The Distance

the truth is painful and depressing and aggressive and destructive and potentially meaningless but I have to believe its more important and that its always better to know.

Hes going the distance
Hes going for speed

What Is and What Never Should Be

new song, this time theres a tune and guitar part and all. I'm not sure if its quite finished yet though.

You want me
No you don't
You mean something
I don't know
A can of arsenic
To get me off of your toes

Do you want me
I should go
You are not me
Or did I show
A creep with pasty heart
And made of gold

A creep with pasty heart
Growing mold

if you say to me tomorow
take my hand child come with me

Radio Song

Bob Dylan is sitting somewhere in manhattan with his guitar. Its 1962. His friends have herd him play before but only other peoples songs. Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, get him a little drunk and you drag an Elvis tune out of him. So for the first time he plays an original composition, lets say Its Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding), but he really could have played them anything. They tell him 10 things

1. It makes no sense
2. I barely has a tune
3. You sound like you swallowed a toad
4. Its melodramatic and cheesy
5. Its a real downer
   
6. Its gos on for ages
   
7. Its a strange bastard child of rock and folk
8. It doesn't rhyme
9. Stick to your woody guthrie
10. Your names bobby zimmerman

Don't give up

the world is collapsing around our ears

Blues From a Gun

Today was a good day. It was a good day. I had a great breakfast at cafeina. I played guitar for two hours. I hoped a train into berekely and got two clasic records that had previously alluded me. I saw a good play and some people I rarely see. After that me and jack caught a buss into berkeley, grabed dinner and hung out until midnight.
But I also had a horrible day where things lacked significance and I just struggled to get out of my head for a moment.

dreams of escape keep me awake
i'm never gonna get out and make it anyway

Round Here

Thy fingers make early flowers of
all things.
they hair mostly the hours love:
a smoothness which
sings, saying
(though love be a day)
do not fear, we will go amaying.

thy whitest feet crisply are straying.
Always
they moist eyes are at kisses playing,
whose strangeness much
says; singing
(though love be a day)
for which girl art thou flowers bringing?

To be thy lips is a sweet thing
and small.
Death, Thee i call rich beyond wishing
if this thou catch,
else missing.
(though love be a day
and life be nothing, it shall not stop kissing).

-e. e. cummings (1923)

if I ever had the chance to woo a girl with poetry this would be the one.

she says she's tired of life
she must be tired of something

Settle For Nothing

not many people could tell you that The Shins' Wincing the Night Away is a concept album. It begins with his insomnia in Sleeping Lesson, where he spends too much time thinking and being lonely and reading philosophy books. He rejects religion and society in general and gos out. He meets a girl in Australia and begins to tell her about philosophy but warns her that she would be damned to fall into the dodo's or the android's conundrum, (wings without flight, life without living). But in the end he decides to tell her anyway, and they "jump out the window" together. Pam Berry is too short to derive much meaning from and Phantom Limb is the story of a couple lesbians in a small town and has little or nothing to do with the plot, so on to Sea Legs. The next day our guy is falling in love with the girl (or wishes he was) and he realizes that come nightfall ("when the dead moon rises again") hes gonna start thinking again. He knows that he'll infect her with his grim point of view and their love will be doomed. Flip the record. Night again, they're getting deeper and popping some pills out of "gunny sack for Red Rabbits" (possibly a reference to alice in wonderland's rabbit hole). He doesn't want to think about his outlook on life and doesn't want to talk about it but she wants to know. In Turn On Me, though she tries to hide it, the relationship is failing. And he blames her. He tells himself he doesn't need her, that hes just fond of her. And at the end of the song he sets her loose. But he doesn't feel a relese for breaking up with her and in Black Wave he feels so lonely and he dwells on it. Split Needles is a turning point as he realizes that this fall from religion into nihilism has destroied who he is. He can no longer interact with the world around him and he thinks that maybe he should never had gone down the path that started in sleeping lessons. The night is probably ending by the time Girl Sailer comes on and he is awakening from his anger and resentment. He reflects on his resent romance and sees that he had a big effect on this girl, for better or for worse. She is probably in the same experience he had in the last two songs, she cant escape it. But he also knows that he wasn't in charge of her experience, being really "just a passenger", and he begs her to keep on, "sail it, don't sink it". In A Comet Appears he sun is rising and he sees a comet hurling through space. He thinks about how the earth is just hurling through space with people trying to hold on. The entire time he has though himself as Nietzsche's uber-man, above society, above regular human emotion, and now he sees that he is nothing of the sort. But he knows that, just as Nietzsche worked so hard against, he has become numb and nihilistic. I am amazed at how much this reflects me, right down to the book I'm reading right now, and it is among the most amazing albums I have ever come across.

read my writing on the wall
no ones gonna catch me when I fall
death is on my side

Heroin

I think that irony is the lowest form of humor. But people seem to love it. Its what allowed scary movie I, II, III, and IV to make so much money. And it thrives because its easy. I takes no more skill then repeating what someone said in a mocking voice. Last year it became fashionable to praise boy bands in an ironic sense. But at some point it gets too 'I get it, haha, now can you turn off that fucking music'. Hipsters quietly enjoy irony to such an extent that almost everything they do loses meaning, being just a small joke on something else.

and that blood is in my head
then thank god that I'm as good as dead