Damien Rice on a Monday Night

I know, I know, same music twice... but Damien Rice is amazing. This music is like being in love...

Keep commenting. I like comments.

And those of you with blogs, blog! It's a participatory sport! Unless you blog vicariously through my comment section, in which case comment!

Psych is actually looking like a fun class. Unlike my other three. So I think I'm keeping it. Brophy's actually pretty funny and the class makes me feel smart.

The figurative ground has shifted under my figurative feet... so many people are non-figuratively gone and I feel really strange. This quarter is already so different than the last. For one thing, there's lunch.

Lunch aside, though, I feel like a different person. My schedule bears no resemblance to last quarter, none of my friends from last quarter hang out much anymore, or will be anyway, I've made some new friends in places that surprised me, albeit pleasantly.

Maybe it's working out for real (finally), maybe it's actually feeling smart in psychology, maybe it's the low-budget Hong Kong action film on Valium that my life has become, and maybe it was a particular event that may very well have been a dream, but I feel very much like I've been given a chance to change... and I need it.

I've decided that last year was about a thousand years ago.

I have so much good music... ahh.... cuz blue eyes... I love that song, and I love blue eyes... and brown eyes... and green eyes... but not red eyes.

I've realized that song lyrics are a lot better when they're actually set to the music they were written with. But I'm still putting them in.

I really hope this quarter is better than the last... my schedule is really confusing so I'm going to put it up all over the place.

I wish that dating was simpler. I want to find this one girl who is just amazing in every way... but only to me. That way I don't have to play stupid games all the time. Just know, and be done with it and happy.

I'm listening to this song over and over and if you don't listen to it you're missing out.

Amie come sit on my wall
And read me the story of O
And tell it like you still believe
That the end of the century
Brings a change for you and me
Nothing unusual, nothing's changed
Just a little older that's all
You know when you've found it,
There's something I've learned
'Cause you feel it when they take it away

Something unusual, something strange
Comes from nothing at all
But I'm not a miracle
And you're not a saint
Just another soldier
On the road to nowhere

Damien Rice on a Sunday Evening

The usual person got me back into Damien Rice... it's pretty awesome stuff.

So break was long. Really long. But then it ended and there was much rejoicing.

I went home Thursday with the Eskimo and he stayed until Sunday. On Saturday we went and hung out with Adam for a while, and I acquired some new headphones that are, to say the least, the hotness.

Following Indy we went to a place in the geographic center of nowhere called Boggstown, IN. Boggstown would make a really great set for a horror movie. Despite the creepiness, though, we found the place we were headed towards to meet my extended family for dinner and a show, which turned out to be a large house with a sign that said "Cabaret". I expected chintz and low production value, but it turned out to be pretty good. It was a show consisting of songs from the first half of the 20th century, definitely aimed straight at the 65-to-80-year-old audience that comprised the majority of the crowd.
Despite it's clear bias towards the elderly, though, the show was fairly raunchy. It amuses me to no end that even the humor and entertainment that the elderly, who are supposed to be bastions of conservative thought, find amusing is essentially based on sex.

The rest of the week passed fairly uneventfully. I cooked a lot of meals, Jess came to visit, I played video games.

On Thursday we went to Goshen, IN for Thanksgiving. It was a little strange this year, but still nice.

I left Saturday for Rose, got here last night. After my dad left Elaine, Bob and I hung out for a good long while. The best times at this school happen during the most unlikely times, it seems like. With 3 people we had more fun than I've had at huge parties.

My grades turned out crappier than I expected, but at least I passed all my classes. Can't say the same for everyone... Rose is taking on a sort of Pickett's Charge feel lately. I'm going to talk to some of my professors, though, because I feel like I deserve a better grade in one or two of them.

Check out this blog. It's Zach Braff's (Scrubs, Garden State). I like it a lot.

This is a really great song and I can't get it out of my head, especially after last night.

Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
Still a little hard to say what's going on

Still a little bit of your ghost your witness
Still a little BIT of your face I haven't kissed
You step a little closer each day
Still I can't say what's going on

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannonball

Still a little bit of your song in my ear
Still a little bit of your words I long to hear
You step a little closer to me
So close that I can't see what's going on

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannon

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to cry
So come on courage!
Teach me to be shy
'Cause it's not hard to fall
And I don't wanna scare her
It's not hard to fall
And I don't wanna lose
It's not hard to grow
When you know that you just don't know

The Cary Brothers on a Tuesday Night

Half-Life 2 is unlocking... yay!

Tonight has been really nice. Hot chocolate and candy canes, people I love to be with... today is going in the mental log as a really nice day.

ConAps final was easy. Hooray.

40%...

Tomorrow no finals, which means I'll probly be playing HL2. I know, I'm a tool, but it's a good game. I don't see why playing video games is so much more toolish than watching movies.... it's the same thing, practically.

Goals for the week:
-Sleep
-Eat
-Pass Finals
-Don't Fall in Love with Anyone

Blue Eyes is my new favorite song.

Wish enough, wise man'll tell you a lie
Window broke, torn up screens
Who'd have thought that you'd dream
Of a single tragic scene

I just wanna sing a song with you
I just want to take it off of you

Cause Blue Eyes
You are all that I need
Cause Blue Eyes
You’re the sweet to my mean

Fess it up, dot on the palm of your hand
I can help you to stand
Saved it up for this dance
Tell me all the things you can

I just wanna sing a song with you
I just wanna be the one that's true

Cause Blue Eyes
You’re the secret I keep
Cause Blue Eyes

All the lights on and you are alive
But you can't point the way to your heart
So sublime, when the stars are aligned
But you don't know
You don't know the greatness you are

Cause Blue Eyes
You are destiny's scene
Cause Blue Eyes
I just wanna be the one

I just wanna sing a song with you
I just wanna get it on with you

Cause Blue Eyes
You’re the secret I keep
Cause Blue Eyes
I just wanna sing a song with you…

My Chemical Romance on a Thursday Night

I'm finishing that English paper I started earlier this week.

I have some really great friends here. Every day I'm reminded of it, and every day I'm a little ashamed of how much I take them for granted.

Optimism is great... if I just pretend like I can win at life, I can feel really good for a while. Who knows, maybe I'll even turn out to be right! Probably not, but chin up! The lottery has to pick someone and my ticket has odds just as good as anyone's.

I'm bloody burned out writing, so I'm done for the evening. More to come.

Read this to the end to find out what it really means. If you stop early you won't get it.

steps ascend to a loaded gun.
the scent of matches hangs in the air (a lit one flickers out in a hearbeat).
we don't want to see this: a flash of light that's letting go
of an empty bullet case, by the time it hits the ground, he's out of reach. let go. the wolves are closing in. there's no room left to make amends.
do you remember when we'd fly that kite so high? all the time we've wasted,
spent fighting, will burn in the fire of our regrets all the time we've wasted,
spent fighting, it's blood and it's running down the stairs.
freeze the frame between the gun shot and the hole it makes.
a spinning bullet waits in the middle. there's no way to stop it,
it will surely hit the mark. you can try to understand but I'm giving up.
the synapse fires, it's right in time. I'm giving up.
this should always stay out of reach I ran down the stairs and into the garden,
put both my hands into the soil. in the spring, you will bloom, like her heart, through the blouse, in the back of the ambulance,
as it turned and turned in the streets (just one more turn won't you come back to me) as it turned on its red lights,
you were turning into red roses but I'm not giving up.

The Strokes on a Wednesday Night

I don't have a whole lot to say today.

The quarter is coming to a close, which means break time. I dislike breaks, but this time I need it. I'm really, really tired. Not physically, I'm doing okay the past couple days on sleep. Mentally, though, I'm tired as can be... I need time to not think so hard. Emotionally... drained like a gangrenous goiter.

The campus has been amazingly beautiful all day today. At sunset the sun lit up the clouds with a light pink color, the lake reflected the sky, and "I looked up and saw the sky, and I realized what a ridiculous lie my whole life has been."

What is work? "To suffer fifty weeks a year for the sake of a two-week vacation." What is career? Realizing that "after all the highways, and the trains, and the years, you end up worth more dead than alive." What is modern business? The failure to realize that "you can't eat the orange and throw the peel away." That "a man is not a piece of fruit." What is this blog? A series of ideas regurgitated from the minds of those who once thought new thoughts and re-presented in different order as if they were new.

I'm a dime a dozen, and so are you.

Tonight is a story of love
Two broken hearts set by one
All he wants is a sign
Of how she's making her mind
All we ever wanted was

Love and love and happy afternoons
Watching TV from your room
While you're laying in my arms
And I know it's not fair to me
To see your smile walk right by me
Every day, will we ever meet the right way

Again, again

Tonight I will sit next to you
To see if you act like we're through
To make you laugh is all I want
I'll hold you while tears fill our eyes

Brand New on a Tuesday Night

Comments are the salt of my pork. Meaningless? Not entirely.

Took the DE test today. It wasn't so bad.

I should probably post something about girls being confusing just to be consistent with recent posts, but I don't really feel much animosity towards the opposite sex at the moment for some reason. Strange...

The more people are around the more alone I feel. It's a strange juxtaposition of expectations in that I try to surround myself with people in order to feel more like part of a group but somehow it never works out that way. In fact, I feel less lonely when I'm alone than surrounded by people. Something, I am sure, is broken in my brain. On the other hand, places like my home in Elizabethtown certainly can be lonely in a completely different sense. The rooms of that house feel like cavernous cathedrals dropped into an agoraphobic's worst nightmare... empty on the inside, empty on the outside. Like you're never really inside because nothing changes in the transition.

I feel obligated to respond at least somewhat to the comments made in the makeshift forum that has developed... so my thoughts on girls vs. guys as opposed to guys vs. girls:
Many girls really could manipulate guys as they pleased with a little practice. We as a gender are hardwired pretty strongly and unless the guy in question has already made up his mind not to be swayed by you (as I am getting more responsible about doing, thankfully), you ladies have the power to do as you please. You say it's pathetic to be like a lost puppy around you... and I agree. That doesn't, however, mean that it's possible to feel any other way when you really fall for some really sweet girl. You do stupid things around the girl in question hoping to make her like you, random things to make her pay attention to you... sometimes, and I know this from experience, a guy can specifically dislike the girl in question based on whatever logical issues you can raise. In the physical presence of said female, though, the guy frequently loses track of his dislike in the face of something much more powerful and mentally obfuscatory - infatuation or even love.
And that, boys and girls, is my two cents. Donate them to charity.

I have decided that I need a vacation. I'm going to Hawaii. I'm leaving Nov. 30th and returning Dec. 10th. I'll be staying at the Mariott Waikiki Beach and renting a compact car for the duration. Total cost is $2,882.18. Oh, and did I mention it's for two? Now, who wants to go?

So Halo 2 is out... and the verdict is... I need my own XBox. I want to play campaign, because multiplayer is too darn frustrating. It's well done, to be sure, but I hate losing all the time.

I love Scrubs so much... it's wonderful from beginning to painfully early end. But no! It doesn't have to end! There's more episodes because I stole them...

Hachfeld passed out behind me... he's currently snoring loudly. As impressed with myself as I always am for being able to fall asleep on a dime, this guy can drop out in his giant office chair with impressive speed and reversibility.

For a long time I thought I wanted to be like Mason from Dead Like Me - cool, British, and posessed of a completely different style from the rest of the world. Lately, though, I have realized that I am a lot like Mason - a screwup who only thinks he's cool because he's different.

I'm sinking like a stone in the sea.
I'm burning like a bridge for your body.

Snow Patrol on a Monday Night

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Proof that girls are confusing... I could come up with one of these every day.
I don't mean to be mean... I'm just illustrating a point. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.. notice that mine isn't changed. Think what you like about what that means.

klopterz: i'll take that as a no.
Jane: what is uo?
klopterz: uo?
klopterz: i haven't the foggiest.
Jane: o riiight
klopterz: i'm so confused it hurts.
Jane: ummm join the club

On the other hand, there are girls that aren't confusing, and I love you for it. In fact, I'd like to extend thanks to you on behalf of the entire male half of the population.

An:=1/L*int(f(t)*cos(n*Pi*t/L)*dt, t=-L..L) ;
Bn:=1/L*int(f(t)*sin(n*Pi*t/L)*dt, t=-L..L) ;
Ao:=1/L*int(f(t), t=-L..L) ;

I can remember those fine now... but just wait till tomorrow when I'm actually taking the test. I also need to remember the form of Taylor and power series... crap I hate school sometimes.

There are people playing Halo 2 as I type this... I hate them.

I am so going to fail this DE exam.

At exactly 2 am I'm going to bed. I don't care what's done or not. Then I'm going to get up at 9:00 and eat breakfast, then I'm going to murder this exam. Or vice-versa.

It's too late to study any more, but I just did DE for an hour and a half, so if that and doing the whole review sheet was insufficient then I'm screwed.

Tomorrow's Tuesday, tomorrow's Tuesday... just 4 hours of class and I'm free for the whole Wednesday weekend. Except for ConAps homework, an RH paper, and worry about my DE exam, that is.

Enough whining. I'm going to bed.

Some Brand New. This song resonates with me.

I got a twenty-dollar bill that says no one's ever seen you without makeup.
You're always made up.
And I'm sick of your tattoos,
and the way you always criticize the Smiths... and Morrissey.
And I know that you're a sucker for anything acoustic.
But when I say let's keep in touch,
I really mean I wish that you'd grow up.
This is the first song for your mixtape.
It's short just like your temper,
but somewhat golden like the afternoons we used to spend before you got to cool...

Radiohead on a Sunday Night

Comments comments comments.

There is an English paper I should be writing. Somehow I'm drawing a complete blank on it... maybe I should just throw random blog posts together and say, "Here's proof that I have the skills necessary to write the paper. Leave me alone."

Today has been sobering... the high of the weekend has been thoroughly destroyed by homework and assorted other malefactions.

I just wanted to share this with you...

Anonymous Girl: no, like today at fourish when everyone who wandered through the house said "oh my god, the cutest movie ever" and sat down on the couch to watch a little princess
Anonymous Girl: and then we talked about chocolate all night
klopterz: and that makes you proud to be a girl.
Anonymous Girl: yes
klopterz: ok.

Speaking of girls, they are, as previously mentioned at least once in this medium, extremely confusing. Despite that, though, the fairer sex can be as predictable as squirrels sometimes. It's a great mystery of life. I guess the trick is to realize that just because they seem to react to things in completely mysterious way doesn't mean they won't react the same way twice to similar events.

Break is coming. I wonder what I'll do? I suspect I'll play on the computer... probably write some novel-esque crap. If I spent all of break writing I think I could write a decent story by the end. We shall see.

I'm writing a persuasive essay about tariffs on digital intellectual property... there was a time when that would have made me feel smart, but now it makes me feel pathetic and aimless.

Sleep is taking on a new meaning for me... I'm beginning to view it as optional. I'm going to try going a couple days without sleep over break just to see what happens. I just don't know if I'll be able to find enough to divert me during that time... oh, who am I kidding? I'll have Half-Life 2.

My stupid address bar always launches 2 browsers. It's quite annoying.

Some Thursday which I've loved forever...

Splintered piece of glass falls in the seat of gets caught
These broken windows, open locks, reminders of the youth we lost
Im trying so hard to look away from you
we followed white lines to the sunset
I crash my car everyday the same way

Time to let this pass
(the time it takes, the time it takes to let go)
Time runs through our veins.
(it starts and stops and starts and stops again)
We don't stand a chance in this threadbare time
(to take time to break the cycle)

Staring at the setting sun
No reason to come back again
The twlight world in blue and white
The needle and the damage done

I dont want to feel this way forever
A dead letter marked return to sender

The broken watch you gave me turns into a compass
Its still hands still point to the same time - 12:03 - our last goodbye

So push the seats back a little further
Roll the windos down and take a breath
I can see the headlights coming
They paint the world in red and broken glass
The spinning hubcaps set the tempo for the music of a broken window
When the lights are on and the cameras click
We open up the lens to broken glass and it's over in a flash

I'll never understand
Understanding in a car crash

Ozma on a Sunday Morning

Keep commenting. I love you for it.

It's after 4am so I'm going to call it Sunday.

Final showing of "Epic Proportions" was exhilarating, due to the large crowd of mostly parents and the great energy in the cast. Sort of good that it's over, though. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but it had reached it's end tonight and it couldn't have ended better.

Of course there was a cast party, and since it was at Dr. Laxer's house it was naturally a great time. Hung out with Chandra until she left, then hung out with Sami and Bob until the party started to break up. Bob, Sami, and I moved on to New Res and watched a very strange movie called "Envy". I wasn't entirely awake the whole time, but the gist of it seems to be that "the poo has to go somewhere". Don't ask me.

My sleep schedule is somewhat fascinating... I could be a study in alterations in sleep patterns. I actually feel rather suprised when it's light outside, because other than walking between classes I spend a very small amount of time outside during the day.
I've also developed the rather handy ability to nap instantly and anywhere... just give me a chair and 15 minutes and I can use it to my advantage. If I spread the 15 minutes out over the course of a day I suppose that I could sleep for 6 hours at night then take 8 15-minute naps throughout the day and add up to 8 hours of sleep in a night. I don't know if that works, though. We'll see, I guess... tenth week approacheth.

I feel really good, and I can't put my finger on why. I suppose I'll just keep doing what I've been doing lately and hope that I keep feeling this way.

People look at me like I'm crazy when I say I want to be a janitor. I don't understand why. It's not like I said I want to be a McDonald's manager...

I really want to write, lately. I have an English paper to write tomorrow, but I honestly don't much care for my topic. So blogging it is. Though I have more to say, it'll have to wait until tomorrow because it is yet late and I must needs do homework upon the morrow.

I don't have any happy music from which to draw lyrics, so I'll go with a great quote from a great movie.

I say let me never be complete. I say let me never be content. I say deliver me from Swedish furniture. I say deliver me from clever art. I say deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth. I say you have to give up. I say evolve and let the chips fall where they may.

Fight Club

The Streets on a Saturday Morning

Comments make me happy. I'm really moved at the number of people who actually read the blog. Sorry for the long wait between updates.

It's after 5am... wow.

Tonight was yet another showing of "Epic Proportions" which was, as usual, stellar.

Subsequently went to Zach and Adrian's for a cast party which was good time. Hung out with Sami and Bob, then came back to the room with same and watched the end of a movie that Adam and Katie had started... so many names.

I really needed this weekend. It was a hellishly long week.

If you've never read "The Stranger" by Albert Camus, don't. Well, unless you hate yourself. In any case, though, I've found quotes from that book (which I remember with eerie accuracy considering I read it 6 years ago) drifting through my brain a lot lately, and Kara's comment only reinforced that feeling...

Then I had only prisoners’ thoughts... I have often thought that if I was made to live in a dry tree trunk, without any other occupation but to watch the flower of the sky above my head, I would have gradually gotten used to it.

I remember writing the paper over that novel (8-10 pages, double-spaced, TRIIIT format) as clearly as if I'd done it yesterday. I wrote it on a plane bound for who-cares-where with the specific goal of expressing my hatred for the teacher and the course in a sufficiently subtle manner that she would have no grounds to punish me for it. It was a terrible paper, as I really didn't know how to write well back then, but I think I achieved my goal, because the day after I turned it in she asked me why I was even in the class... that was a bad year.
She deserved what she got, though. Shortly thereafter it came to the attention of the principal that our teacher taught only books written by authors who had been members of the Communist party (internet research, apparently, was something beyond the grasp of every other AP English student who'd had her class) and that the ideologies she taught were designed to promote a socialist ideal. At the time I thought that was terrible, and of course the school did too, but now I don't think I'd be as bothered by it. Tolerance comes with experience, I suppose... but she really was a heinous bitch all the same.
She gave me a D on the paper for the sole reason that I had "strayed from the topic" by discussing the authors political motivations in the paper. I suspect that I got a D because I was not as talented at spewing manufactured equine feces into 8-10 double-spaced pages as the AP "students" in my class who had 4.0 GPAs but had to look up "awash" in the dictionary.

OK, wow, that went on and on, didn't it?

Getting into shape is my new priority. This may mean that I'll be asking you to play racquetball with me, so be prepared.

I wish I could make up a list of all the books that I've enjoyed over the years and re-read all of them... but there's no way I'll ever have that much free time again until I fail out of Rose and become a janitor. I think I'd start with "The Tranquility Wars" by Gentry Lee, then start working through Arthur C. Clarke's entire library... oh, and then I'd have to read Steinbeck's "The Winter of Our Discontent"... but for now I'll settle for my lovely 1000-page novel about cryptography. Too many ellipsii..?

I'm sort of unprofound right now, so I'll leave you with some The Streets that I know by heart.

Dry your eyes, mate.
I know it's hard to take,
but her mind has been made up.
Dry your eyes, mate.
I know you want to make her
see how much this pain hurts.
But you've got to walk away, now.
It's over.

The All-American Rejects on a Wednesday Night

Make comments. Any comments. Write your own blog via mine, leave your name, I don't care.

Also, though I've been trying to figure it out the human-contact way, I have to say I'm very curious as to who "pleasantly surprised freshman from mees 3" is. Information leading the identification of said person will result in a ridiculously small reward.

My DE is right under my arms as I type this, but I'm not finishing it, because I don't know how. I hate not knowing things... there is no worse feeling in the world.

I wish I remembered what it was like to be bored. There was a time when I could just sit and talk with someone for hours without constantly worrying about what has to be done in the time that I'm forfeiting to human interaction.

I miss being able to do the stupid things I did before committing myself to a hyperactive lifestyle here at Rose. Like when you pull into your driveway and start to turn the car off, but there's a good song on the radio so you just sit there and enjoy being completely in limbo... neither here, nor there, doing nothing but filling space and listening. Or reading for hours before falling asleep, just dropping out of the real world for a while.

I think that's the problem. I can only take reality so long, then I need to leave it. Taking up reading again has helped enormously, even though I can usually only fit a few pages at a time into my schedule. What I need, though, is the time to talk and someone to talk to. Not that I have anything to talk about, I just miss actually having conversations for the sake of conversation. The pace of life lately has made me incredibly self-centered. It's not that I'm rude or inconsiderate, though that may be true, but rather that I just don't have the mental capacity to really give much thought to other people.

Lately I dream of someday being a janitor in a high-rise office building, just sweeping empty hallways and emptying trash cans filled with meaningless papers and meaningless lunches, working alone with my hands in the quiet artificial light... It seems a little crazy, I guess, but right now I don't think there's anything I'd rather do.

I miss the liberal arts. My English papers are crap of the first order because I haven't the time to write good ones, and English is the only thing other than drama that I have. Not to knock on the drama program here, but the depth to which I can throw myself into drama here is a good deal shallower than what I enjoyed in high school. As for art... I don't like the art on campus, except for the picture in the union of the lady in the blue dress... that's a beautiful painting.

My novel had better be a bestseller, because I'm going nowhere in life... and the life of a bitter novelist appeals to me. I'll write wryly anti-consumerist novels that will naturally become New York Times bestsellers, be besieged by readers who want to know where I get my ideas, to whom I'll respond, "From listening to stupid people talk. Keep talking." They, of course, will be dazzled by my "sharp wit" and I will become even more famous, sell even more books that were written specifically not to sell, and then I will die in a tragic accident.

Somehow dating in general seems to have formed a hurricane around me which i cannot leave the eye of despite my admittedly pathetic efforts. I have the definite feeling that the fact that I don't much care for myself at the moment could be a possible sign of the reasons that girls want nothing to do with me. On the other hand, being a jerk works for so many guys, so why not me? Oh, crap, I don't know. Screw you all.


Brand New

...I got desperate desires and unadmirable plans.
My tongue will taste of gin and malicious intent.
Bring you back to the bar. Get you out of the cold.
A sober straight face gets you out of your clothes.
And they're scared that we know all the crimes they'll commit.
Who they'll kiss before they get home.

I will lie awake.
Lie for fun and fake the way I hold you.
Let you fall for every empty word I say.

Barely conscious in the door where you stand.
Your eyes are filing sleep while your mouth makes your demands.
You laugh at every word, trying hard to be cute.
I almost feel sorry for what I'm gonna do.
And your hair smells of smoke.
Who will cast the first stone?
You can sin or spend the night all alone...
Cause it's all you can be.
You're a drunk and you're scared.
It's ladies night. All the girls drink for free.

Bush on a Tuesday Night

The Election Night Post...

Yeah, so Bush wins. Whoo. And that's all I have to say about that.

Today sucked, generally. Other than the fact that the president appears to be sticking around, today was something of an unmitigated disaster. Not that it really matters, because I've already blocked most of it out of my memory.

I really don't have much on my mind tonight... it's all a whirl. Maybe tomorrow I'll be more eloquent.

Gnight.

Interpol... you know what that means.

When she walks down the street,
She knows there's people watching.
The building fronts are just fronts
To hide the people watching her

But she once fell through the street
Down a manhole in that bad way
The underground drip
Was just like her scuba days

Days
Daze
Days
Daze

She was all right because the sea was so airtight, she broke away
She is all right but she can't come out tonight, she broke away
She was all right, yeah the sea was so tight, air tight
She broke away, broke away

At the bottom of the ocean she dwells
At the bottom of the ocean she dwells
From crevices caressed by fingers
And fat blue serpent swells
Stella, Stella, Stella, Stella I love you

The Early November on a Monday Night

Girls are so darned hard to read. I wish so much that I could read their minds.

When it rains, it pours. Apparently if I make it rain I can subsequently cause it to pour... interpret that as you like.

Movie night is happening tomorrow night... come watch movies with us. It'll be fun.

I think I may have made a mistake. Time will tell whether or not I did.

It's November and it feels like November came early, so I'm listening to the Early November. Laugh if you like, I think it makes sense.

DE isn't happening tonight. I just don't feel like it. It's a good thing the quarter is almost over, because my motivation is fast declining to nothing.

That's all I've really got for the moment...

I love The Streets...

Dry your eyes mate
I know it’s hard to take but her mind has been made up
There’s plenty more fish in the sea
Dry your eyes mate
I know you want to make her see how much this pain hurts
But you’ve got to walk away now
It’s over.