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Mike

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[02 May 2002|10:58pm]
Mountian ranges, morning red bathed ridges stab up at the trembling blue horizon. Gray slides lazily off rooftops, lands on the incandescent ground and dies. A flock of little men touch down on the thin surface of porchlight. Dawn's footsoldiers return to march twilight across our faces. Skylights ignite and explode, scattering shards of April around the room, but no one even lives here. We're too busy crashing our cars every morning in the same house. Paving the same roads, unwilling to walk them. And even when we extend ourselves, it's only to be included in a moment that stands still so often we don't struggle to improve conditions. We struggle for the right to say that "we improved conditions". And so often we form communities only to use them as exclusionary devices. We forget that some lone man is beside himself with grief, somewhere people are calling for teachers and no one is answering. Somewhere a man stands, walks across the room, and breaks his nose against the door. And somewhere these people are keeping records, writing a book. For now we call it "The Book About the Basic Flaw" or "The Book About the Letter A" or "Any Title that a Book about a Man that No One Cares About Might Have". And as we turn the pages, we call out the sounds of nothing, the sounds of a vanishing alphabet standing here waiting.
49 traded moments in for memoriesMake mountains out of molehills

[10 Apr 2002|11:31pm]
[ mood | annoyed ]

You know what? People worry soooo damn much about labels and who is labeled what. Well fuck that. People are what they are... I decided last night when someone told me "You're 15, you act like you're 27 and married" that I worry too much. Labels mattered to me too much (quite different than anything else going on, though). I decided that I'm going to quit worying about the status of a certain something, and just go with it and have fun. And as for everything else, that should apply, too. If people feel like getting a certain haircut or dying their hair a certain color, then they should do it. Fuck anyone who says they are stealing someone elses style. Everyone steals from everyone else, whether intentionally or not. It really shouldn't matter... I guess all the music we listen to shouldn't exist, because it's influences are from other music. I mean, shit, if everyone had that attitude about everything, pretty much every damn thing would be at fault.

If anyone has a problem with how I dress or look or anything about my style, speak up. Insult me all you like, I'm not going to change for you. If you find satisfaction in it, more power to you. Tear me apart in this public forum, be my guest. It would do nothing except enrage people close to me, and there's no point in that.

People should just pull their heads out of their asses and understand that trivial things shouldn't matter so much. There are things infinitely more important than what some stranger decides to do with themselves. Just take this piece of advice: Have fun any chance you can, and don't worry about others, whether it's what you think about them or what they think about you. Just let it be.

16 traded moments in for memoriesMake mountains out of molehills

[17 Jan 2002|10:40pm]
Today was pretty cool. I called in to find out I was working, so I went in, worked 2 out of the 3 hours before they send me home... just before I was let off work, Jason, Andy, and Julie came in, so Jason gave me a ride home in the Hoopdie. Also I got my paycheck... it was a hefty little sum. It was pretty damn convenient that Jason was there to give me a ride. By the way, thanks Jason. Oh yeah, and everyone should goto see Hit Cavinder's little "finale", as I'd call it, at the battle of the bands. Tickets are only five bucks. I'm out now, g'nite journal, g'nite world.
Make mountains out of molehills

[09 Jan 2002|11:40pm]
Finals today were easy... tomorrow is the part I'm worried about. After that, the rest is a cake walk. Tomorrow I have killer Lit and Bio finals... it bothers me that I might fuck up... lots. If I can do alright on the essay, and the multiple choice is... very literal, and not about interpreting bullshit then I'll be fine. Bio... well, all those damn body parts are what will fuck me up. I know the facts... but I don't know all those damn diagrams, like the baby in the womb. And I'm sure I'll never be able to remember all the names of scientists and shit... there's just no way. Friday will be so simple though... study hall for 70 minutes (as if I need it) and then off to my German final. German is a big fuckin' joke. It's the most homosexual class there is, and Frau makes it that way... she never fails to put me to sleep. Oh well... sleep sounds like a very good word now... I feel like I should get another big vacation after these finals. 2 half days isn't enough... I want time in the morning to sleep in. I can't handle going back to school... it seems like the root of all evil. I'd honestly rather be at Taco Bell working, making money... first of all, working is better than school, and second, I get paid for that, not for school. But then again, if I want to make real money, I have to stay in that prison for a few more years. I hope to god that college won't be like that. If things worked out my way, I wouldn't even goto college... I'd start a band with Matt and we'd get big enough where we could tour all over and make enough money to get by. It'd be better than slaving for the man... damn the man. I'm so tired now, maybe I'm not thinking straight... I think it's time for bed. G'nite journal, g'nite world.
Make mountains out of molehills

[06 Jan 2002|11:45pm]
Jones soda is crazy... I'll never believe the fortune, although Matt has gotten some remarkable ones, and James was exactly right... "Your love-life will be happy and harmonious." Rediculous...












She wrote the words 'I love you' and sprayed it with perfume
It's better than the fire is to heat this lonely room
It's warmer where you're waiting, it feels more like July
It feels more like July
And it's yet to be determined, but the air is thick, and my hope is feeling worn...
8 traded moments in for memoriesMake mountains out of molehills

Money, Money, Money [02 Jan 2002|05:16pm]
[ mood | cheerful ]
[ music | Operation Ivy - Sound System ]

I picked up a big fat paycheck today... it was sweet. I got 2, since they didn't give me one for like... the week I worked before. My taxes kick ass... They're only like... not even 10%. It's sweet... so out of the 2 checks I got like $120. On my next check it's going to be like $100, because for working about 15 1/2 hours, I got like $80. I've already worked 17 hours, and I have like... 10 more on the way I bet. Oh damn... fun. I'm going to have that half stack soon, I bet. Maybe a new guitar... ooooh, the possibilities.

4 traded moments in for memoriesMake mountains out of molehills

[29 Dec 2001|04:34am]
And time has been spread so thin
and it's just hours till the day begins.
And the things that are keeping you here are not keeping me here
and the things that are keeping you here will keep me away.

And you'll be sorry
isn't that what they'll say.
Don't follow your heart cause it just seems to get in your way.

And don't ever leave here
and mope at your leisure
and straighten out your crease here
and truth is in a tall beer...

Are you drowning your fears
in a glass of deception?
When everything is easy than everything will be ok .
When everything is easy then you won't be sad that you stayed.
1 traded moments in for memoriesMake mountains out of molehills

[19 Dec 2001|07:56pm]
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.
5 traded moments in for memoriesMake mountains out of molehills

[12 Dec 2001|11:25pm]
I just thought I'd plug Dan's show, in case someone might stumble upon my journal who didn't know aobut the show.

Saturday, December 15th
Exclamation Red w/ Whipl@$h and Drop Cell
Doors at 7 $5 @ the Valparaiso National Guard Armory (on Rt. 30 across from Al's Diner)

Be there, dammit!
4 traded moments in for memoriesMake mountains out of molehills

[10 Nov 2001|02:09pm]
And I was drinking you goodbye
A heart floats in the bay
From sour home Chicago
I hear it beating far away
There's no telling what I'll do
If I don't return to you
5 traded moments in for memoriesMake mountains out of molehills

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