The Love Below

You know... attempting a year without hate is like attempting to birth an alien baby. True, it doesn't sound that difficult but did you know that the gestation period for an alien baby in a human womb is upwards of 3 and a half years? Secondly, I am the one birthing the baby and that means I HAVE NO WOMB! So in order to nurture and care for my offspring I must house it in my gut. That's RIGHT! No more mysteries here. Many of you have asked yourselves, "Why did Logan gain 40 lbs. in 4 months after his two year voyage into 'South America' and is still unable to shed the weight?" Well my good friends, it's all in the nature of bearing an alien child. In actuality I never made it to Argentina. Unless you were to convert the word Argentina into numbers and then find the star date and universal location of the same, it would look something like this: 319777E15. Although our human numbers can't really give an accurate reflection of the location, you'll have to put up with what I've shown you. So anyway there I was on this alien planet and I don't really remember much but now I'm pregnant. I guess the point to all of this is that I'm due next month and I'm hoping to have a baby shower. Everyone is invited.

Unable to Relate

i have been known to have this particular type of day. it is the day in which i cannot relate to the rest of the human race. i cannot understand their logic. i cannot understand their motivation. and i cannot understand their selfish, bitter, ungrateful, spiteful, unloving attitude. and maybe the days in which i do understand the majority, i should be worried about myself.

Dialogue

There must be a better way of sharing. A better way of diplomacy. A better way of compromise. I see so much polarity and very little interaction. Is it because "good" and "evil" are parting from each other drastically, or maybe because nobody cares about community? Then once we reach the table of dialogue... How do we actually converse without giving in or being stubborn?

"sometimes i YES when i should KNOW"

the quoted lyrics above aren't even the intention of the artist. i checked their (Drive-By Truckers) site. i have lied to you all. but i will stick with my interpretation of the lyrics. i really like it a lot. the thought behind it is this... THINK-ACT-THINK-ACT. in the past i have followed either the THINK-THINK-THINK-THINK method or the ACT-ACT-ACT method. both are equally destructive. i have destroyed much by using them. now i am exploring the realm of THINK-ACT. it is a very difficult process to learn. you have to do them simultaneously. not only that, but you also have to go clean up the destruction caused by earlier faulty processes. it's like a recall on thoughts, words, and actions. each consumer that has bought any of your products has a right to return to the manufacturer for a repair or a refund. so i'm here to say I'M OPEN FOR BUSINESS. both repairs and refunds will be supplied.

please note: a later recall may be issued when this process is also deemed unable to compete with new technology

I feel a blog coming on... "Not in my kitchen, you don't!"

I am a terribly clever person. I am quite frankly one of the funniest people to ever walk the face of this earth. I swear to you that as I get older my level of hilarity continues to grow. Regardless of these facts and a resume chock full of humorous milestones, there is one person that will never get me. A person very near and dear to me. My very own mother. In recent days I have observed her behavior as I deal card after comical card from my stacked deck. TO NO AVAIL! I always get one of two responses, both of which I find undesirable.
1. The Silent Treatment- She completely ignores that I have split the sides of every human within earshot. She goes on with conversation and whatever else she is doing. This EVEN happens when it is just the two of us talking. I will be in the process of making the funniest and most sarcastic comments that even I have ever heard and she just skips right over them. It's as if she has some sort of chip in her mind that allows her to skip over hilarious content.
2. Bewilderment- You're not going to believe this response. She actually has the nerve to ask me if I'm serious. Part of my humor lies in the extreme nature thereof. Completely false and off the wall statement. THAT IS PURE COMIC GENIUS! And my dear sweet mother asks me questions such as, "When did that happen?" or "Is she ok?" or "Why did you hurt that poor girl with an inkpen AGAIN?" She just doesn't get it.

I am funny, I really am.

Strings of Bling

Everybody these days is flossing their ice and bling blinging. I have come up with a brilliant plan to capitalize on this new market.
I've been drinking a lot of water lately. I'm talking about more than a gallon a day. That's a lot of water, but here's the kicker: I PEE BLING! That's right I'm pissing valuable threads of shiny material. So here's the plan. Continue to drink these absurd amounts of water and as I urninate, I grab these strings of bling (that sounds like a good name for the product, Strings of Bling), somehow make them into a long strand of beauty, and then sell them. Really the only part I haven't worked out yet is how to make them solid. But I imagine turnging a liquid to a solid can't be that difficult. People will totally go for a shiny necklace like these. I can see a lot of people trying to compete with me... but I'll be the O.S.B. Anybody want to preorder?

Two Things

One: Three days, Three Showers.

Two: Why do people send thankyou emails? I hooked you up. End of story. Don't litter my inbox with false apreciation, or real appreciation for that matter. Tell me thanks when you see me. Never tell me anything at all. When you have something useful to tell me you can attach a thankyou to that.

The End

I've got the remedy (no Jason Mraz not you, this is the Prodigy)

continued... The elevator rose at a steady pace for three floors and then jolted up two more floors before coming to a crushing halt which knocked me to my knees. As the elevator settled, I felt the cables strain to support the weight of the freight elevator. "What did you bring me daddy?" were the haunting words that echoed through the small opening between the elevator doors. I stood up to peer through the small crack. A room that looked like a warehouse, lots of windows, filthy with time and neglect, and a dust carpet two or three inches thick. "Daddy come play!" This time I swore the voice was in my head. I bent down to inspect the damage of the fall on my body. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a disturbance in the dirty light coming through the windows. You know that game you play when you stare at someone till they look at you? Remember how you feel when they do that to you? Yeah... that's it... somewhat uncomfortable and uneasy. Someone watching you, possibly the creepiest feeling available to human senses. Who ever was creating these voices and calling me daddy was piercing into my soul with their stare, yet I couldn't see him. The sweat always starts on my lower back and on my forehead. Panic scurried across my body. Pushing all the buttons at once and thrashing around in the elevator only caused the fear to increase. The elevator bounced much too easily and made horrific squeaking sounds. There was only one way out. I pried my fingers between the doors and pushed outward as hard as my weakened dream-like strength would allow me. The doors slid open with a startling ease. My feet sunk into the dust as I emerged from the elevator. To be continued...

I've got the poison

There I laid, for what seemed like the 37th day of my never-ending bedridden existence. I thought and thought and thought. The great thing about being sick is that it forces thought. Voluntary movement is limited because it just hurts too much and daytime television definitely can't be watched. In between feverish and uncomfortable naps are these inevitable silent moments of thought, staring at the ceiling and wondering, "Who really likes the color white anyway?" For three days I wondered whether I was dreaming, living, or wishful thinking. My little baby niece (that cannot speak yet) talked to me, I hung out with a friend of mine that lives 2,000 miles away, and I went spelunking. Nothing like a fever to alter your mind. At an earlier point in my poison, I was trapped in an abandoned apartment building. If I actually knew what the projects were like I could say that's where I was. There was an elevator in this building that was locked with big chains and padlocks. As I aimlessly wandered around the building, I stumbled upon a pair of heavy duty bolt cutters. You know the kind that look like shears. Being guided by the poison, the logical next step was to take the bolt cutters and cut the locks off the elevator. Beyond the clanking of heavy chains on the floor I faintly heard the delicate footsteps of a small child. It's never a good sign when you can see yourself making "horror movie" mistakes. Curiosity DID kill the cat and I'm completely comfortable in saying that the cat deserved whatever horrible death it had to endure. Even so, as curious as that same cat, I boarded the elevator to investigate the echoing noises. To be continued...

i'm embarrassed for myself

ok today is the day. i have to come out about some of my deepest, darkest secrets. why do i have to do this? NO IDEA. Here it goes:

1. Music- I listened to the New Kids. Yes Moses that is NKOTB to you. I listened to Richard Marxx, Debbie Gibson, and maybe even Tiffany, although i've blocked most of that out. I rocked MC Hammer, Vanilla Ice, and Kriss Kross. I even had tapes of ABC and HI-Five. I think I am coming to these realizations because today I am listening to Iron Maiden. I missed out on rock n' roll while I was pop rocking around.

2. Literature (if you can call it that)- I read almost the entires series of Baby Sitter's Club. I also read the Mormon Girly Novel Series. Titles like Charly and Mandy (maybe).

3. Toys- I played with Barbies. Usually in conjunction with GI Joes or scissors, but i did play with Barbies.

I place the blame upon my older sister mostly. But then... it was ok for her to like all these things. So I must return the blame to myself.

dreams of drowning

WARNING: two dirty words, the dirtiest of dirty

you're following too close behind
why don't you just pass?
and you're falling too close in front
this middle finger still means f**k you
still the finger barely scratches the surface
where those wonderful lies seem real
only because they won't tell how they feel
but i know, oh i do know
deep down inside
they are just like you and i
just wanting and waiting to die
i can't talk enough to answer all their frowning
they wouldn't want to hear that i dream of drowning

drowning while i hold your hand
let's go away again
let's go on that trip in the making
it'll take forever
it's the last chance to calm my shaking
but never be enough to take me far enough away

everything is better under warm covers
so when we go down let's hope that water is warm
please you have to come with me this time
there's plenty of room for two
all my doubts will be complete
and your tears won't matter underneath
just two bright smiles
and more than enough miles
to resolve our worst fears
maybe you don't want to hear i dream of drowning

drowning while i hold your hand
let's go away again
let's go on that trip in the making
it'll take forever
it's the last chance to calm my shaking
but never be enough to take me far enough away

lack of sleep has beat me for the last time
and your hand keeps slipping out of mine
i'll be on my way now
don't come following too close
or falling in front
because this finger still means f**k you
i should've known i was going too far
for anyone to follow
this road is much too long
and colder than i remembered
my violent shaking hands and endless doubts
never went away
nobody will ever hear that i ever dream of drowning

when it rains, it pours

a bad day is in order every now and then. you have to have a bad one to appreciate the good ones. today is that day. it's like the worst things that could happen, happen. just yesterday bobby, haagy, and i were discussing how we can't get rid of the bitter cold winter because the warmth of summer wouldn't be as enjoyable. i love the opposition. for all of you reading that know me, don't believe that today is bad because of things happening personally to me. it's not me... it's everyone around me... and my cursed empathy is what makes the day bad for me.

"bury his body in the ol' sinkhole, bury his body in the ol' sinkhole." -DBT

the tragedy of hate

hate is tragic... don't let it eat you like a swine

Maybe i still am emo

maybe i am obsessive. maybe i still do find romance in odd things like a suicide. if we didn't hear it in his music, elliot smith left no doubt to us that his heart was in pain. i mean honestly, if you are going to committ suicide due to heartbreak... this would be the way to do it. depression and drugs are a very dangerous thing. god rest his crying soul. RIP ES 1969-2003... he stabbed himself in the heart

Postal Service

If you've been around myself or the beatsmith lately you've probably heard us mention the postal service. Great music and, as made evidence by this article on Pitchforkmedia.com, very clever little political buggers as well. Jam their stuff, rock it in your head. It'll make you want to write a song. Electronica making love with indie pop. I can't stop listening.

the temporary death

i wrote you a letter
although i knew much more than better
by the time i was done you had already left
and i was alone again with the temporary death
nobody would know it's not a novelty
he's the only one that can stomach my love's poverty
and why can't it keep a roof overhead?
in not so many words my heart is dead
but i didn't do it on purpose
the truth is when i shot, i missed
when the metal was gone
i had to keep swinging
i had to keep filling those buckets you were bringing
because i know you wouldn't hit first
even if worse did come to worst
and that's when it died
because i forgot to let go and i tried

the is one of my circles that i don't want to complete
but the ends always seem to meet
it happened before when i wrote her a letter
and maybe then i didn't know any better
she was gone too
just like you
but i had to finish the race
what if somewhere at the end i did see her face?
i never did and i never will
i will never feel
because i always hit first and start the fight
then it gets dark because you turn off the light
when morning comes and i finally see
you were never there i was just fighting me

that's when i started thinking that it would probably be best
if i laid down to rest
now i know that is the temporary death
we've come to get along quite well
although when it started it was like dreaming in hell
i think those are called nightmares to the masses
to me it's just how the time passes
some up, a lot of down
a few smiles and no tears to drown
don't let them tell you change doesn't happen overnight
because it does and you do and i won't
it does and you do and i can't

The Smithsonians

Due to the high activity and commenting i've opened up a message board and forum. Please if you aren't already a member or haven't received an email from me, petition me for membership, you will be accepted. The blogs will be used as topic mining fields so don't forget to keep your blogs alive.

IT TAKES A VILLAGE

now that i have your attention, i have a few words to say. first of all i want to thank all of you for being part of this blog community we have started. specifically those of you that have blogs: shaniqua, moses, haagy, and dotty inc. the ss has risen to new levels in our recent debates. prayer parties, religious culture vs. doctrine, love not hate, sleeping in too late like the children of israel and worshipping golden calves (spelling? i know all you grammar/spelling zealots out there will correct me as soon as i make a mistake so please feel free to help me out with that one). secondly, i used to shy away from opposing views, arguments, and heated debates and the questions they sparked in my head... but now i know that the more questions that are sparked the more answers i will find.

You know you've made it when...

ok everyone we've got some new links up. let's give them some congratulatory comments, specifically i'd like some comments on shaniqua's "i'm too lazy to get out of bed before 10" post. moses is entering a new era, but be warned this blog contains explicit content, those that are easily offended might want to stay away, that'll probably get more of you there. enjoy and remember... it's LOVE this year, not HATE.

the dream is over

the year has ended, the year has begun. what was a life of dreaming and fantasy has now been replaced by a new life, the new era. i believe it's called dreams in action. it consists of actually working towards the dream as opposed to dreaming the dream. the dream has now become larger than life itself. i have spent a long time dreaming up this dream. the problem with only dreaming is the dream gets bigger and further away because it's never accompanied by action. now back on earth i look for the dream, it appears to be the moon or maybe another celestial body. a little more difficult than i thought it might be, but it's a lot easier getting there by traveling towards it rather than letting it get bigger and more distant. welcome to 2004 everyone. i hope we learn to love each other a little more, and hate a lot less. down with hate!