sex, Products, and Pain are primary subjects addressed in lyrics

I'm an Adventist, or to be open and frank, I believe in God: The Almighty One. I also believe there will be a time soon in which all of us will be faced with a decision of choosing to side with free worship or the NWO. I rely heavily on the ideas brought forth by 1984, Fahrenheit 451, Brave New World and many others. I choose to die for my beliefs for the one God who speaks to all of us, I stand for the respect of my fellow man, and I would sacrifice my life for these ideas.

Music is my blood, and I find a way to worship Him through listening to music. But music can be a medium for destruction of your spiritual facilities, or what saves you in the end, it is up to you how you choose to use it. I'm not telling anyone to listen to christian pop, I'm telling you to listen to music that draws you closer with God. Songs that praise him are just as good, if not better. I find myself listening to music that is non-religious in general, but I glean what I can from it.

So keep your mind and ears open if you seek a closer walk with Him. Never dim the light of hope in your heart, and if possible, try not to idolize your favorite stars.

Daft Punk: Musique-6:53

So Much for Old News.

2011-01-12T20:55:00.000-08:00

Such a beautiful thing. This happened four years ago and I still fantasize about what it would have been like; under the glow of the pyramid, illuminated as never before, with my blood racing through every individual vein, time running so fast but moving so slow in my memory.
<3 you Daft Punk, please don't be part of the medium brainwashing plot.

BootLeg

2011-01-12T17:14:00.001-08:00

BootLeg, originally uploaded by Σ (Sigma).

That camera was dicking around with me.

Now I wanna be your God-I mean Dog.

2011-01-11T04:16:00.000-08:00

Archigram - Doggystyle

Dive

2011-01-11T03:12:00.001-08:00

, originally uploaded by Σ (Sigma).

Found Out

2011-01-11T02:45:00.001-08:00

, originally uploaded by Σ (Sigma).

Out into night.

2010-07-12T12:10:00.000-07:00

There was once a time when I had so much faith in what had to be done, to make my life the greatest possible. With every day and every lethargic mistake, I feel myself drifting from that goal. Was it because I didn't take it serious, or because my station and position in life demands a low success rate? We can't be bothered in this day and age to create something for ourselves, we feed our creativity and attention to the hungry sharks of anticipation in something better, ever being able to see what we actually gave away.

All my dreams are dying, I know my entire life is just one great song I'm waiting to sing, but is it my fault I haven't begun to sing it yet? Will I sit cautiously twiddling my thumbs, waiting for a godly experience to awaken my eyes, or will I be waiting forever, just to let it drift off into the night. I have lost almost every possible conviction and the fire is not burning as bright. I need time alone.

Frank words.

2010-04-04T23:46:00.001-07:00

Mumblings, Maybe, Mischief.
Music speaks for me, for I cannot speak for myself. I travel towards personal greatness which must be transformed into recognized greatness, and eventual exceptional greatness. I lower my standards of living but never give up the right to.
No matter what. I stay alive for the sheer privilege of it. Every day I forget to breathe, and then I remember how wonderful it feels to when I finally do inhale.

What am I caught in? I must force myself to be creative because I know I need to be. When did I get into this sticky situation?
Being my lifeblood, I must draw it up from the well. But I always thought those who were blessed with creativity had it gush forth from them like a wellspring of dreams. A totalitarian force, something they can not help. This question has yet to be answered. Not answered, but assured in the blueprint of my head so I may paddle forward.

Questioning my being opens up a door from which I can never return to. I began asking these questions long ago. Every door I open to myself leads me farther a long. What remains in my head is determined on how much pressure is placed on said topic. A topic I'd love to briefly go over is: LOVE. I've learned much in these past three months. I've learned the slow slide of his hand, the way he walked as if a giant stick were up his ass, the want and need of his body, that penetrating feeling. I built myself a foundation of love which turned to lust, and I wound up treading water. Maintaining a sense of life by completely ignoring the sadness of loss. I left before the pain became unbearable. I slowly became simpatico to my feelings and was able to ask questions. I'm tired. I post later.

Eating Myself Alive

2009-11-21T09:30:00.000-08:00

First, I'll shove my foot in, and then perhaps cut off my nose.
I've decided my life, and yet, I run *smack* into my own worst fear. Not measuring up to greatness, loss of inspiration, doubtfulness of my talents. I'm terrified the road I may find may not be a road I can walk. Where do these fears come from? Did I make these fears up in my mind; do they have a background in my past? Somehow I've convinced myself these fears are real, and that I'll hide in doubt my entire life. No wonder I sink into depression. I'm terrified of what's to come next. Now that I've thought about it, the discipline is intimidating.
It's fucking scary, thinking about all these fears I'm going to have to face, not being able to trust myself to deal with them. These are my greatest stumbling blocks. I need to prove to myself how imperative it is to know the depths of myself and to translate it for others to be inspired, I am simply a vehicle for which others must know the greatness of life itself and all the wonderful facets yet to be discovered.

For the videos

2009-11-19T10:11:00.000-08:00

Sunshine/Help I'm alive-Metric
Adolescence apocalypse/death is the road to awe-Kronos quartet

Every Octave

2009-10-28T00:40:00.000-07:00

brings me closer to a greater understanding.
I'm living underneath my potential, above my yearly expectations, and beyond my means. My GNP is $5.00 on net averages.
I crave witty, grimy, envious words. I wish I was as big a smart ass as the people I respect, and admire.

2009-05-26T21:57:00.000-07:00

The year transform into decades, into quarter centuries, to half-centuries, to three-quarter centuries, and finally to centuries.
What will become of us?
The underlying superficiality of our lives is a safety net unto which we build this false sense of security and partial ignorance.
We can talk about centuries past and the progression of life and change because we create this bubble for which we are ignorant of the progression of change in our own lives. When was the last time you felt your past? How far you have come and how you are a thread in the infinite web of life. These things never occur to us.

Guess we're human after all

Human after all (Justice Mix)-3:55

Beyond obliterated oblivion

2009-04-28T00:18:00.000-07:00

By equal measures, we are all responsible. It's how we choose to manipulate that responsibility that causes confusion and misdirection.

An Honest Mistake

2009-03-07T14:17:00.001-08:00

I keep forgetting who I am. I've come way out of my shell and I'm starting to regret it.

I am barely maintaining a relationship with a young man, a pisces. I'm not sure how much longer I want to retain it. He is everything I'm not accustomed to, and I abhor that fact that he lacks the willpower to care about the way he looks.
A long time ago I was told women look for five things in men; "the five S's", this being "Smell, Shoes, Sense of Humor, Style, and Smile". I'm starting to learn how much of a fact this is. He listens to country and christian, and as much as he embraces my musical tastes, I'm afraid I cannot reciprocate. He has inane habits, and he dresses like he just came from a NASCAR race or off a farm.
I thought I could make it work and the only thing keeping me from dumping him is my friend Kelly. We all moved in together, under the same roof. I have my own room and I intend to keep it that way.
I started realizing how much I really don't want this relationship last night; when I dreamt of Kelly's boyfriend, taurus, having sex with me. Not just the in/out-in/out kind of sex. The sweaty, full-bodied, guaranteed girl orgasm kind of sex. Something Pisces and I didn't really have after the first night. Me still being a virgin, I can embrace the single life a lot easier than most. Though I find myself clinging to lost hopes of being with the taurus in the near future. Considering we're all under the same roof.

A few days ago I had a pregnancy scare (keeping in mind I'm a virgin). The utter insanity of the situation made me push the pisces away even farther. He wants a boy named after him. This "first-born son" shit is beyond me. I never understood why men feel the need to replicate themselves precisely on their boys. What if his "first-born son" turns out to be gay, or a girl. How will he deal? I can embrace a gay son or a girl much better than I can embrace the "first-born son" stereotype. Makes me sick just thinking about it.

Another thing that drives me batty is that he takes my shit without giving any back. He takes it all, the nity-picky personality, the silent treatment, and the emasculating. I don't understand it.

More Later...

-Σ

Out for blood.

2009-02-20T12:41:00.000-08:00

I don't care if you read my blog, I do this for myself.

I am so self-centered that I love looking at my old blog posts; so suck it snubster.com.

That's all I wanted to say.

Whales and Waterfalls.

2009-02-01T11:30:00.000-08:00

What do you get when you mix the two?

That's beside the point.
I feel like I'm battling for my soul every day. When I was younger, I used to contemplate what was right and wrong, because what everyone proclaimed to be right, always felt wrong to me; or perhaps it was because I was young and craved irony. But now the subject has come up again and I don't know what to do about it.

I've spent weeks wandering around in my head and around the countryside. I've moved, I could say about three time in about four weeks. I can't decide what I want to do, and what I need to do. I'm not indecisive, I'm just taking a really long time weighing my options. I'm getting a firm tongue-lashing for it too.

On a higher note, I've been saturating my subconscious with electronica. Every day it's either Kraftwerk, Depeche Mode (I know it's synth but they're all part of the same carpool), and Daft Punk. More often than not, it's Kraftwerk that fills my head.

More later

Kraftwerk:Man/Machine-4:50

Let Go.

2008-12-08T15:48:00.000-08:00

Time has moved by so fast. But the faster time runs along, the farther I see my dreams get away. I want things in life, simple things, and that's all. Why does it seem like the only person standing in my way of what I want is me? I'd love to blame everyone for my lack of extertion, but the truth of the matter is that I'm just too lazy. When will my desire to have what I want, override my primary cynicism of having all the time in the world. Goddammit.

I've been in and out, and I guess it's what the song says. We spend our whole lives waiting for something. Waiting for the bus, waiting for our break. Is there anything I could possibly do to make my waiting a bit more entertaining?
I wait for a CD. I wait for money. I wait for an HP Laptop. I have to wait to register it.

This is ridiculous.

What's going on?
Thanksgiving was slow but fun. I didn't eat everything on my plate, and it was only one plate. I watched twilight with my sister-in-law and the only thing I got out of it was that Robert Pattinson is really fucking hot. Even more hot than he was as Cedrick Diggory in Harry Potter. The sly bastard. But then I was inundated with hot guys in P.S. I love you. Life is cruel and morbid.

Hearts on Fire-cut//Copy-4:52

Mirage.

2008-11-25T11:24:00.000-08:00

Have a Listen.

In Bright Colors.

2008-11-06T15:42:00.000-08:00

Over the course of the past two weeks, I've challenged the way I thought about music and life (those two are most important). I also have to come to expect a certain amount of decorum from myself, which is aptly left behind when I consume alcohol. Which has been frequently recently.

I've been asked out on a date by a thirty-three year old man. I accepted this rendezvous on the simple fact that it's something new to discover, and also that I find him entertaining.

More news later. Tonight is ART WALK!

Wrecked Metal and Humanitarianism

2008-10-21T11:40:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Zeigeist for beind an awesome band.

So filled with everything but glee.

2008-10-19T21:51:00.000-07:00

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch

I can hear myself before I even do it.
No matter.
I've spent a lot of time over the past few weeks reflecting on how I interact with others and I've come to the conclusion that I need a lot of alone time. A LOT.
I listen to myself talk to other people and I sound very condescending and practical. Not a good combination because that means I burst other people's bubbles. Which is probably the reason a good amount of people don't hang out with me. This doesn't bother me, surprisingly. I don't like being around a lot of people when I'm not drunk, because I'm aware of what's going on and I tense up.
I'm an introvert. I found this out years after the fact, even though there are some people out there who make me feel like an extrovert.

blah

Around the World/Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger; Alive 2007; Daft Punk

Shirts and Gloves

2008-10-05T03:01:00.000-07:00

When I'm back from the road
and you're out on it
And I'm tired of this distance
And I believe it's over, it's over-rated.
And this phone tag game is endless
the novelty is wearing
I'm hoping time will pass
without any assistance
or convincing.

Road rules apply
there's so much action,
you're getting busy.
So I'll call your cellular phone
to tell you TV night was
lonely without you
and so am I...
so am I.

It seems our day keeps falling on a leap year.

So many high points on this last leg.
I can't wait to recount them
it seems like nothing's happened
until I've shared them with you.
And the note that you had called
says you're half a day away
and you are heading home
just in time for me, for me to leave.

Road rules apply
there's so much action
I'm getting busy.
So make sure that I'm up to date
on TV night,
I hate to miss out.

I think I miss you most
on Wednesdays
and Saturdays.

It seems our day keeps falling on a leap year.
-Dashboard Confessional

I love you mom.

Condemned.

2008-09-24T10:04:00.000-07:00

I am irate. I have so much anger inside me that I don't know what to do with. For so many reasons. Things that have built up over time, the humiliation of standing before a judge, denouncing my character and giving the impression I am worthless. It took a lot of courage out of me as I admitted how absent-minded I am. How hopeless I was, and how I can't even get a job. I am now taking the beating for everything I ever did to anyone else. I am becoming my own person. I'd love to blame many people; most of it on a friend, who, as I was attending court, was having sex with a police officer. I'm not sure what angers me more, the fact that she refused to take responsibility for her car in court, or that she only refused because she had a booty call. But, considering the circumstances and how it was indeed my accident. I shouldn't put all my anger on her, even though I'd love to.
The truth of the matter is that this is a lesson for me. How to take responsibility for my actions, and therefore mold myself into an individual. Everytime I mull things over, the person I am most angry with, is myself. For the fact that my entire life, I have been doing what other people tell me to do, and never asserting who I am. This is indeed the real rub. Yet for all the advice given to me before my court date, nothing really prepared me for what I did experience, and in a way, it helped me understand the difference between what is heard and what is done, and what I could do.
I've prided myself on my ability to maintain a collected face in the presence of adversity and established power, as if I am me, and they are not. I take every jab I get on the chin with a cool poise and dignity. I can smile for at least this.

I love life.

With garbled intentions...

2008-09-22T16:24:00.000-07:00

Life is troubling, and always has been. Whether or not I'm reminded constantly in my head, my body aches with disillusion. As for now, they both are realizing how troubled I've been over the past few months. I'm at a standstill, locked in a desperate fight with my sanity. I lay, lethargically, waiting for my destiny to take me. I hate being in this state.
I looked over my ex-boyfriend's profile, guided by mere curiosity, and I came to the conclusion that being here is no small task and I need to refresh my sense of adventure. I think I might move. I'm not running away from my problems, just getting a clean look at them.
Fall is a special time for me, it always reminds me of conclusions, I'm never sure why either. I need to relax somewhere away from where I have been. I wish I could get away.

Policy of truth-Depeche mode
You had something to hide
Should have hidden it, shouldnt you
Now youre not satisfied
With what youre being put through

Its just time to pay the price
For not listening to advice
And deciding in your youth
On the policy of truth

Things could be so different now
It used to be so civilised
You will always wonder how
It could have been if youd only lied

Its too late to change events
Its time to face the consequence
For delivering the proof
In the policy of truth

Never again
Is what you swore
The time before
Never again
Is what you swore
The time before

Now youre standing there tongue tied
Youd better learn your lesson well
Hide what you have to hide
And tell what you have to tell

Youll see your problems multiplied
If you continually decide
To faithfully pursue
The policy of truth

Never again
Is what you swore
The time before
Never again
Is what you swore
The time before

Out in the open.

2008-09-11T10:36:00.000-07:00

Why?
DAMMIT WHY?
You know, things used to be a lot simpler when I was younger. I made decisions without fear of making the wrong one. Now I tread lightly over coals.
I'm moving in a week.
I have never lived in one home for more than one year. In my entire life.
I want to be able to live in my own room for one damn year.
I'm bitching. Nevermind.
The point is, the only way I managed to keep a sane handle on things is that I remind myself what was once good. And what I love, and what I need. In many ways, I still enjoy my life like a child should, perhpas that is why I am looked down upon by many others.
'tis life.

Something heavy to linger upon.

2008-07-26T11:29:00.000-07:00

My contribution to this world is very minimal, yet I feel a strange connection to it, ever present, denoting a sense of need and tenacity.
I miss laying on the floor with papers strewn around me, a cigarette in my left hand, and a pen in my other.
I envisioned myself being this; feeling creativity flooding my soul. Thoughts I cannot even begin to label. In the corner of my room, a drafting desk with my latest project beginning to form, and a laptop next to me, filled with endless stacks of prototypes and work completions. I enjoy the idea of being a self-contained unit, festering with ideas and inspiration to pass onto others.
I would own a storehouse with a multitude of old projects and personal pictures, waiting for me to bust them out and laugh and cry over them.
This is all I need. All I ever wanted in the world, freedom, respect, and a sense of self. I can do that much. Can I not?
I can't forget the milk Chai, sitting on a corner table. This dream could go on forever...

Recoil:Drifting-5:16

A few principles.

2008-06-19T14:30:00.000-07:00

-Open your mind as much as possible.
-Keep as many of your old CDs as possible, despite the resale value.
-Always strive to understand yourself better.
-Any concept is possible.
-Don't base every decision on the physical realities of life.
-Every five minutes; stop, take a deep breath.
-Religion and science are not fact, don't take them to be.
-Every person has a good side, it just depends on the situation at hand.
-Never forget who you are.
-Artists visually interpret what they see.
-No one deserves pain we give them, it is not our place to judge.
-Words only say so much, the rest is spoken with our hearts.

Walking in My Shoes

2008-05-20T16:36:00.000-07:00

I would tell you about the things they put me through
The pain I've been subjected to
But the Lord himself would blush
The countless feasts laid at my feet
Forbidden fruits for me to eat
But I think your pulse would start to rush

Now I'm not looking for absolution
Forgiveness for the things I do
But before you come to any conclusions
Try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes

You'll stumble in my footsteps
Keep the same appointments I kept
If you try walking in my shoes
If you try walking in my shoes

Morality would frown upon
Decency look down upon
The scapegoat fate's made of me
But I promise now, my judge and jurors
My intentions couldn't have been purer
My case is easy to see

I'm not looking for a clearer conscience
Peace of mind after what I've been through
And before we talk of any repentance
Try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes

You'll stumble in my footsteps
Keep the same appointments I kept
If you try walking in my shoes
If you try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes

Now I'm not looking for absolution
Forgiveness for the things I do
But before you come to any conclusions
Try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes

You'll stumble in my footsteps
Keep the same appointments I kept
If you try walking in my shoes
You'll stumble in my footsteps
Keep the same appointments I kept
If you try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes
If you try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes
-Depeche Mode->Songs of Faith and Devotion/1993

Side Note: I never understood all the lyrics until I actually looked them up on depechemodedotcom.

Funny, it makes a lot of sense to me.

I feel like a piece of shit. Enough said.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

2008-05-19T13:16:00.000-07:00

Open the window and out go ideals...Wo-whoah

I believe I am ready, perhaps not. My reluctance for the betterment of my life is another way for me escape. HELL I DON'T KNOW!

I'm just scared of typing a resume, even though I have a lot to say. A resume is an opportunity to tell employers how awesome you are, but I felt my work spoke for itself. I'm just a little bit stressed.

I was considering a job working for the kc globe, it's a way to launch myself with the knowledge necessary to continue working for magazines, OR I could always apply to KC star or another magazine, perhaps the pitch. Either way, publishing is something I can work in and split my photography to the side.

I'm blabbing, there isn't much else to write on concepts because I've been too busy fretting over a damn job. I need it.

I had to drive home drunk for the first time ever. It was exciting. I'll never do it again.

Cultivated

2008-05-15T10:43:00.000-07:00

What is a cultured person?

The stereoptype of pretentiousness which surrounds them belies their true nature. I resent both the stereotype and those who misrepresent by claiming they "know it all".

You don't have to be rich, just open-minded. Looking at life in its true form, a prism, from which there are many angles. Without this curiosity, we lack the very motivation to be humans. Look at history which has given us many examples of, in one word, discovery. Without curiosity and a zeal for life in its purest form, there would be no discovery.

When evidence concludes, where do you begin? Look at a simple object and then twist your head.

Life is what you make it, culminated by your own values, whatever they may be.

A culture person has a true love of life, and an understanding understanding of everyone in it, without judgement.

Free-thinker is not a title, it's a state of mind.

Go ask Alice, when she's ten feet tall.

2008-05-08T15:29:00.000-07:00

Drugs are not becoming of me.
Never have been.
I admit my curiosity has overwhelmed my natural distaste for their stigma. So they remain somewhat slighted in the background of my consciousness.

Good reason prevails yet again; though I am resilient to it, perhaps it is my rebellious nature.

We all must discover our own means to life, right?

In my own mannerisms, I declare myself to be somewhat of a hippie in an unconventional sense. Yet, you must understand where I draw the line.

I consider myself a toxic youth. One whose values violently disagree with society's standards.
I perhaps, and influenced by my understanding of mu sun sign, Leo.

I am not attempting to believe in the unestablished power of the zodiac.
That, to me, would be in bad form.

I'd like to think of it merely as an archetype of my personality. Creating a necessary harmony with the other archetypes.

I stray, Drugs are indeed, bad. As many proclaim. But what a lot of people overlook is why they are bad.

Which is what I intend to discover.-

Self Control-3:38-Infernal

A comfort I'm used to.

2008-05-07T14:30:00.000-07:00

I have a terrible time putting the pieces of my thoughts together.
I sat up last night until two, trying to figure out how to articulate my feelings.
More specifically the ones I feel when I look at the sky. The sense of wholeness I feel, and yet, insignificant.

It is a wonderful feeling.

I do not feel whole now; more, I feel useless at this particular point.
What I neglected to understand in my transfer from one setting to the next, is the absolute responsibility, as I neglect most every time I move.
I crave the euphoria I felt at one time; the simplicity of my day-to-day living.
I now have over-simplified myself and lie listlessly in wait for the next opportunity to strike me.

On the side of good news I have discovered Anton Corbjin and Annie Liebovtiz, both, had their groundings in freelance photography. Wikipedia does not address whether they went to college, but something tells me publishers did not need those type of credentials.

Photography has become part of my life. In frustration I worked, to perfect my pieces so that they would somehow bring me clarity. I loved my time in the darkroom. If I could return to those days of night, I would. In a heartbeat.

I know what I want to do now, it took me dropping out of college to figure it out. I plan to make my mark on an apparently unscathed society.

Martyr-3:21-Depeche mode

Antipathical Apocalypse

2008-05-05T17:06:00.000-07:00

We all seem to be with nature, even though it seems we are for it.
Nature will bite us in the ass.

It always has, always will.

One brief point I would like to address in this blog.
One by one, we will be plucked away in the apocalypse, until there are only a few left.
By what you say?

Oh, locusts, floods, waters turned into blood, famine, boils, livestock dying.

You think you have it bad. No way.

I can't type long. Hopefully next blog will cover some more detail.

Role Model

2008-04-28T19:56:00.000-07:00

Ever since the princesses of pop came along, I have had a sour taste in my mouth. I turn a blind eye to their over dramatic lives and live mine without the slightest intention of idolizing them.
Miley Cyrus is just another one I for see heading down the road to slutsville (in my opinion).

Now, before you go running off to say Miley Cyrus is a slut and posed "topless" for Vanity Fair. I want you to take a really good look at this picture and tell me Annie Liebovitz is not an artist.

This picture is beautiful. Every picture I see by Annie is gorgeous. Annie has the uncanny ability to connect with every single one of her subjects and you can see them for their true selves.

When I look at this picture, I see a beautiful young girl who is still very confused about the world in general, but has a strength to her spirit. She is consistently pushed and is tired.

What do you see?

Apparently, when the picture was featured in Vanity Fair, Miley did a double-take and said "I took part in a photo shoot that was supposed to be 'artistic' and now, seeing the photographs and reading the story, I feel so embarrassed."
Why?

Yes, Annie Liebovitz is gay, and yes, according to an article on gawker, they claim that Annie was "grooming" Cyrus. I doubt that very highly.
Take a look for yourself.

Of course, Annie responded like a mother to a fussy child. Consider my opinion biased because I respect Annie. Annie is a world-class photographer with a huge repertoire under her belt.

I'm gonna side with Annie in agreeing, this is a lovely picture of Miley.

She needn't be frightened to express her true feelings.
I think it was a bold move of Miley, and I think if she stuck to it and expressed her true beauty, it wouldn't be "slutty".

Besides, Cyrus is fifteen, and still isn't sure of what she wants. Don't put too much drama on her whims.

Remember, art creates scandal.

Behind the Wheel-5:18-Depeche mode

The Promise

2008-04-28T15:22:00.001-07:00

I made a promise to a friend.

I intend to keep that promise until the time comes.
I am going to house his child.

He's a homosexual and obviously incapable of reproducing. I felt flattered when he asked me, of all people, to do this for him.
I dislike children, and in particular, babies. Mainly due to the responsibility I am expected to give to a child.
Perhaps it's because I fear the influence I might have upon then; since my morals are what I consider, questionable.
But I care very much for my friend, and I would do this because I don't have to handle the parenting. I have a free meal ticket until I give birth to the child.
He wants to be a father and he reassures me he will be a good one. I have no doubt of that. I am not readily willing to give birth to my own child, but as long as it has a good home, is being disciplined to keep and open mind, and is loved. I am okay, since I know I cannot do that for them.

We have it all planned out. I get to name it, he wants it to be a boy. I don't really care. I get to play Depeche mode, Bjork, and Enigma while its in the womb; which is probably the most exciting thing for me. I get to lay around like a fat cow and be bitchy and my friend will get me any type of food I crave.

It's almost like a marriage, except I don't have to have all the bullshit congruent with it.
I am not looking to have any other kids in my life. If I give birth to one, I can visit every so often and spoil it.
Totally awesome for me. I'll be twenty-six or twenty-seven when this happens so it's about five years away.

Sweet monkeys.

Private Psychedelic Reel-9:07-The Chemical Brothers

Colorful Representations

2008-04-27T14:35:00.000-07:00

I love the internet. You find the most inspiring, bizarre shit.

My source for these insane things is The Generator blog.

I even had my pseudonym translated to nightingale! :)
Click here for a listen to Sigma.

Here is the website for your personal delight.

Here is a .wav file I found on my geocities account, it's me singing the duet "Phantom of the Opera" in high speed. Pretty funny, and its something to do on this lovely Sunday afternoon.

Phantom of the Opera.

Define yourself

2008-04-26T18:43:00.000-07:00

This isn't necessarily an exercise, more of a reflection.

I define myself by the music I listen to, I define others by the music they listen to.

I find the predominant amount of music I enjoy now has a footing in synth, and an electronic backing. It wasn't always like this.

I listened to Garth Brooks, Hal Ketchum, and Toby Keith, alongside Bob Dylan, Harry Chapin, and a few blues artists.
I was predominantly folk and country. I now despise country, and folk I listen to on very slight occasions. Why? Here's why...

It all had to do with Enigma.

Somewhere around the time my brother was wearing flannel and listening to Alice in Chains, I listened to Hymns, and bible stories on tape.

He listened to Enigma because they were pretty popular, especially with Sadness II and he encouraged my parents to enjoy them too.

A few years later when I was twelve, my father had compiled a massive music library (thanks to Napster). He started with music I enjoyed, and over the years, as the music library became bigger, he started expanding my taste.

I begged for my own computer and I was able to connect with his network to surf the web (back in late 90's, early 00's). It was Dial-up, but it was awesome. I watched literally thousands of Anime music videos. One had a song which immediately touched me, Gravity of Love by Enigma. I think I loved the song so much, I choreographed my 8th grade final dance around it.

What hit me about this particular song was the thick reverberation of the bass and the layering of the sound, it was nothing like what I had heard before. I might have not been able to explain this to you at that age, but the mere heavenly sound of choir and the beats of the drum sent my imagination expounding fantastical worlds.

Many people describe Enigma as "New Age". I'd like to think Enigma is better than that. Michael Cretu explains that he tries with every album, to take you to a new world. I own them all. He's right, I go into a different world with each album.

From there, it was Bjork and so forth.

I love Bjork for one simple fact. She taught me to accept who I am and not be ashamed of. People judge her constantly for her eccentricities, she is not ashamed.

Neither should I be.

She also is the composer of my favorite song of all time (no lie!) All is Full of Love (both versions).

This music defines who I am as a person to a "T". Their music inspired me to be a more open-minded person, not without tribulations, mind you.

Depeche Mode is also here because of my undying need to feel I am not alone in my suffering. They are my heart, my needs. Their music never sickens me.
Mode has been through much, and I have been through much with Mode. Ten years it took me to love and understand this band.

On a different note, I want to clear up a misunderstanding. It seems most people think Electronica and synth-pop sound emotionless. This is entirely false.

Techno is mindless drivel. I should know, I listened to it for five years. There is a difference.

Most of the music I enjoy is the kind of music you have to close your eyes and open your mind to. I was very reluctant of this music once, the reluctance is gone.

Seek no satisfaction in your music. Don't settle for second-best, or what you hear on a commercial. Constantly ask yourself, "Do I really like this?"

I'm not saying you are going to like what I like, but think about the music you listen to and ask yourself if this defines you as an intelligent being.

Nothing in your head is for sure.

Modern Crusaders-3:53-Enigma

इ वास वेटिंग ओं अ मोमेंट.

2008-04-26T17:52:00.000-07:00

I must have been dreaming...

I love the sky. Call me my father, but life is precious.
How many skies do you miss out on in your life?

I enjoy a good Saturday.

2008-04-26T12:23:00.001-07:00

"The only thing that endures is Change"-Heroclitus

How true that is.
It's evidently been awhile, and though I feel I have a lot to say. I have about three active blogs in which to say them.
I'd like to use this blog to do my writing. I have to break loose from the myspace blogs. They drive me crazy, but it seems to be where all my views take place.
Official blog spaces have fewer views.

All things considered I am thinking of going into freelance writing and photography, to reach the goal of touring with musicians and getting the real scoop. The excitement of it all.
OH!

School is almost over for me, and I am becoming a college drop-out. I know, a lot of people have been saying, "Are you sure you know what you're doing." To be honest, No, I'm not sure, I was never really sure either. I just kind of take what life has given me and make something halfway decent out of it. If I am not set to do what I plan on doing, the greater force will lead me to the right path.

I don't feel lost, only mildly confused and excited.

More most likely later today, I write when the mood strikes.

Only when I lose myself (remixed single)-4:58-Depeche Mode

Snippets of the Morose

2007-12-22T17:23:00.000-08:00

I can sometimes be ill-mannered. The only thing that perpetuates in my life, is the ability to write. Everything else has me in a terribly sullen mood, I react with apathy, or the cold shoulder. I write when the mood strikes me, or when Interpol is playing. I jump from one topic to the next, and then back again when I feel like it. I don't feel like writing much more. Perhaps because it will be a horrid rant and I'm not really ready for that.