monday morning on a friday night

interpretation and perception are the building blocks of wisdom, intelligence and truth.

it just so happens that the way i interpret and perceive things makes me look like a dumbass.

i want to be that guy in history that does something so profoundly stupid and time stopping that i change the human culture in one fell swoop.

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imagine for a minute, or how ever long it takes you to read this blog.

imagine you are a 8 year old boy growing up in a trailer park full of drunks and failures.

and drunks aren't failures, at least they can say they are doing something with their life – drinking it away.

imagine one day you walk home from school and find your mother being rapped by her boyfriend.

Imagine he stops mid-hump and walks your direction.

imagine he hits you pulls your pants down and begins in on you.

then you grow up after that. remising the fact you were rapped and have trouble in society. being a social recluse and awkward in every conversation you ever have.

imagine not being able to deal with the fact that your past has made you into a turmoil of emotion. mostly anger.

imagine in high school you get beat up everyday for not fitting in with the "cool" kids.

you are an outcast. you know exactly why. but you cant admit it because when you admit it, you would make it okay that your mom's boyfriend rapped you.

finally you literally cant deal any longer and you take a gun to school fire off all your bullets killing those who deserved it and injuring random people you didnt know.

then you pull out your last bullet from your front jacket pocket.

you load the gun, wrap your lips around the barrel and pull the trigger.

weeks later a mug shot of you can be seen on CNN. you are made into the monster you knew you always were. people hate you. thousands who dont even know you wish you to have a wonderful life in hell.

but no one knows your story. no one knows that what you went through makes what you did look like a happy sunday afternoon at a candy store.

instead you are the blame of everything wrong in the world. an excuse for everyone to curse your name. the personification of a scapegoat.

and not a single person, not even you mother who knows what happens, tries to defend you.

even at the funeral where hundreds protest.

imagine for a second that this story wasnt an exaggerated truth of american culture.

welcome to america.

oh, and if you didnt know you will never be truly excepted for who you are. if you dont make a poster-board character that you can act out when talking with your boss, your peers or any stranger that you happen to strike up a conversation with, then fuck off you freak.

america is the only nation with a different personality-outfit for everyday of the year.

happy gluttony and greed day, its august 7th.

welcome to generation i-dont-give-a-fuck.

cosmetic surgery

so i am back from the depths of the sea. went to korea and did what ever it is that we did there. and now i am back in Schwab. running a metal grinder on my forhead out of boredom.

but just for your FYI i didn't ignore my duites as a blog owner and dismiss my responsibility to write. i was just locked out of my gmail account for "mis-use." but now i reset it and everything is back in order.

i had a recent epiphany that no matter what happens with in the next ten years i am going to become a rock star. allbeit i may be playing on a street corner for nickels and dimes. but i will be doing it.

you know how sometimes when you working through out the day or walking somewhere you start talking to your self about all th things that get pushed to the back of your brain. like how you accidently cut yourself shaving that morning or over cooked the eggs or some bullshit like that. well when i have those thoughts it isnt a coherent sentence i here my self speaking to my brain. what i hear is guitar riffs that i could possibly be playing. i here lyrics that would make a mother punch a baby in the face. i hear the future of who i am playing its chorus in my head.

maybe its just been to long since i picked up my guitar. but i definitely have decided a goal for myself.

so get your autographs now ladies.

cause i wont give them out for free later.

its that or become a garbage man.
no one fucks with the garbage man.

but i am really excited to be away from this unit and these people.

its like i got an apartment and got this really sweet roomate. but a month down the road i realized he wasnt that awesome. and three more months down the road you realize you have to stop your self from killing him for not paying his half of the rent, leaving the milk out, eating your frozen dinners, missing the toliet when he pees and doesnt clean up, has obscenely fat people over to eat fast food and pizza and not pick up and then acts like everything that goes wrong that went wrong is your fault.

thats what it has been like to be wit these people.

they are fakes.

like bisquick pancakes.

those things taste like cardboard.

but 9 days.
9 days to a new guitar, being in hawaii and a realization that asking girls out isnt as scary as i think and needs to be done cause this guy can handle the whole no girl thing.

if you know what i mean.

but i miss everyone.

especially you.