Man I swear I'd give the whole thing up for you

Deep breath. Concision... the emotional journey of the past two weeks has been wild, and not just because I was coming off Effexor but that whole fact collided right into it all and soaked it up in thirst for life. "THESE ARE WATERY TIMES" says this "new paradigm astrology" guy I've been following as of late. Indeed. I feel like a smothered fountain. I know I've been acting dramatic but IDGAF. The truth is, even on a low dose, that Effexor shit is poison. I wish I had Peter around to ask questions about it, but alas my too-good-to-be-true boyfriend is truly bipolar (and an inspiration to get off medication ironically? and a better resource than my psychiatrist) and his mania ended right at the time I started to feel things again. Lou Reed died yesterday. So that happened. So that's a whole music thing in itself. I have so much to write and SO much to do. Scorpio, luckily, is not just about death but the rebirth part of it, too. One thing I know is I have to write. Two, I have to practice what I preach. Be my own parent. I have to take action. Small action, but soon. Toward my dream, my love, my reason d'être. I think this marathon (less than three weeks away!) is gonna just blow my mind. I'm so happy to be emotional again. I guess I see how numbing me could have helped me return to a normal level of happiness and positivity. It's very easy to drown in these Pisces waters, shoot... But I seriously in turn lost interest in everything and as a result just lost myself. Yeah my feelings are intense but that's literally my thing. It's insane that that could be taken away. I'm so, so appreciative. I had the best weekend with the best friend, who I have managed to avoid visiting (weird Philadelphia avoidance I've been doing since being home). Yeah, Kurt Vile. Need to talk about THAT. In three weeks Steph and I run 26.2 miles through the streeeets of Philadelphia. Two years after I stumbled hungover at five a.m. to watch the same marathon with Laura, and decided I was gonna do it. Running has made me confident. I'm very aware it's such a huge catalyst and its importance will only grow as I continue to. Trying to sum up what I wanted to say to Steph, she responded that it was a beautiful text and urged me to "keep writing." Oh to hear the words. Oh to be recognized for something. To be loved! Woe is me. Just kidding. Or am I? I think I'll keep writing. And face the music. “Rock & Roll is so great, people should start dying for it. You don't understand. The music gave you back the beat so you could dream. A whole generation running with a Fender bass... The people just have to die for the music. People are dying for everything else, so why not the music? Die for it. Isn't it pretty? Wouldn't you die for something pretty? Perhaps I should die. After all, all the great blues singers did die. But life is getting better now. I don't want to die. Do I? - Lou Reed (1965-1968)” ― Legs McNeil, Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk "(Rock & Roll) it's the only thing that's living to me. I shall live and die and be judged by it." - Joe Strummer

Let Me Go, Boys!

"Elsewhere. Let me take you away from this. A good poem, a good record, pulls you up by the roots in its first sweep of words, sounds, images, and you let go oh so naturally and easily and allow yourself to be transported. In music we travel. Where? Here. Place that sounds like this. Oh. I like it. Is there some other way to get there? No, man, only this record..." Paul Williams “Is it wrong, wanting to be at home with your record collection? It's not like collecting records is like collecting stamps, or beermats, or antique thimbles. There's a whole world in here, a nicer, dirtier, more violent, more peaceful, more colorful, sleazier, more dangerous, more loving world than the world I live in; there is history, and geography, and poetry, and countless other things I should have studied at school, including music.” Nick Hornby I spent my years in high school entrenched in music obsession, far too emotionally involved at that point to give the same attention to my schoolwork. I've always been a bit of a homebody. As someone who needs their share of alone time, I've spent countless hours in my room listening to music. It wasn't until my senior year of high school that I truly felt transported to another world in a way I had never known was possible. It was The Clash's world, and as far as I was concerned it was the coolest world there was. I took it with me everywhere. It protected me and gave me power. It brought about feelings... raw, heart-wrenching feelings of nostalgia for something I had never even known. When the novelty had begun to wear off, I thought I could never feel the same way about anything. Knowing of Joe Strummer's brief stint in the group, I picked up The Pogues' album If I Should Fall From Grace With God at the Montclair Public Library. I had made a habit of scouring their CDs monthly and importing what I found onto my computer. I gave the album its first listen on August 21st, 2008, as my parents and I headed off to my first year of college in Virginia. I had no idea what I was getting into. I didn't know how to feel. Excitement could not even begin to describe it, but sadness has always had a way of overwhelming all other emotions of mine. I had to do anything I could to suppress it or I would not be able to take it. I didn't want to listen to anything I had ever heard. There were still albums I was avoiding due to their association with my freshman year depression. I shoved my ear buds as deep as they would go. What ensued was an outburst of sheer liberating joy. "If I should fall from grace with god Where no doctor can relieve me If I'm buried 'neath the sod But the angels won't receive me Let me go, boys Let me go, boys Let me go down in the mud Where the rivers all run dry" The following songs were one trip after another. At school, the reality of what was happening did not occur to me until my parents left me at the end of the day. I had looked forward to the moment for so long, but I was stunned, suddenly, by a loneliness and loss I had never known. For the first week I was there, I couldn't listen to anything else. After that, I still didn't want to. School was mediocre. Everything about it. Although in the state of Virginia, Fredericksburg was seen as very northern and liberal, it was stiflingly conservative to me. I felt so out of place. In my dorm room, I was too embarrassed to play any music aloud in the presence of my awful, uptight roommate, let alone The Pogues. So I listened on my headphones to forget that she was there. It allowed me to travel to Great Britain - there was truly such a unique feeling that was produced in their music. Places I had never heard of became like personal memories - the "broad, majestic Shannon", for example. The "dirty old town", the "wild cats of kilkenny" the "rainy night in soho." The acquisition of their other albums took things to another level. These were the good days when I ordered used CDs online with my grocery money, waiting for the sweet sight of the school's package notification e-mail, and running down to the post room to tear into the treasure. Accompanied by their romantic songs of Irish immigration to New York, I dreamed of watching the scenery go by as I made my way north on my first train trip back home. When the news was confirmed that The Pogues would indeed be touring once again that spring, the fantasy of seeing them was all I could think about. Still, it seemed too good to ever become a reality. I had been to a number of concerts, but I had never seen a band live that I loved and worshiped as vehemently as I did The Pogues. The way I saw it, it would be second best to seeing The Clash - and THAT is an opportunity I could not allow to escape me. I asked for it, and I got the ticket for Christmas. Their New York show did not coincide with my spring break, so I had to make a whole trip of the event. My best friend Chelsea from school came with me. Chelsea had only been to New York once or twice before, and had no knowledge of The Pogues before I introduced her. She was, however, my partner in crime, and amazing person with an eagerness to experience everything. I knew my excitement would cause sleeplessness on the nights preceding the show, so I bought NyQuil as a preventative measure and took a dose of it all week before bed. The Friday night before the show, I had planned to stay in and go to sleep early (we had to leave early the next morning - to drive to a Metro station to take into D.C., to catch a Bolt Bus to New York). Being eighteen and out of the party loop at school, I had not been drinking much at the time. I had gone to college with a very different idea in mind. Listening to the Pogues all the time - as they are known for their rowdy drinking antics, and their music is practically based on it - certainly exacerbated my thirst. I was saving it all up for the show, when my older sister in Brooklyn would treat us to drinks beforehand. Somehow, Chelsea persuaded me to go to a party that Friday night, and somehow, that one drink I had was far more than I had expected. I lay awake shivering all night, debating whether or not to wake Chelsea to comfort my misery. I vomited a few times, but my illness was unchanged. I did not sleep. Chelsea and I made our way out in the quiet morning as I tried to munch snacks to soothe my stomach. What should have been the most exciting day was absolutely dreadful. I squeezed my eyes shut on the car ride to the Metro, focusing as best I could on whatever was the opposite of nausea. The Metro was worse. By the time we were on the bus, I was thanking GOD for my ability to begin consuming a Coca-Cola and box of Saltines. When we arrived in Brooklyn, I was so embarrassed and ashamed to tell my sister what I had done - how I had gone and poisoned myself, ruining what I felt was the most important night of my life to date. Getting drunk was part of the Pogues experience, and the anxiety my anticipation had caused had made it an absolutely necessity to me. We all sat in her apartment, eating plain pasta and sipping Blue Moon, lamenting over the troubles of the day. I was actually terrified, at this point, of how I would fare at the show - if I'd hold up at all. It was a mostly silent subway ride for Chelsea and me. I leaned on her and closed my eyes, as my stomach twisted in and out of knots. I could not let go of how I angry I was with myself. We arrived early, standing near the front and watching the opening bands. My excitement escalated as they switched to playing music on the stereo - The Clash. As the songs got progressively better, I kept expecting the band to come out. It wasn't until "Straight To Hell", however, when they played the slow, militaristic opening drum loop repeatedly that the crowd began to roar. Out they came! Yes, there was Shane MacGowan, in all his drunken curmudgeonly glory. I had never seen anyone I idolized so much so close up. He made it! I made it! We made it. I swear I forgot about my nausea immediately. My regret over my low level of drunkenness was smashed to bits in an instant as they tore into their infamous opener, "Streams of Whiskey." "I am going, I am going, any which way the wind may be blowing. I am going, I am going, where streams of whiskey are flowing!" I thought I was going to need to be drunk to dance, as I am usually a very shy person. As it turns out, not only did I feel less inhibited than I ever had before, but if I had been as drunk as I had planned to be I might have been trampled. Now, I never thought I'd enjoy a mosh pit much, but as the whole front of the room threw themselves simultaneously side to side, forward and backward, Chelsea and I screamed with laughter and gave in to the dance. It was absolutely cathartic. Every repressed feeling of joy and passion I had been harboring all year was released in the company of so many others. It was absolutely exhausting. Yes, they played almost everything I wanted to hear and they sounded incredible. I lost Chelsea a few times, who also lost her sweatshirt. It was a cold March night, but inside Roseland Ballroom I had never sweat so much in my life. When we finally stepped out into the night, I had never felt so rejeuvenated and so depleted at once. I have not yet run a full marathon, but I would imagine the feeling would be similar, followed by a few good rides on a rollercoaster. Desperate for water, we grabbed some from the shop next door and hailed a cab to take home to my sister's in Brooklyn. I have never felt so satisfied, chugging cold water and watching out the window. I rarely take cabs in the city, and this was the perfect opportunity to relish the passing lights of the city, from Midtown Manhattan and over the bridge to Park Slope, Brooklyn. The whole experience was all more incredible and more worth the trip than I could have ever imagined. To share it with my wide-eyed southern comrade was something else altogether. I could not have taken a moment of it for granted if I had tried. "Then we raised a glass to J.F.K. And a dozen more besides When I got back to my empty room I suppose I must have cried"

Thanks for the music

A reminder that I'd like to write about how the best thing I got from a bunch of boys I liked was the music they introduced me to, and that was the most they had going for them. But they couldn't be proper human beings. Also they're so full of the fact that they introduced me to stuff but I've always been really upfront about all of it, I don't pretend to know it all AT ALL and I have always been very grateful for anyone who simply introduces me to something good... I mean listen, I just so happened to have not heard of such-and-such, or been motivated to explore it til you mentioned it was so great. That doesn't mean it's less mine than yours. So SPANKS FOR THE MUSIC, GUYS!

You can't hold the hand of a rock 'n' roll man

I tried to post all these drafts plus what I just wrote but it published it all out of order and I can't figure out how to fix that. WTF. anyway here's a draft of a full thing I wrote. The assignment was kinda like, to write about something that you saw with your eyes that was so extreme and unbelievable. Dan's apartment. During my freshman year of high school, I "fell in love" with my new friend Dan. I hadn't met too many different boys at that point in my life, but I had certainly made a habit of obsessing over them, focusing all my energies solely on the chosen one for a period of months or years. Dan fit the part of my crush in a way I could never have imagined. First of all, as he was dating my best friend at the time, he was entirely unavailable. Second, he was a musician. He had an impeccable taste for music which I must admit has greatly shaped my own. By high school I had really begun to create my identity out of the music I listened to. The Beatles, of course, are an all-time favorite. Dan had a bit of a George Harrison aura - whether or not I would have admitted it at the time, it's pretty clear to me that I was drawn to the witty and mysterious air about him that clearly signifies emotional unattainability. Dan would have talked to me on Instant Messager night and day if I had been allowed that much computer time. All his friends intimidated me - he was connected with a larger contingent of cool skateboarder boys young and old. The times we actually hung out, I would freeze up, incapable of "being myself." How was I ever going to make him like me if I couldn't even be myself? Anyway, at least I had our online relationship. He was easily the most intriguing person I had ever met. This is because to this day he is a complete enigma. A very creative and talented person, yes, but an enigma. Everything with Dan was up for interpretation. He certainly got his share of interpretation. With every friend I have, every journal I filled, and every moment he consumed during my six-year infatuation. To be fair though, he is still an indescribable person, and the feelings I created over him were such that, once shaken, I've now intended to avoid until they whack me over the head and can't be ignored. Intended is the key word in that sentence. Relevant stories saved for later boy tales. The story I forgot to focus on here takes place eight years after our friendship began. All you need to know about the in-between is that our relationship continued to stay the same, in that it was constantly fluctuating and frustrating me. And yet I could not let go of my desire to be his girlfriend. At least I think that's what I wanted. Isn't that what this was all about? It had to be. A life without this fixation seemed to me like no life at all. On my last birthday, I went to dinner in the city with my best friend Kaitlin and my family. I was having a great time - food was incredible, and the company was wonderful and actually getting drunk on liquor! Kaitlin and I discussed seeing who was around to meet at a bar so we could enjoy the night a little longer. As was often the case, Dan was the first person to come to my mind. He had moved into a real live studio apartment in the East Village right after high school with two of his friends. It was always terribly exciting to visit, getting wasted and getting a taste of his cool life. Maybe this time he would ask me to sleep in his bed. As no one else was around (no complaints here), Kaitlin and I went way out of our way to meet up with him. We followed him and his friends around for a bit before heading back to his place. His place... his place looked worse than ever before. In the past, every filthy rotten quirk of his had added another dimension to his appeal. After graduating school, his roommates had moved out and any sense of responsibility, hygiene and humanity, frankly, had apparently moved out with them. The Dan creature was finally free to ooze out all his wretchedness into this godawful space. I don't mean to sound so harsh, but the truth about Dan is that he's a very negative person. Kaitlin and I joked around with him about the state of things. It wasn't until he and his friend left to buy more beer that the reality truly settled in around us. The smoky, fermenting reality. I mention those two qualities because of Dan's consistently present vices of beer and cigarettes. Other than that, he eats a lot of pizza and used to drink at least a few cans of Coke a day. I wonder why he always feels like shit? Out of disgust and boredom came the idea to clean the place up a bit. We turned it into challenge, seeing what difference we could make in twenty minutes time. We filled three huge black trash bags with cans and bottles of every kind. You never knew what you might find in each one. Clearly he had missed a few trash days and had had no thought whatsoever of doing anything about it. There was not a space free of garbage. This was Dan left to his own devices. Of course I already knew he never followed a normal schedule, and I'm pretty sure he drank with his friends at his apartment, in some capacity, every day. But it was all too clear here that there was absolutely no lines between anything in his life. This is a man who does not give a fuck. I had always envied that about him, and brushed any faults off as amusing. I had never been able to roll down that road, however, and I suddenly became very grateful for how uncool I was. Upon his return, Kaitlin and I tried to give him a quick lesson on putting trash in a trash bag. I also addressed the problem of the kitchen sink, which was filled with a vile grey liquid and some plant life of sorts. All I had to do was put my hand in a plastic bag and pull out whatever was clogging the drain. He found that pretty amazing. For once, I was happy to leave his apartment. Unfortunately, we missed the last bus home by just a few minutes and had nowhere else to stay but Dan's. This time, an overnight was my worst nightmare. It was a hot, muggy August night, and I was more than ready to shower and collapse into bed in my air conditioned room. Instead, I shared with Kaitlin a thin mattress over a wooden crate in the middle of Dan's apartment. He spent the whole night kissing and talking with a girl who had been over all night - I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me that this might happen. I guess I expect things to stay the same. I lay awake all night - well, from around four A.M. to 8 A.M. - head pounding hard and a small stream of tears that came and went. As soon as the hot sun gave me permission - and Dan and his lady friend had been silent for a good ten minutes - I woke Kaitlin up and we headed out, finally embarking on the long journey home. Worst birthday ever. I haven't been back there since, or gone out of my way to talk to Dan.

got a right got a right gotta write gotta write......

Today I feel happy. But most of all, I feel happy that I felt happy every day of April but one. I know so because I've been putting stickers on my calendar - peace sign means I make peace with whatever was unhappy about the day, smiley face means I was positive, forward-thinking and moving all damn day y'all. Mac Mothafuckin Dre. It's a good way to take responsibility for my actions and track my mood without having to think too hard or write anything. Haha. Anyway, one month of feeling like myself was a powerful dose of medicine. The idea is to build *resilience*, and just a month of it has made me feel I could never backtrack to where I was before. Obviously there's something in the air. Major planet alignments, eclipses and shit. Springtime obviously. But it's more than that. So naturally I'm behind on a lot of new albums, even from some artists I hold closest to my heart and should have been salivating anticipating their release...... But for everything there's a season they say, and maybe my hopes would have been too high for Cat Power and Kurt Vile. Instead, Mark from work came in and showed me his blog, we talked about his favorite albums of the year, and he brought me Cat Power's "Sun" from his car. At roughly the same time, I finally put my foot down and bought "Waking on a Pretty Daze" by Kurt Vile. I wasn't quite prepared for its release when I heard about it when I was in Philly. Still, the painting of the mural in Northern Liberties? Materialization of the quiet spirit that

fit and working again

will be the name of my new blog i start tomorrow - the first day of the rest of my life. lol things have been zo dramatic but at the end of the days my resilience has just been building. #winning. laura my sister is obsessed with hash tag stuff and insta gram news and i can't handle my jealousy over some people's iphones lives... i think, truly honestly, that it would be helpful for me - because yeah i don't respect my phone's that much when they've made it throw so many toilet and washing machine droppings and weren't nice or "smart" and always do weird things... steven is so mean and pretends like it's a thing that i break all my phones. why does everything have to be such a THING? haha why does everything have to be such a RAGa! now that i have fixed my ipod (whaaaaaaat) things are really getting crazy after 7:30 at The Sun Spa. this is so weird but it's so STEVEN'S TERRITORY in there - and you have to experience to believe the absurdity of his personality (remind myself not to make mention of my blog to steven) to believe it - so the way I am slowly building the confidence to play things further from things he would play hahaha and what I love to listen to on my own that hardly anyone I know even understands and most normal people have never heard and would not even hear it if they did. Like The Fall! Hey I may be going through a New Fall Phase. Just meh-beh. But this morning "Mexico Wax Solevent" (...I think it's called) came up on my shuffle (I was trying to find... Slates? Is that the name of the record? It was so sad I couldn't remember. I thought maybe the full Slags Slates, Etc. Here's the definitive rant slates drive me bats therefore I say hey fade gimme the ..... bait... give us a break... I'll have to look that one up. Here's the definitive rant. I'll title another thing that 'cause that's the best opener for the title track and last song of that album, mmm, mmm ,mm. This thing was always really fun... http://gcoleman.tripod.com/quote.html. Woop that's a link.

Not to beat a dead horse but every day that I'm at work and have to listen to Q104.3 I feel angrier than the last day. Sometimes I can predict what will play next. On Tuesdays (Two For Tuesdays) I often predict the second consecutive song by the artist... What's really sad is that Rock the Casbah is actually totally revitalizing to hear... even though it's the most played out, classic-rock-icized Clash song... sorry, that and Should I Stay Or Should I Go?, which they played next. Why even bother? Last Tuesday The Kinks came on and it literally felt like they slapped them across the face by rushing through "You Really Got Me" and "All Day and All of the Night." I mean, great songs, but again, just don't bother. They play Billy Joel so many times a day - a rotation of about ten songs - couldn't they bother to find out what albums the Kinks recorded? Fat fucks. Haha. No. Probably though. I imagine all these DJs as fat old fucks. I know they don't chose the songs anyway. Brings me to Pink Floyd. Who, honestly, wants to hear this band on the radio. THEY ARE HONESTLY SO DRAWN OUT SELF INDULGENT AND BORING. why would I want to hear Comfortably Numb, and then Time? They also have that other song that has the same tune as time. Maybe some kind of reprise, maybe laziness. This is the part where I start to incorporate stories of boys I've been involved with. Everyone keeps telling me

Elsewhere

"Elsewhere. Let me take you away from this. A good poem, a good record, pulls you up by the roots in its first sweep of words, sounds, images, and you let go oh so naturally and easily and allow yourself to be transported. In music we travel. Where? Here. Place that sounds like this. Oh. I like it. Is there some other way to get there? No, man, only this record..." So this was a little something Paul Williams was saying about Marquee Moon. I'm trying to think of what to write about on the "travel" topic for my class, and how to make it personal and creative, and not just write about the time my family stalled out on a hill in San Francisco... although it does go down in history as the most significant travel memory and the smell of burning clutch the most significant post-traumatic SMELL... It's funny that when Paul Williams died, I had been trying to remember his name in order to find that book I used to have. Of course I didn't, and still don't, have the most thorough knowledge of rock journalism (how can a girl keep up with everything), his writing was so influential to me. Lester Bangs' stuff was fun as hell, but Williams' essays sounded like they could have actually come from my mouth. How amazing to be able to speak so simply, to admit to awe and wordlessness, and humble oneself at the feet of piece of music. It made me think that maybe I could do this after all. Anyway, the subject is travel. In music we travel. And it just so happens that some of my most poignant internal journeys were to Ireland during they heydey of my Pogues obsession. This is, of course, coming right off the life-changing personal journey with The Clash... which took me to places never dreamed of! That's another story. But just when I thought such a thing couldn't happen twice, The Pogues saved the day. Now I've written about this before, of course, so I just have to brainstorm a bit to figure out how I'm gonna do this. 1. When I left home for college, I listened to If I Should Fall From Grace With God for the first time on my iPod-- let me go boys.... had to keep listening at school for comfort and homesickness' sake 2. being at Mary Washington, such a weird new place, feeling out of place, obsessively blasting the Pogues into my ears at all times, to mask the presence of my awful roommate, to add flavor to the dull life, to give me confidence, identity, personality, fun, drunkenness... DRUNKENNESS.. I was at college and there was no partying. I was under 21 and I was sober all the time and THIRSTY AS HELL 3. getting amped for my first trip home for Thanksgiving break... Thousands Are Sailing. Missing New York. 4. Concert , obviously, the actual trip 5. When I got back to my empty room I supposed I must've cried

COMPUTERS ARE EXTREMELY STRESSFUL. THA FUCK i'm writing to myself for now because i can't access my blog. for the first time i couldn't remember my password to my old verizon.net. If I could share what the password is anyone who read this could have a good laugh. but i always end up sharing it with my close friends. it's my password for everything. kurt vile, i die right now. thanks for getting me in the mindset. shit is good right now, like, something's up, man! It's all what this eclipse is doing. Lit-rally. I think the reason I've been so anxious and overwhelmed haaaaaa aaaaaah shame chamber :( says kurt. not because i've been scared of never moving forward, but because i've been scared of moving forward. it's what i thought it was all along, i just had to arrive at it at least a little bit and there's no going back. i mean it's ridiculous. if i just lived every moment with less care in the world i'd be a lot fucking happier. all the time i do things that make me happy i just wish i did more of them, so i'm going to replace bad thoughts with happy ones as best as possible3. at night i wake up with the sheets soakin wet and a freight train runnin though the middle of my head and only you can cool my desire, ohh oh oh i'm on fire 3 the moment that flipped on my writing switch just now was hearing All Day and All of The Night come 104.3 just now, I could tell it was some legitimate DJ, too, who had just said in that cool late Sunday show smooth old guy voice, about how some riff was a mistake, and someone said play it again, and they did....  cool story, Hansel. NO! Just kidding! I wish I knew what the story was. I loves stories. Luzz them. I wish I knew all ze stories. 'Bout all ze songs. I'm so high la la la 3 6 9 CAt Power DRANK wine openyamindupandLISTENTMEKENDRICK wakin0napr3ttyd@z3 <3 <3 the fuck else i'm distracted because i'm excited that i'm writing, being high and listening to music in my ears, and stretching my body, all at the same time ... which shouldn't seem like that big of a deal, but i relly need to make the most of my me-time........ which, before, was probably like, all ze time. bernstein bears and too much college. i'm working on the most epic playlist of all time. but so far it only has four songs, two of which are still questionable. it's an idea i had and then kaitlin second-ed, about the Kings of Leon song, Arizona, and the Bruce song I'm On Fire.. and a quality they share which I'm trying to either decide what the quality IS, OR find another song to go on the playlist to help further the definition...... kinda think i laak her, kinda think i doooo! ooo hoo those boys. they're all scorpios or earth signs i think, damn that shit come out sexy sometimes. and other times it just makes them a bunch of wussy girls with pretty eyes... maybe. The other songs are Chan Chan and Sweet Child of Mine, but I'm thinking they probably really go in other categories. But it'd be nice to have diversity if it becomes a car mix (UM DUH ITS BECOMING A CAR MIX) (WHICH MAKES ME THINK I CANNOT RULE OUT THE SWEET SOUNDS OF SWEET CHILD O MINE) oh, I feel really good right now because I ran 10 and a half miles today (went up from 6.5 to 8 last weekend, and wanted to get to 10 today! Looks like I will be able to run the half marathon after all. I'm just gonna have fun with it. I bet I can beat 2 hours. I'm gonna go for it secretly. I think that's the way to do it. So I've heard. It's called pushing yourself? Being competitive? With yourself? Whatever it is, I needs it. I also needs to watch how often I say that lest I forget the proper grammatical configuration.......!! Oh yeah but all day and all of the night..... made me get to thinkin' about paul williams, if that book was by paul williams, which i still need to figure out, and writing a bit about that song, and other songs, somethinscookin. keeping cooking at a high flame, emily student - ms. wells, my inspiration and the reason i'm here today, ladies and gentlemen we are floating through space, good night MORE MUSIC, FIX YOUR COMPUTER, bye! KENDRICK HAVE A DREAM GRAHAM NASH FIX YOUR IPOD AND CLARISONIC SYLVIA PLATH

10:09 Time to Do Homework Emily Solecki February 17th, 2013 House sitting, and the internet stopped working. I went down to the basement to try to restart the router, but the touch of my finger on a round button on a router shaped object lit up and sounded the alarm that the Xbox was turning on, haha. I think it’s a sign that i should write. Do u know what I was going to do on the internet? Watch the current season of “Girls” now that Kaitlin gave me the HBO-Go password I needed. I just went to Indian with Leslie and George. It is bitterly fucking cold outside right now. I was sweating in my light jacket traveling to Brooklyn just two nights ago. Family and Will are in Cape Cod. And Charlie. They had a blizzard apparently today. Dad sent a cool lookin’ pic of mom descending on the bay in her black puffy coat and weird hat. Tonight I guess I was in a receptive mood, because George told me to write for an hour, every day, and it seems to be a thought that has finally affected my actions. I’m doin’ it, people. I was trying to decide what to write about. Kurt Vile was an option and he’s more current-relevant than a lot of what else I wanted to say. But I’ve been making great On-the-go playlists on my iPod lately. Chosen through shuffling mostly, and then narrowed down or saved and a new one made. I’m bout to make some MIXES they’re all a-brewin’. Stewin’ inside me. That’s gross. Annabelle is a great person/friend/source of inspiration – duh. But having little tastes of creative and spiritual aspects of her life… it’s shockingly different from my everyday existence/activities/state of being. And in her way, she’s singing, playing instruments, writing music, praying, meditating, helping people… I was more trying to focus on her “religious” stuff though, and how that’s led her to these beautiful musical hobbies. Hahah I just wrote hobbits. It’s a habbit…. She and George Harrison = Pisces friends who will be the Ravi Shankar to me… assuming I’m George. Bob Loblaw. I’m getting compulsive about how often I say that in my head. My dreams have been hella realistic and nuts. Every one is very clear to me. But some I forget! They’re always almost somehow lucid in different ways. Once upon a time, Kaitlin and Emily were in love with Kurt Vile. Emily traveled from Flipadelphia to Spook Farm on a Saturday so they could go to the city to see him in concert. Just an aside, he was opening for Dinosaur Jr., but that was a minor detail since we tried hard to like them for the show and it pretty much really failed. We got all wine drunk and dressed in ideal outfits and talked about him/listened all day and smoked that grapefruit stuff from her vaporizer. We traveled – from way down there – so it was like an hour and fifteen minutes on the train. We fucking missed him. This is the worst story ever. I think Kaitlin and I have some kind of concert bad luck voodoo… and if we felt ambivalent about Dinosaur Jr. before, that really turned to hatred after listening to that damn album only to discover you missed Kurt. We were soooooo sad. And it turns out he didn’t really play that many songs/play too well but I don’t care. Anyway, he’s going to remind me of Philly now forever no matter how hard I try. Shout out to Ben for getting me into him. Passing it on at the perfect time. “I pack my suitcase with myself but I’m already gone – cleanse myself with vi-ta-min health but I’m, already gone” “my best friend’s long gone but I got runners up.” He added sweetness to all my thoughts in Philly. I could see him lamenting in my window on Rodman Street. Coming home to a warmly lit house, hangin’ out with Lori and Thistle. Bein’ my boyfriend. ‘N’ shit. Wow I’m badly distracted. I need a very ideal writing station situation… like writers always talk about writers needing. Speaking of which I’m really trying to read this book “Bird By Bird” (put a bird on it! and one by one by billy bragg and wilco and woody guthrie) by Anne Lamott? Is that her name? It is WONDERFUL. I’m not so far though. I have a lot to do. How come when I smoke I get so much energy? I said I was gonna write for an hour, but for now I’m gonna write for a half an hour. BYE

i can really feel a dream down here

taking old little summarizing lines and replacing them with new ones - that replaces "and i never dreamed of the sea again". i'm having a lot of realizations lately. and stuff. haha it's really watery down here but the more watery and weird i get, the more i have to write about current ghetto music situation - make a plan for getting my shit together aka give your computer over to apple store for up to a week, hopefully not more, and be okay with that! back to my reading list - i don't even listen on the computer anyway. must. live. without. netflix. must. live. without. okcupid. - and when you ran to me your, cheeks flushed with the night - fun times with emily songs ^that's for emily wherever i may find her but lately i've been listening to emily the joanna newsom song. it's magnificent. i still have really not heard a single other song of hers. sorry friends! it's on the list. for all my listiness, you'd think i'd have found a way to everything in one place at this point. a literal list needs to happen - i reminisce i reminisce anyhow, right now i'm trying to focus my energies well right now, positive over negative - deja vu tell you what im gonna do - and not stop listening and writing. what i was trying to say originally is that i just need to go to depths of whatever has been, dont deny the introversion/isolation/whatever because it's only going to be going that deep that will bring me deeply outside as well. i had a lot of really good astrology conversations with annabelle today, which was so nice... she showed me our "partner horoscope" which i had never looked at... and it was CRAZY! there were like three lines in the whole thing. never seen anything like it! anyway it's just really helpful for me. and it's truly soo comfortable, like our thing said. its almost like seeing her is really weird because we only make it happen like twice a year but... it's us. and you cant put a lot of pressure on it, you just have to enjoy it. it just feels like we should live near each other and have a natural influence and involvement in each other's lives. i feel that way with all my best friends, i guess. it makes things difficult. esp for someone always acquiring the energies of the people around me. anyway maybe i could me the godmother of annabelle and theresa's baby that's biologically nate's. well that's that. essentially. bathysphere -> george -> pisces. whatever. oh. yeah. the whole thing i was just realizing was... as much as i know it... i think it's sinking in more, what an opposition my leo and pisces are. because its like i have to go deeply deeply inward to go outward. its really intense. my whole chart is really intense. i have really high expectations for everything -_- my god. "i been fightin this since them fetus days" "life never lived up to my expectations - so i accept the patience" "earth jupiter mars. it's who you are" god damn outkast is so good. this song is too much. well i'll get back to all this! BYE

Also More than Anything right Now

ERrbady gotta go o tto o tto. goo goo dolls guy: is this the paul westerberg that wrote Otto? paul westerberg: (hangs up phone) I'm excited that I love this album and that I'm listening to it. It doesn't hurt that it's called SSCHARRY MA... hheheheh sCHARRY see snl skit "gilly" with kristen wiig if you haven't yet. I love the word sorry, sorry. Laura and her friends used to have a real big thing about it stemming from Zoolander when he says "Oh I'M SORRY, DID MY PIN GET IN THE WAY OF YOUR ASS?" it just gets better The next thing I have to do is write a couple serious things. About the movie, and a few other pressing matters of my devotion

- I don't do that.

Dre rock the jewelry with the clear stones And get on a nigga head like some earphones I finna spit it, with a clear tone Get yo attention, the biggest thang since the T.V. invention Dope as yola, I'm a big shot, a show off Plus I'm a big pimp, I get tow off Fuck a good job, she need a good jaw And sell BJ's until her mouth get raw I'm from the California coast, beaches and riches Hit the cot, get ghost, no more sleepin' with bitches I got a coughnut, sittin' on wires On Vogues bitch, not Michellin tires Can't control my desires, I buy from Nordstroms not Fred Myers Do a lot of weed, love my supplier She keep it, fuck the blood out my supplier Man I'm bigger than life, I do it Magnum And bout these broke bitches, I'm through with havin' em' Dre bogard, he shove and he push And start war for nothin' G.W. Bush We be lovin' the cush, but only in the backwood It ain't a backwood, it ain't all that good I'm from the streets, where most need heat But I slice a nigga up like some roast beef meat [Chorus:] I can bust you a rap, but anything else, not my job I peel ya cap back, but anything else, not my job I get ya for racks, but anything else, not my job I make you a slap, but anything else, not my job [Verse 2] Bitch gone ask me to come with her to grocery shop I told her straight up like this, "no siree bob! " That's not my job, I don't do that I'm a pimp slash rapper, I thought you knew that And where yo dude, should I serve em' the news And let him know you finna be walkin' in some brand new shoes Ooh, you a fool, gotta watch thy self One false move, and you could stop thy self Sometimes I'm not myself, I'm another man I'm a rockstar, in another band Plus I'm the man with plan in his hands Soon we'll all be playing in sand Cause to my estimations, and these calculations And all the money I made off the Rompalation I finna get as many didgets that's on my license plate I shit on some of these midgets bitch I can't wait [Chorus] [Verse 3] When I dip, they trip off what Furl dressed in Plus I got a mouth full girl's best friends I'm a back to the future new game kind of nigga Y'all lames is plain, drinkin' the same kind of liquor Wearin' the same kind of clothes, fuckin' the same kind of clothes And you bedrock pimpin', meanin' yo games kind of old You don't want it with me, I'll bother ya So get lost pal, before I clobber ya I got golden gloves, I give ya a new look With stiff left and a sharp right hook Niggaz know snitches, they ride and they go with them It's all gravy, as long as they don't tell on them Me and my team, see we a machine Fuck with my mans, and I'm a have to intervene I'm a sporco, and a sauncho Always lookin' out for Benny Blanco

I can feel it in my hands I try to hold it but it slips away

Now I'm frustrated because alls I wanted to put - as a reminder to write about it later - was a Youtube link and the lyrics to a song that's named Heart(things never shared) by Dough Martsch on my ipod.. but . Ok nevermind, it's called Window, that settles that... I need to get my shit together! I don't know where this song came from physically/technologically. But my love for doug martsch singing songs is ever strong. like so many other great loves at various stages (all my friends is all my songs) it's at some kind of standstill (holding all the potential energy in the world) because of so many distractions. god damnit, I'm going to figure out how to focus my energy if it's the last thing I do this month. (a little less than two weeks). LOL. oy vey. look at me grow. how will life be with another week off vyvanse? a few more weeks into my running schedule? when i'm livng at home? wher ei will be working? spring? summer? not the point...this song! just copying and pasting for now http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-LkCtwZTO_Q There's a Color and a shape to the night I'm not suprised you never wanted me to Notice When the darkness is covering and covering everything I can feel it in my hands I try to hold it but it slips away Away Away Away The empty desert bowl And my belly's getting ______ down to the sand And all thats left at dawn is ashes No more blood or bones and the green sun in my heart although its always burning never keeps me warm I'm always riding in its flames Flames Flames Flames And if it isnt clear Then clear the way for something dear And if you try I'll try not to explain Open u p your window to the world If you want the world to bring you happiness And pain Pain Pain Pain It's hard to get someone into Built to Spill for some reason... Louisa says only people from montclair listen to them but I have a couple not from who do - Kaitlin said she just can't get past the voice... it's hard to EXPLAIN how its not annoying -_- mom said during "nowhere lullabye" that she liked it and it sounded like neil young =0 somehow would have never thought that but now i like it a lot. which brings me to the frustration of not knowing doug martsch's birthday. equivalent problem with kurt vile. equivalently important and frustrating and equally impossible to find - although Ben works with this girl at american apparel who is friends with kurt vile's sister so i'm put him up to the investigation. I think i'll listen to this album next, probs not a bad idea.. and fixing my computer and itunes is going on my liste of things to do real soon I think i'm about to go through a led zeppelin revival - Good times Bad times is starting it. AAAAAAAHHHH hahaha who would've thought? damn . it's so fun though. this guy is a leo moon in pisces. AS WELL AS myself, and robert deniro who rocked my world in that silver lining movie last night. also coco chanel.... i'll find the others, i forgot leonard cohen has a pisces moon. we are sad people. the song Avalanche is one at the top of my list of songs i need to write about I stepped into an avalanche ......... (it strangled up my soul) I felt a little boss listening to that today. Gettin in my station wagon. Weird philadelphia hungover mediocre weather overcast day, a little high and going to babysitting. everythings really cushty mushty on the streets of philadelphia... like running walking driving or on the train i'm like who are these people. i know all cities are like that and philly's actually really desert but the thing iS THE QUESTION of who are all these people who live in philadelphia? taylor swift suxors and so does linds lohan - i feel so bad for her but she she sucks. she looked really dumb by critisizing jennifer lawrence who doesnt hae a twitter good for her, and was born 6 days after me - Leo, (moon in gem and venus in leo) but otherwise so similar with mars in taurus, mercury in virgo, and aquarius rising actually! she was amazing in that movie!!!! i hope she never gets a nose job. i'm really conscious of celebs noses now that i found out they all got them done. ehhhhhhhhhhhh. mehhhhhhhhhh.grimmace. anyway jennifer lawrence, she cool, I wanna be her. in that movie she really spoke to me emotionally. i liked her telling of robert deniro about the eagles record. DAMN. That is the power i want to always harness!! that girl has got the FIYAH!

What's A Girl Supposed To Do?

Literally.? Oh I just don't know where to begin as per use...ghh... ual. What is the proper way to abbreviate usual? The usual? You know what I'm talking about. Ok I'm drunk for me. I also haven't smoked literal (not literal would be res hitting this shit) weed in over a week now. Also took a week long break from Vyvanse for the first time in years since I started it. (Music:Andre Nickatina- Killah Whale) What tha fuck to even say? i found old journals this weekend from high school where i wrote my "mood: and "music" like on livejournal or something I am so angry. 's'not even funny!!!!!!! Okay I'll begin here and talk about inernet things I stumbles upon when I stumbles the internets because I's has nothing else to do ... Sorry I don't know WHAT playlist is playing right now that Brooklyn Zoo is playing.... okay I[m so fucked up on being on and off shit.. CARRARZY.... keep planets in orbit! fook yeah odb I don't remember ever putting this on a recent playlist. I don't listen to music anymore I'm going to do acid on saturday I think with Miss STephanie BROOKLAYN zuh anyways my roller coastah overmotions is happenin you can suck mdiiiick what am i gonna do? is the question. back to the question fuck this -----> i check pitchfork for the first time in long times, and I sees portlandia actoooars and the sumamry says something about Girls" and i wonders if its the show or the band. figure its the SHOW and these fuckers lately reheating me about LENA dunhma being a fuckhead discrace and I'M SORRY THAT I'M angry and i'm sorry that i hate beyonce and HER FAKE MICHAEL JACKSON TYPE NOSE JOB NOSE and every other actor with that sames fake nose, being fucking ulgy and sucky and having no shame or self worth is not a worthy antidote to pop culture FUCK YOU kaitlin was right when she said I should write a Girls antitode TV Show. LENA DUNHAM mark my word.... zwhy zwould zyou oname your show Girls? And play their fucking song in that sstupid shit ass wedding jemma scene? So I click on the portlandia thing, THERE'S NOTHING ABOUT IT except that it's both of their asshole favorite shows righ tnow. what's a girl supposed to do? I haven't listened to music I MEAN LISTENED to music in the WAY I LISTENS TO IT in two years and theres no more excuses and no one lives up to my expectations and WHATS A GIRL SUPPOSED TO DO? what about finally watching replacements documentary and more seriously acknowleding this sideline favorite band I somehow have taken for granted. i'm sick of trying to convince people. this thing.... I mea n I never even listened to their fist album. and now its all i WAnna hear but I don't own it. And my itunes is broke. and i dropped out of school and i just want to do something with music i think but everytihng is so overwhelming, and i doubt everything, and yet deep down down in the depth of the pisces waters i know what know. and its realer tahn real and securer than secure. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO TLK ABOUT??? "The "Portlandia" stars talk to Carrie Battan about crying at a Bruce Springsteen concert, possibly poisonous cookies, "Girls", being hopelessly addicted to sweets, Grimes, trying to avoid Twitter, awkward hugs, and more." I'll kill this I just wathed silver linings playbook okay I'll write a review tomorrow MUAHHAHHA oh yeah that was the point good soundtrack good movie. muahahha

lost my shit / trying to act casual

That's what I wanted to call my new blog - ha ha ha ha ha - but I got too lazy to make a new blog. I'm actually trying hard to focus... this is an experiment in training myself to write - by writing! No shit! I dunno how I ever let it get this far.. I think that ultimately I need to do exactly what I want to do right now. The irony is that I'm used to feeling like I can't do anything. 2013 Identity Crisis WHO AM I? I'm Jean Valjean. That's another thing I really need to write about. 2013 music of the people who will not be slaves again. LOL. Oh man. Oh I remembered the point I wanted to make: how I'm coming to a conclusion that I'm the opposite of casual in every way... "I'll never be laid back as his beat was" (need to write about Kanye esp. that song)SO I really lost my shit. Like Kanye who has a pisces moon too. LIFE IS NOT CASUAL. LIKE OMG. SRSLY THOUGH. What's a girl supposed to do? (now everything i'm not made me everything i am)/ Point is, I'm overwhelmed but if I keep on this path I might be able to weed out enough things (to make space for only what I want to be consumed with) that I feel peace... and more importantly, peace enough to feel satisfaction and fulfillment and all of those. I never really felt cool but fuck everybody. I got a lot to say though. I've been sitting in a pisces pity pool for far too long though. Too long a time to keep myself down. (Oh yeah turns out I did it to myself! But it's everyone's fault but mine. I think I'm getting the hang of it though... believe in yourself!) 2013 I LOVE ME