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| Playing |
| 05.30.04 (3:53 am) [edit] |
To whom it may matter to:
I've got a job to start working at, and I'm allowed to put in some hella overtime to make some money for a studio... I just heard of this guy who recorded for some famous people and moved to Cave Junction, Oregon... about an hour and a half from my parents' house. That being said, I've decided to put together a list of tracks that I will put on my silly little acoustic disk.
[i]Playing With Fire (and getting only a little burned) [tentative]
1 ) Pure
2 ) Basic Mathematics
3 ) Letters to Elavil [acoustic]
4 ) Mellowdram
5 ) Drowning
6 ) The Difference Between Puppet Masters and Prostitutes
7 ) The Taste of You
8 ) The Inside and The Outside
9 ) Shadowcalls
10 ) This Moment
11 ) Shut Up and Go to Sleep [acoustic][/i]
This is all tentative, as I haven't even let my producer know what songs I want to play, but I figured I'd throw it out there because it's 4:45am and I'm bored and had nothing else to write about.
I'll keep you posted.
--Avarice
[i]The Taste of You
Do you remember the sound
Of falling from the ground?
Or remember what it was like
To finally be right?
You tried so hard to place the blame
But this time it won't stay
Like a shark who is out to feed
We all learn your game
It's been so long
You know, there might be something wrong
With you
Do you remember how it felt
When we used to melt?
Do you remember what you'd do?
I still know the taste of you
You tried so hard to place the blame
But this time it won't stay
Like a shark who's out to feed
We all play your game
It's been so long
You know, there might be something wrong
With you
It's been so long
There's something fucking wrong
There's judgement in her eyes
And nobody knows if she means it
There's actions in her words
And everyone knows she's just a little off
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| Cutting you out of me |
| 05.29.04 (3:57 am) [edit] |
If I'd hope to inherit anything from my family, I pray I gain my father's wisdom. He's wise beyond his years, and just when I think I know how deep he is, he surprises me.
You wanted to hurt me. You hurt me.
My rage was so hard for me to release because you've done something that most others can't even do, and you've done it so well that definition is struggling to keep up. Congratulations. Not many people can hurt me like you did, Kel. You did good. Real good.
Unfortunately, you're a horrible liar.
To say that I manipulated you, hurt. By God, I asked you every single second of those hours we spent learning how our bodies worked, and you consented to every moment. I cherished you, and there's not a soul who was around us that didn't know that. You were perfect to me, and I did my all to let you know that. There was no manipulation. There was even no fault for you to blame on someone else. We grew up. That's all.
To blame this lie on a great friend of mine, hurt. And this isn't the first time you've done it either. You've got quite the skill at turning people against me, be it with Travis's admiration for me and his love for you, or with Will's quest to exploit my flaws in hopes of "saving" me, it would seem that the master of manipulation is the girl that no one wants to blame. I'd commend you, but you don't deserve my words.
But of course, the most gracefully executed cut would be the one you knew would drive me insane. To say that our whole relationship "wasn't happy" or that there "was no love" is on par with being torn apart with a dull fork. You knew right where to stab. It's not that I still beg for your love, because I don't want it. It's that memories of your love brought happiness from time to time. You cut out a part of me that brought even a little joy, even as the event was over. I smiled because it happened.
And even now, refusing to sit down with me. It is probably in your best intrest. My wrath is pretty harsh. I could attest that I wouldn't physically hurt you, but mentally, emotionally and spiritually, my guns were locked, loaded and sighted in. I was ready to shoot. I was ready to kill you with out killing you. I was ready for closure.
But no one knows me like you do. You know I need to raise my voice for closure. I know you get off on the attention. I know that you love to hear how you hurt me. I know that it brings you a smile for my "manipulation of you", which I think we can both agree: you're only pissed because I called things off.
You said I changed. You just don't know how much.
I don't need an outburst for closure anymore. You want to hide, you want me to find you, you want me to make it public so your friends can feel bad for you as you explain the situation? I'm sorry, Kel. I don't run the drama gauntlet anymore. I have no need to air my dirty laundry, or even give you some form of satisfaction. It was over then. It's over now.
Keep blaming me, if it makes you feel better. I don't care. I don't live here anymore. The only people that I would worry if they thought ill of me are right here with me, laughing at your lies. I sleep well at night.
I hope numbering your lies to God keeps you up.
--Avarice
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| Crash, burn, repeat |
| 05.25.04 (11:26 pm) [edit] |
[i]"Fuck you, motherfucker. Drop my name again, and I'll drop your ass to the deck. Talk about shit you don't know about, and I swear to God, I'll send your ass to meet him, comprende?"[/i]
Rage fuels me now, burning my insides like an inferno. I will not be quelched, I will not be moved. You will burn as I do, if not emotionally, then physically. You have solidified my hate for you in the deepest chasms of my heart, and I will not forget what you have done, even as you steal those closest to me. Never again will I trust you as I did. Never again will I greet you with a smile and pour my day into your cup of deception. Step to me, and you will leave with your tail between your legs, your pride on the ground, and your blood on my hands. I will fucking kill you if I have to.
I do not take to betrayal kindly. Jason was lucky that I loved him and thought of him as myself. You, on the other hand, have given too much time to let our "friendship" fade. I used to think that it was you who changed. No, that isn't true. I am the one who has transformed, into the very beast that you claimed I would be: a Godless, heathenistic bastard. You are still the same as you always were, right?
No one has changed, hurt and pushed away those loyal to him more than you. Aaron, Lee, myself and countless more form the group that you cast aside in your holy assention. But that's not even the case, is it? You were lost, and you found a sense of community. You are no more holy than the moment we first met, two outcasts looking for shelter.
I've changed. I know I have. I've become sure, strong, and sharp. I've not changed to the degree you express to the ignorant children who soak up your every word in a hope to get closer to God, though a fallacy that you construct to make your ego surge.
You think that my behavior was uncalled for? You think that I'm to blame. You're attempting to make me look bad so that she'll feel good. I am not a devil. I am just a man as she is just a woman. Listen here: I never did anything she didn't want to do. She only now realizes that she shouldn't have, as I realized some time ago. This does not make me vile, evil, or manipulative. [i][u]We[/u][/i] were young. [i][u]We[/u][/i] were naive. I grew up as you have not. To convince her that anything but makes you my target. My prey.
You are now the source of my hate, my anger, my rage. I will stop at nothing to debase you and those around you. You fucked with the wrong best friend, you arrogant fool. Do my words hurt you? Good. I wish to cut every part of your body. Do my intentions shame you? Good. I wish to expose your shame to everyone you know. Does my rage frighten you? Good. You should be afraid. I am different than you. You should fear this. Holy wars are some of the most bloody and horrific (and determined) battles that the world has been forced to see. Things have not changed.
I will torch your faith and laugh as you stumble, instead of showing you the things that I've seen. Child, I will kill you and leave you a hollow shell, fading from day to day without a purpose and direction. I will treat you as you have me.
I will burn you as this rage does me.
--Avarice
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| I do this to myself |
| 05.24.04 (10:54 pm) [edit] |
I have a difficult problem when it comes to assigning my friends. God has this silly way of finding ways of getting between my friends and I.
She doesn't understand why I showed up. She doesn't understand why I want to be around her if I'm not looking for some action.
I did this to myself. Somehow, I ruined the friendship before it could blossom. As lovers, she thought she was nothign more than that, a piece of sex. I felt that she was something warm that I could confess too, and nothing would be wrong. I didn't let her know what she was.
I did this to myself. I tested myself with fire and burnt myself to death.
--Avarice
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| Stillen |
| 05.22.04 (3:52 pm) [edit] |
I must apologize for my recent behavior. The world about me has done its best to kick me in the teeth as I'm expecting a punch in the gut. Things like planning and probability have gone so far out the window that I'm left confused and dazed trying to rearrange my life into a form or pattern that would involve me keeping my apartment, my car, and my beloved guitars.
I almost pawned one of my guitars yesterday. See? My brain is not in the right frame of mind currently.
I wish to be still for you, but it is so hard, especially here where these are the sum of my emotions put behind a face that I can be honest. If you were here, you wouldn't even know. Trust me, I've done it before.
I will watch what I say.
--Avarice
[i]--This Place is a Prison--
This place is a prison
These people aren't your friends
Inhaling thrills
Through $20 bills
And the tumblers are drained
And then flooded again
And again
There're guards at the on ramps
Armed to the teeth
And my case the grounds
From the cascades to puget sound
But you are not permitted to leave
I know there's a big world out there
Like the one I saw on the screen
In my living room late last night
It was almost too bright to see
And I know that it's not a party
If it happens every night
Pretending there's glamour and candelabra
When you're drinking by candlelight
What does it take
To get a drink in this place?
What does it take?
How long must I wait?[/i]
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| mine |
| 05.19.04 (11:02 pm) [edit] |
I really doubt these will make it to music, but I like them.
[i]The Inside and the Outside
It's gotten too dark to see
On the inside or the outside
I've the part you had of me
From the inside
And I wonder where the sun has gone
It used to sit right there, lighting everything for me
And I wonder what have I done
To make it go away, making it dark
Making it too dark to see
On the inside or the outside
I lost the part you had of me
The only good part of me
And I wonder, are you fucking happy now?
Are you now content as I hit another bottle down?
And I wonder, is this my reward?
For being good? The taste of you is stale
And I wonder where the son has gone
And I wonder where the son is now
I bet He's out there with you
I hope you know
I love everything that you do
Even if it makes me sic
And I hope you know
No matter what you do
I'll still be waiting for your call
And it's too fucking dark to see
On the inside or the outside
And I'm waiting for my arms to bleed
And cover me in warm
'cause it's gone, it's so fucking gone and I can't see
On the inside or the outside
And I wish that you'd call me
So I can hear you breathe
And I wonder where the son has gone
Because he's not here with me
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| It's not mine, but I feel it |
| 05.19.04 (8:45 pm) [edit] |
The Blue Channel
And I'm not so sure
If I'm sure of anything
Anymore
This is the last night
That you'll be keeping
secrets from me
Hit the lights before you leave
You know, of the million things you had to say
Sorry just, it just might have found its way in there
Somehow, some way
But don't worry, Sweetie
Because I already know
And I'm not so sure
If I'm sure of anything
Anymore
This is the last night
That you'll be keeping
secrets from me
You're so guilty it's disgusting
He's been sneaking underneath your sheets
And your hands have been
In places they probably shouldn't go
But don't worry, Sweetie,
Because I already know
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| Emotion Sickness |
| 05.18.04 (8:39 pm) [edit] |
I wish I could scream. I've felt this way for a couple of days, and everytime I think "Okay, Marcus, you can do this... you're so fucking close. Everything's lining up... you don't have to worry anymore, everything's going to be alright..." something feels the desire to just laugh and say, "nah, here's a little more, buddy. Enjoy."
This is life, I tell myself, but God dammit, I'm tired. I'm tired and I can't sleep. I haven't slept much in the last couple of days, and it's so weird, cause that's not me. I'm emotionally drained and scatterbrained, trying to make rent. I could kick this damned world's ass if I could just get on my feet. I feel oddly depressed, though I get the feeling that I've been hiding it well.
No, I'm not oddly depressed. I'm understandably depressed.
Guess who lost the "go" in the "go for it".
--Avarice
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| Making believe |
| 05.14.04 (2:20 am) [edit] |
I've had this song stuck in my head for the last couple of days, and I can't figure out what it is. I believe this is a clever trick on behalf of the Leezard to make my brain explode so that he can be the singer, as he has yet to best me in pool and claim it fairly. Perhaps someone knows what it is?
[i]Would you, would you cry for me, yeah
And bleed your eyes, my soul to keep
I'd love to know your reason
You keep your eyes away from me[/i]
I've been looking for it all night, and Leezard is "sleeping"... whatever that means. It seems he has to "work" at "8 o' clock in the morning". Pffff. What a dummy head. Doesn't he know that the best times are when you haven't slept in a week and you start seeing stuff?
Oh well. Maybe the song will stop and I can fall unconcious until 6pm tomorrow when Leezard can tell me what it is.
--Avarice
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| And if you want to bring me down, I'll sit with you awhile |
| 05.12.04 (2:34 am) [edit] |
Writers. Ah, how I love creative writers.
Okay, maybe it's not just creative writers. It's pretty much just creative people, who I love. It's so hard to find fresh new things. For instance, I picked up a book from the library that looked promising: the story of four kids who get tired of the trashy people around them, and take matters into their own hands. I think that's a wonderful, as I myself have often wanted to do such a thing. Unfortunately, it was the most uncreative piece of garbage and the biggest waste of a spring afternoon, if ever there was one.
The story was horribly predictable, grossly under written, and over all felt like it was just pushed as a book that someone was paid to publish. Even the moral of the story was incomplete; despite the children's want for peace and contentment, fighting is not the answer.
Hmmmm... in that light, it almost sounds like a statement on the current "war". Laudibly, everything else seems to make sense. Here's a writer that took a side in our battle verses terrorism, hurried through writing a book (it was really, really bad), and published it, marketing it towards the next generation.
A bad book just got worse.
But, as my thesis stated, I love creativity. Anyone who can take what everyone else has and make something unique *AND IT STILL BE GOOD* really makes me smile. Surprises are great, even if they are for the worse, because I hate it when things go exactly as I expect them too.
Where's the fun in life if you know how everything is going to turn out?
--Avarice
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| From the outside of everything to the inside of you |
| 05.10.04 (3:15 am) [edit] |
I so knew you weren't going to call back.
Good game. I win.
Hello friends and otherwise strangers. I'm really tired. It's only 1:11am and I feel like I've been up for a week. It's strange to see how much driving and "the road" can wear a person out. I only drove for a little over three hours (THREE HOURS?!?!?! I COULD DRIVE ACROSS THE ISLANDS THREE TIMES!!!!), but I am stupid tired. And by stupid tired, I don't mean some faddish slang. I mean that for the last two hours I've been babbling about whatever topic has come to mind... mostly how Ja Rule is a silly name and that 50 Cent is about as hard as warm butter. I mean seriously, what kind of hardcore gangsta sings about magic sticks and bottles of bubbly?
"In Da Club" is kind of a disappointment now that I know that he's saying "Bottle full of bub". I was always hoping that he was saying "Bottle full of burb"... because Burbon is Superman's drink in comparison to bubbly. And I really don't want to go into the whole fact that his name is gramatically incorrect (it should be 50 Cents, unless he shortened 50 Cent Piece, which is in no way manly or gangsta-ish). I sometimes wonder if that's his real name... if Mama Cent named him Fiddy at birth. Even now I giggle at the thought of seeing "Fifty Cent" printed on a birth certificate.
Of course, the humor can only go so far. Just wait. We'll start getting a horrid attack of poetic irony when the joke becomes truth... I think of it like the hippy / baby boomers bringing names like "Moonstone" or "Sunray" into existance. The next generation will be plagued with "Ja Cent Thompson"s or "Fourty Seven Ice Smith"s. Ugh. I shudder at the thought.
Not because I'm a close minded individual, although I will admit that when I've set my mind on something, it takes an act of God to make me change it. It's more of a dumbing down of integrity to me. Never has it been socially acceptable to name someone a number, if just for fear of leading our nation to a way of numbering people, but these days, it would not be shocking. I'm past being shocked with new news of something so stupid that I have to laugh, and I know that most everyone else is too.
Is that okay?
Should we as a nation EXPECT people to be stupid? Are schooling systems are turning into a joke and no one says a thing. Why? Because the reason that the schools are being "dumbed down" is due to high failure and drop out rates, like education has, in some way, become some high life goal. You know how I made it through school? Because I wasn't chasing girls, I wasn't getting drunk or fucked up or stuck on what my peers were thinking of me. I was doing my time, bettering myself, and getting the fuck out of there. I passed. I got a piece of paper somewhere saying I'm smart enough to perform basic tasks.
Still, we lower the standards for every new crop. Why? To demean the value of a high school diploma? Lemmie put it this way: 100 years ago, $100 was a big deal. Today? Pffffff. You're kidding, right? $100 would HELP, but I can't go a month or two on $100. I owe too much, and the money doesn't mean as much as it used to... anyone can get $100. Now, we're doing the same thing with diplomas. They're so demeaned that unless you have at least some college (and even a degree is getting to be a standard), you are considered "unenlightened"... or sub par. IS THIS OKAY?
I learned a lot of important information in high school. Granted, I had to shift through the shit and find the really important parts and learn those, but there was some good, life serving information there.
Jesus, what the hell am I talking about?
I guess the point is this: Why do we constantly standby and let things like this happen? We are not that powerless, honestly. What happened to integrity, dedication and zeal? These aren't terms used only to describe religious folks.
I don't know. I'm in stupid tired mode.
I'm on standby.
You should call me.
--Avarice
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| Where is my AIM? Way out in the water, see her swimming? |
| 05.08.04 (1:26 pm) [edit] |
Hooray. I got a library card. Now I don't have to sneak in here to write my blogs (sneaking into a library is a trip, let me tell you).
It's been another rather dull week, as I'm still trying my best to make things work. I need a job. Horribly. Luckily, Oregon has some of the best employment services. They actually send me job offers. To my home. It's kinda sweet.
My bedroom almost looks like a bedroom, which is exciting in a medeocritous manner. Currently, it's lacking, but if you don't know what is missing, you probably wouldn't say anything. My room is like a crazy guy who's missing a part of a finger: you don't really say anything about the fact until they feel like talking about it. Hrmmm... that was an odd analogy.
I'll be getting my high-speed interweb in a couple of days, so for all my AIM buddies who read this (and MSN, and Yahoo, and IRC), I'll be back before the end of the week... er, or next Sunday... my brother's birthday's this week.
Gotta go, I need to go buy him a gift.
--Avarice
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| 05.04.04 (12:24 pm) [edit] |
Wow. It's been a while, huh?
Yeah, life has been kinda hectic, as I'm trying to catch up. I'm moved in to my apartment (which I love to death... august will come too soon), fixed my car (mostly), and recorded [i]The Ballad of San Villanueva[/i] and a more in time version of [i]Adios[/i] (formerly "Goodbye, Hawaii"). Oh yeah, and I got a speeding ticket. Woo.
Okay, I am all for the serving and protecting of the people that need serving and protecting... and I do believe in speed limits WHEN THERE ARE PEOPLE ON THE ROAD. Frankly, I don't want someone plowing into the back of my car at 120mph, but if I'm not there, I really don't care how fast he's going. That being said, at 3:30am on Oregon's I-5, there should really be no speed limit, or at least a temporary increase in the max mph, and I don't mean while going through towns, either.
I was watching my speed closely, whenever I was in a town, because there was structures and people that may get hurt, but there are long stretches of road between towns in Oregon, so in these stretches, I normally took up a higher speed as to get me to the next town and to help me stay awake. It was during one of these stretches that I saw the previously unfamiliar blue and red lights in my mirror.
It's rediculous. I'll still pay the fine, because I understand that I broke the law and blah blah blah, but I will still keep thinking that the law is flawed.
Oh well, no reason to complain. It never changes anything.
--Avarice
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