Now all I want to do is talk to you.
RIP.


Who is going to tell me I have funky madonna style now?
When I pierced my ears in the downstairs bathroom with a safety pin it was with her. The holes closed up and now all I have in my right ear is some scar tissue.
I'm glad I had someone to share my bad music taste with in middle school. We borrowed each others cds. I guess I should be listening to alkaline trio and placebo. It was so cool how you were a bitch to ellie in ceramics.
She showed me a bollywood movie for the first time.
I guess we won't be running into each other anymore. Just turned 19.

all American

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julies truly dazzling

the after school special.

coming down

it seemed like the house was always cold. the carpet was old and stained, an ugly beige color. We came over to his house a few times to watch daytime tv. it was a small house with dirty windows.
he lived near the power plant. you could sit on his roof at night smoking cigarettes and watch the lights blink for hours. they were so bright you couldnt see the sky, a starless night. there was a lake next to it, where they dumped the sewage, which would steam in winter. this gave everything a blurry glow.
he was older than us, but it didnt really matter. i guess you could call him a burnout, i mean he didnt much of a future ahead of him. he worked at a mexican food restaurant and didnt talk much, he was a friend of a friend.
it was a themed restaurant, a few blocks away from downtown. it had meals worse than fastfood (like all themed restaurants).
He was like a personal PSA, the real-life example of too much pot smoking. being at his house was like a moment of clarity, a step into that cold house was like a step into reality. an example of how many ways you could fuck up, what happens to the people no one pays attention to. the ones who 'slip through the cracks' like a penny or a cigarette butt.
everyone has this non-discript friend of a friend. the one who buys you PBR and doesnt really care about whats on the news. the ones with the linoleum floor and the chain link fence. i only ever though about him in passing.
then he moved away.
this is what February feels like.

TWO DOTS :::

dollys disco dancing

DR. STRANGELOVE SYNDROME
Alien hand syndrome is caused by damage to certain parts of the brain and afflicts thousands of people. This bizarre neurological disorder causes one of a person’s hands to act independently of the other and of its owner’s wishes. For example, the misbehaving hand may do the opposite of what the normal one is doing: If a person is trying to button a shirt with one hand, the other will follow along and undo the buttons. If one hand pulls up trousers, the other will pull them down. Sometimes the hand may become aggressive—pinching, slapping, or punching the patient: In at least one case, it tried to strangle its owner. Says neurologist Rachelle Doody, “Often a patient will sit on the hand, but eventually it gets loose and starts doing everything again.”

into the night

GENNY

landscape architect

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heart with pride. Be the fierce impulse of his rage obey'd, Our battles

CHEEKY BASTARDS!

burn your bridges

I had a hangnail.
“Stop biting your nails”, he said, “you’ll chew your fingers off”.
And I put my slender hand down, and kept my eyes on the floor of the car. He would drive fast. He liked the feeling of everything going by.
We went down the road to the center of the city to see the lights. It was a concrete city. Tall, and empty. Cold and dead. To get there you had to go by the factories and oil refinery that would spark fires in the sky when letting off gas. You could only see a glimpse of them from the car window. No one lived in the city anymore. Some of the elevators still worked and you could go up into the old apartments and offices with furniture in them. We would sit in the chairs and sofas that were splitting at the seams, and look at what the water damage had done to the ceilings. We would try to figure out which stain was what country. All the buildings we went to had sheets of papers littering the hallways. Sometimes you could find ripped letters and photographs. Time went slower in the city. The town halls’ clock tower had stopped, along with all the other clocks and you could never really know what time it was. My watch broke. We didnt really have time.
We were strangers before, and when it happened it went on for too long.
The left over smog gives you amazing sunsets in the city. Bold orange light that makes you feel warm.
It was our city. We killed afternoons there when nothing was on TV. Our city had a buzz. You could feel it. It had the noise of old florescent lights. Sometimes I could feel it flowing through me like an electric current from all the TV and radio signals. All the cell phone connections. It came through my body like a wave, echoing inside my chest cavity. Like a flapping bird in its cage.
There were times when I could feel it stronger and stronger until it was getting out of hand. I didn’t want to get rid of it and tried to hard to hold on to it. It was a feeling to strong to hold on to. You were a feeling to strong to hold on to. I remember everything.
We would walk in the middle of the empty roads and watch the stoplights change from red to green, and watch the brick buildings slowly crumble. We had all been waiting for something to happen and it finally did. We were left alone to revel in it.
“Its time to meet new people” he said. And I didn’t know what to say.

why not

Hi!
I've entered a contest to create a :30 clip around the dangers of bad credit. A winner will be chosen, based on votes received by 31 July. The winner needs at least 100 votes. The prize is $10,000. To add to the suspense, a pal of mine who's close to the process says than none of the other clips have anywhere near the 100 vote minimum.
With your help, I think I've got a decent shot at actually winning the prize.
So, I'd be grateful if you could log on, check it out and vote for my clip.
If I win, I promise to host you all to at magnficent party where the champagne will flow, beasts will be roasted and vegetarians accomodated with gourmet delicacies.
Here's the URL
http://www.whatsmyscore.org/contest/videos.php?displayVideo=92
My clip is called "Cube Farm" and is a typcially lighthearted piece based on still photography (it's not the one with the rapper).
The site is sponsored by Visa.
My contacts tell me that the information they ask for is just to assure the vote is honest, and you won't be spammed.
Thanks!
Tim

'To lose a passport was the least
of one's worries. To lose a
notebook was a catastrophe.'
Bruce Chatwin
'I never travel without my notebook.
One should always have something
sensational to read in the train.'
Oscar Wilde

how soon we forget

three reasons why I stopped going to "peers building justice"

1. second semester I got 8th period off. on block thursdays (the same day as meetings are held) i get out of school at one thirty. this is slightly inconvenient.

2. Jared Guy

3. emails like this:
Coverage of 'School Shootings' Avoids the Central Issue
by Jackson Katz



In the many hours devoted to analyzing the recent school shootings, once again we see that as a society we seem constitutionally unable, or unwilling, to acknowledge a simple but disturbing fact: these shootings are an extreme manifestation of one of contemporary American society’s biggest problems -- the ongoing crisis of men’s violence against women.

WHAT?!

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ttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asyWVtoCjNM