the black looms above like the roiling
beasts of the dustbowl south
the city on fire, lit up in pinpricks
and out there, far in the distance, lies a
mother’s thighs, mountains and clouds
driving a mound of pumpkin and green
down towards the sunlight that died
in a perfect moment of amazement
I just wrote! Yay!
a white wall blasting across
this smooth shaven land
extending below like frosting, a sweet
cream cheese coating over this
desert land –
a druid frost miles out and always
here, right here
obscuring the deepest parts of a
dry, rocky, but soft,
sweet and fluffy
like ancient marbled chocolate,
the betty crocker eternal
left for us to gorge on
as we gaze into the west
I glance out after a pause
and the icing is gone!
hidden away like a winter’s summer dreams
beneath an iron shroud of white
beating ever closer, ever faster east
and it, like a belated thunderstorm
oozes the stench of ancient parchment
and pulls me back to simpler times
the snow becoming a real fog, mist of the morning
as I dance along the edge of the world
the solid brownblack cliffs melting away
into a void of nothing
true Italian point of no return
over the drop
and as this squall still crawls along
closer as the keyboard clicks and the clock does tick
it seems the season is of black and white
white like the silver sun, black like the rocks
the hot, clean shades of light, love,
and pure bright dreams
all ignorant of time, distance, and the
trappings of boundaries –
instead they all fuse together and bind
in a common vision of holy love
a shared feeling of bliss
Alas, i fucking hate feeling like this! When i enter this state i just turn inward so fucking strongly, and i get quiet, and introspective, and it sucks the big motherfucking dick because that's not who i am anymore! i mean, granted, it's an aspect of me, but over the years it's waned so much, and the extrovert aspect of me has built up, come forward, and become a larger part of who i am. So to be revisited by the reclusive aspect of me is weird, and seems awfully left field, and sucks.
I should just move to Ecuador or something similar. I think a lot of it has to do with the weather; when it gets cold and what not i find myself staying inside so much more, and perhaps that causes me to reflect so much. It gives me time to ponder on things i don't mull over during the summer, as i'm not spending my time poking around on the mountain bike, staying out till all hours stargazing, or jogging, or causing any other such outdoor mayhem. Simply, i have some time to burn during these colder days, and i usually burn that time by thinking of shit, sometimes good things, sometimes bad things. But nonetheless thinking... which will drain a person. And i feel so fucking burnt out - it blows! What gets me the most is that i feel i should be so much more energetic... in regards to the whole trip out here for the week. Not only did i spend $288 plus take time off without pay to come out here and see kris and zan, i don't get to see them a whole lot, and have absolutely no idea whatsoever when i'll be out to see them again. So i'd like to make this trip the most it can be... and i can't seem to do that, i feel, cause i've been feeling so blah, so drained, and so fucking introspective that i can't seem to be my authentic self. It's been really weighing on me, and i mean, i know i'm being authentic and shit, but i don't feel like i am. All it seems like i want to do is sleep, and just fall away from it all ... like it doesn't matter one fucking bit what i do, what i experience... cause i can't even process it, i'm only experiencing it, but it feels like it's meant to be processed, meant to be felt in a deeper manner, but i'm simply too spiritually and emotionally fried to do so.
If nothing else it's just made me feel a bit edgier than normal, which is also something i'm not too fond of. Alas, that feeling tends to come and go, so it's nothing too extreme or major or anything like that. I simply wish that i was more charged up, and could be a bit more entertaining. Perhaps for whatever reason, though, it's not in the flow for me to be so, however.
I just work here, man. I wave the hooves.
But i suppose i shall bid you, my reader, farewell for now. There's talk of watching a movie, but zanny seems awfully tired, and i am too, so i may just listen to what my body's telling me and hit the sack. We'll see what Kris thinks. Have an awesome night, and sleep like the dead (but dream of good stuff while you're at it!).
Oh, i went vegan last night, too!
Have a fun night, reader, and go seize the night like the motherfucker you are!
Quite why this is i'm not too sure. One thing i've noticed is that during the months of November to February i enter a pretty weak state, both physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I tend to be a person that's rooted so very strongly in the pools of energy that the summer brings, and the winter months simply go against those energies, contrasting the warm, fragrant summer nights with bleakly bitter cold winter days. Simply, i love to be outdoors, and it's just to damned cold during the winter for most of my Goat-like tastes. So i find myself cooped up indoors, which gives me quite a lot of time to reflect upon myself and my past. Reflection can be a good thing, but as always, like anything, in moderation. When it gets to be something that becomes the primary focus of one's time (usually for me at night, while laying in bed...) it sucks; it draws the energy from you like a fucking sponge, soaking up the white happiness and general joy that pours form your soul, and leaves you a hollow husk that can't help but feel empty and tired.
But as always I look on the bright side of things. The days are getting longer again! In short order it will be warming back up, and before I know it, i'll be hopefully packing the u-haul and moving out to this place, this land that fucking captured me the day i saw it. But even before that, i'll be heading out to guatemala in less than a month! Word on the street is that it's usually a balmy 75-80 during January, so i can't fucking wait to run around in my shorts, like Goats should be able to do year-round. And two years ago, when my uncle went, he had a chance to go mountain biking through the jungle at Tikal. ohhhhhhhhhhhh my fucking god dude, if i could do that i'd fucking die on the spot, seriously. I have a severe need to go cycling again (hell, even if it's spin class... anyone in Bismarck want to join up at the Y with me??) ... and if i could go biking in fucking guatemala i'd be the happiest Goat alive, i think.
Almost as happy as i'd be seeing U2 in Ireland or spending three weeks in New Zealand or seeing Rush up in Toronto, or visiting the Guiness brewery (or Fuller's in London, too, dear lord), or visting Tibet, or India, or doing my first century (100-mile road ride).
And then there's this whole idea of going back to get my master's degree, probably either in History or Geography. I bet i could teach a mean history course or two... just as long as i can refrain from swearing like a rum-fed sailor.
I fear i must go tap some oatmeal, however, so i bid you farewell for now, reader. Have a pleasant Sunday! Go outside and do something that brings a smile to your face.
I awoke, then, feeling really fucking sick. I half considered not even going into the office, but i wanted to leave my database conversion project in a somewhat finalized state before i left for nine days to Salt Lake City. All i really had to do was hook up the user interface to it, and i was able to knock that off in a few hours this morning. After I did that i still felt a bit off kilter so i decided to say fuck it and head home so i could rest up a little; i'd hate to go down to SLC and get sick!
As of right now, i seem to be feeling better, though, which rocks. I'm going to go score a little chow, i think, and then head over to Mandan to get a larger suitcase from my folks. Then commences the packing! I'm not too sure what i'll bring, but i usually travel light so i'm not terribly worried about this afternoon endeavor taking hours upon hours. Then tonight evidently a bunch of my friends are meeting at Paradiso for my friend Katie's birthday. I'd love to go, but i had made plans last week with Val to go out to the Walrus for dinner, so who knows what'll be in store for the Goat tonight. I'll still be chilling with Val no matter what (unless she can't make it for some reason, or something) but perhaps she'd want to go to Paradiso instead.
It's just strange how it totally doesn't seem like i'm going to Salt Lake tomorrow; the denial is still set like fucking steel and razorwire. I don't think it'll really hit me until i get to denver international or slc proper. My god, nine days! I won't know what to do with myself!
But i shall keep you updated on my conquests, reader, for i fear i'll be raising hell beyond description. If i get a chance i'll pop on and leave a few tiny chronicles of my wicked Utah ways. I bid you farewell for this moment, reader, since i'm starving, and must feed. Have a pleasant Thursday afternoon and go eat something special.
alas, back to coding with me. have the best of days, reader!
I'll be back Sunday, i think, after taking a detour through the northern part of the state to take some photographs, should time allow. Have the best of Thursdays, reader, and a wonderful weekend!
Being veggie rocks for a whole veritable assload of reasons, one being of course the fact that i'm playing a small part (albeit indirectly) in reducing the amount of animal cruelty that takes place within our nation and world, a thing many people - myself for 23 years included - didn't think about a whole lot. We tend to live unconsciously a lot of the time, sort of meandering through our daily trivialities, never really stopping to "smell the roses", so to speak, and sadly, rarely stopping to think outside the box about some of the things we do. After exposure to the works of certain groups like PETA and Compassion Over Killing, seeing what today's farm animals are treated like, and seeing the fucking deception they spin, how they pull the wool over our eyes like so many American sheep, I simply couldn't continue supporting such an institution.
Plus, it makes me feel good! Aside from feeling better on a spiritual/emotional level, meat always fucking made me feel like ass... just sluggish as hell and down, really slow, and just generally blah. I never cared much for pork, and beef was sort of there, i guess, okay, but nothing special. I will miss chicken and seafood dearly (my poor smoked salmon...) - but again, after reaching a level of consciousness that i simply hadn't opened myself up to in the past, I just couldn't bring myself to continue doing it. At first of course i was a bit concerned that i'd not have a lot of things to eat - i ate meat and animal products so much that i'd been conditioned into this routine of turkey sandwiches, burgers, chicken breasts, sausage pizza, and more. 86'ing those from my diet forced me to look at all the shit that i've been missing out on, and it's phenomenal. I've been eating so many more fresh things lately, and so many more tofu and soy products ... it rocks! I've always loved cooking, and this presents such a new and exciting challenge. I fucking love it! Although i'm not a bona-fide vegan yet, i try my best to stay on that course, and cooking tasty vegan food fucking hauls insane amounts of ass, because it's such a departure from my prior way of cooking, which was often highly meat and animal-product focus. When i can pull off a fucking kick-ass rice pudding, or coconut curry green bean stir fry, or bread pudding (mmm!) or, hell, vegan garlic & rosemary mashed potatoes, vegan stuffing, and vegan "chicken" gravy, it kicks so much ass, because it gives me a wee bit of hope that i can still cook like a mad mother fucker and be veggie/vegan at the same time! boo-ya!
yay for being compassionate and eating like a Goat!
In other news, though, as of about an hour ago, i'm $366.41 further in debt, but... the Altima has new tires! Cooper Touring SLE's, and dude, now i'm back on the road! (so to speak)... so next weekend, hide the women and children, cause goat's returning to fargo to pillage like a fucking warrior straight out of Viking lore.
Alas, for now, i should get cracking on a certain little project for a certain little Miss Kris, since i'll be giving it to her soon, on Christmas, when i get to see her and Zanny in SLC for nine days! Hell fucking yeah!!! It's going to be so much goddamned fun. Have a pleasant, beautiful saturday afternoon, reader.
This shall be interesting.... but loads of fun! I'm highly excited.
Have a good one, reader!
It's times like these i wish i had more bananas and some Slayer. Alas.
other than that, today hasn't been all that bad, although i'm getting really burned out from work i think. Tonight i was just dead, and ended up napping for awhile, nursing a somewhat off-kilter stomach. Alas, i just have one more hour to do tonight, and tomorrow's nine hours, and then i'm off for a day on Thursday - for thanksgiving, of course. This should prove a bit interesting since it's my first vegetarian T-day, and i reckon most of the family will still be a bit perplexed at the fact i won't have any turkey, gravy, stuffing, taco salad (a staple on my mom's side of the family), etc.
sorry... no more turkey, bacon, and other assorted dead creatures for the Goat. :) just pumpkin pie and taters! mmmmm and cranberry sauce, fuck yeah dude.
I hope you have the most pleasant of nights, reader, and when you slip into slumber this night, dream of the first time you went nuts as a child and had two fucking packets of hot chocolate mix in one mug, instead of the plain, wussy, watery single packet ... and remember how blissful that was. Goodnight, guys.
take my hand and let’s stroll
a bit further down this path
let the trees flanking us blend with the land
in a slow-motion blur
while the seashell vapor trails scud overhead
in a fury of urgent retreat
each carving eccentric courses
painted by an idiot’s scattered hand
connecting a million nowhere points
in the silence
and behind that silent place
underneath your vision
notice that little flame, how it whispers orange
like the west this hour
and oh, how it makes you feel young!
so let’s stop for a time
can you still recall how we laughed
under the blue as children,
our knees dusty in the sun?
do you remember?
to us those marshmallow lines in the sky
and the dreams they wept
were hidden away for our later years
but we noticed the grass
and how raw it smelled beneath our heels –
we were young and we noticed the grass!
but many a tick has tocked since then
so pick up with me now and move farther
along this tiny ribbon in the grass
because in this tale we are always young
still shackled and bound by awe
on a green rug of wonder
of this afternoon is a pale
one, bland like steamed dirt
and bitter like bile,
the dead land and weakened sky
swirling together in the contrasting flight
that streaks towards the bigger city
and the bolder life
which holds its colors close
and guards them like a child -
so much spicemusic we never hear
in a land of English cuisine!
all our ethnicity drains away
into the urban scene
leaving only us,
the remnants of today,
bangers and mash
I'd write more, reader, but poor Goat is starving! Being of the vegetarian persuasion i've been munching as many good foods as i can, such as spinich and what not, in an attempt to score some more nutrients ... and i have a fierce amount of leafy greens downstairs that are screaming to be made into a salad so i may eat them, in rather short order. So off i go! Have a pleasant night, reader, and dream sweetly tonight.
(oh, i wrote something just now, too! nothing too grand, but mayhap it will get me back in the flow to write; something that i haven't felt strongly in a week or two, much to my dismay.)
the gilded eve
in this moment
I’ll let my fingers breathe fire
and my words drip air, because
in the silence of the night
I know you’re
peeking over my shoulder with a smile
as I weave this life together
thread after thread
and I feel your hands on mine
as I stitch the soft cotton
time the hidden spinster, creating without end
you see from a sea
of fluff and fabric
to tuck us in under these icy skies
and soften the blow of enormous days
a quilt to blanket the land
and ease us into the night
so tonight and forever
I bid you stay
for this feels like home,
and oh the fire’s
So... once again, my inherent grace fails me and i've landed myself with a twisted ankle.
It's not really all that bad, but it does hurt like a bitch when i'm walking around; so hence the injury i've decided to take a breather and chill out at home today. I did keep myself productive, though, and did a few hours of work, cleaning up the code for my program at work (which, mind you, gets installed Tuesday afternoon in Dickinson - that should be interesting!). I also napped, which is always kick-ass, and talked to zanny and the lobster, which is always kick-ass as well.
Then i found myself fiending to write. Thing is, i feel real fucking looped out, and in pain from my damned casualty of war, so to speak, so the writing just wouldn't come - and it pissed me off! I hate how your body will get in the way sometimes and block what you want to do. Such as write, or go out and be active (incidentally i also felt a strong desire to go mountain biking today, but that was obviously cut... grr!). What i was able to write, however, touched on that feeling - that feeling of desparation, hopelessly ruled by forces somewhat out of our control - pain and spaciness.
Now, yeah, of course i didn't have to get trashed beyond all belief and fall up the only two fucking stairs in the entire house, but hey - it was fun! (the partying part, not the twisting of the ankle and resultant icing via mixed vegetables.)
I'm going to go score some chow, ah reckon, since perhaps that will get me back into the world of the living. Have a fine rest of the evening, reader, and when you slip beneath the covers this night, dream sweetly.
beneath the cloth
steal this shroud from my face
that veils my thoughts from my fingers
and drains my smiles through the
open hole of my pain, that
gaping void which drinks my tears
like a parched camel dying in the sand
grasp it and bid me feel!
because I’m lost again
in one of those elusive hideaways
where the body lets you know
it’s still around –
where mortality opens its eyes
takes a breath
and screams like a newborn babe
leaving you helpless in welcoming the pain
with arms tightly closed
and a face set in iron we greet it –
behold the cunning visitor that whisks away
our tragedy and comedy!
mark how it wraps its icy travelling-salesman fingers
around your gut, twisting
sending the ache sliding up your spine
in drops of sticky fire
and see with eyes wild
how it so easily trades places,
leaving your mind outside on the stoop
as it steps into your home’s evening glow
alas, left to weather another night
under the stars abandoned
"You are spontaneous and love kisses and affection from the ones you love."
"You have a lot of love and friendships in your life"
"The year will go very well for you and you will discover that you fall in love with someone totally unexpected."
"Your life will take on a different direction, it will seem hard at the time but will be the best thing for you, and you will be glad for the change."
"Dustin is my best friend."
"This is how many close friends you have in your lifetime. (i chose 16)"
"You like adventure."
"You are loyal to your friends and your lover and are very reserved."
very interesting... :)
Have a wonderful, peaceful night, reader!
oil the color of death
collects in pools
on top of silver-hot
iron, the heat sandblasting my face
into betrayed crimson,
but it sits too long and scorches
the nostrils nervously tasting the stench of burning
in thunderheads of whipping acrid white
battle-cry of straining climbs and
the one you’re deaf to, but
oh you can smell and see
and before my eyes it’s a scene
washed in grays, golds, smeared engine grease
and I find myself again a bit lost
in a faraway dream, wearing the helmet
of a roman warrior and riding the battlefields
under a bloated Gaulish sun
exacting my shining pearl hatred
on everything alive dead and barely slithering
gleefully leaping from my warhorse
and crushing beneath my steel heels
life and love
in a sea of red
while I laugh –
laugh like a madman
against a sky of blood
and an earth covered in sorrow
empty save for my raspy cackles
and those dead beneath me
it’s something I’d rather
cast back under the rug
but sometimes, oh how the wind will blow
and flare those tiny flames!
scorching the edge of the carpet and
revealing a bit of grease, and maybe
a tiny pool of black oil,
the tiniest voice of a world going out
why not let this surround us?
cast off your clothes of iron
and your hat of molasses
and jump naked into this pool!
let the cool ocean slip around you
and wash away the doubts that
fill your heart and tie you down
like a rough rope to the dirt
the water’s quite warm; come in
for a spell! Here we’ll fill the roll
of fishes in the sea and fall back
to our primitive selves; we’ll
breathe under the water in this new place
with the ease of gods dining on the clouds
and we’ll travel the leagues on
wings of gold
and when we tire of the swim,
Beneath us and around us there
really is a current, a force drawing us farther
like a black meteor caged in so much
a simple box in the desert
and let this current bear us to faraway
fanciful places, ancient cities and
where the water is always smooth
and the wind sweet, a trace of
nutmeg on the breeze
fall in with me!
I’ll even hold your hand,
guide you and help lift you out, at the end
if only you’d see
how warm this pool is under the sun!
how it glides like a whisper of silk against
and runs like smiling dreams
across your face
it was your birthday, this week
and I didn’t come
I didn’t come ‘cause I’m still lost
amiss in the fog
like a once-druid now ostracized that
runs in slow motion in the mist on the docks
that lie in prairies of gray, lands of stone
worlds of oceanblue and ambient lovelight
that all ebbs and seems compelled to fade
against its strongest
oh, it won’t fade
but it will
and if I could come to you in this vortex
I would; I know I’m there
but I’m welded shut in the clouds and
rooted to this place in this coastal soup
so much white and so much silence
to distance myself from you and
it only brings us closer
it never left, but that mist it closes
back in around me tonight as a tighter shroud
and in its depth I see your smile
and that rough laugh;
each light that swims in the gray
is the light of a thousand trains
that pass us by in the night
each the heart of those eternal traveling tales
you spun on the notes of a spanish guitar
next to the tracks
the steel that reminds me forever of the sunrise
and calls out with open arms
the journey your gray hair on the wind
for peter r. savenko, grandfather
it’s moments like these when I
begin to wonder exactly why
marooned on a tiny speck
in the cosmos
with only a few like souls
this place where aggression
confuses, makes me shake
leaves me filled with cobwebs and
the color of black rotten
after the spring thaw
their dark sweetness the scent
of misunderstood mistrust
and mistaken impressions bent
a melting, dead world
that only touches the surface, no inward lament
only shallow images, no perception of depth
where water doesn’t splash
and leaves won’t press
beneath your sneakers
and the sun won’t flirt with your hair
no, here, it’s all as you see it
and never as you mean it
life a mere television, shooting star
in the space we share
And someone fucking stole my Kerry/Edwards sign last night. I'm pissed! But i think i can get a new one at the Labor Temple this afternoon. If not, i'm fucking making my own, i don't care. At least i got a Dorgan sign today, Mike Liffrig's opponent. Liffrig = nutcase, Dorgan = someone who gets us jobs and helps this state, actually. hmm...
have a good afternoon, reader!
But it's time for me to indeed hit the sack. I hope you've had an excellent night, reader, and that you're staying safe and not raising too much hell. Or else i may be forced to hunt you down and join you. Sleep well, and dream sweetly.
at the close of the day
how I feel -
soft, like a blanket in the hay
or so much down in
the pillows that I keep
it’s the warmth from a winter hearth
that sticks and mixes with a
touch of floating that hints at
this intoxicating melodic
that hurls you down the highway
and around the bend
at a blurry pace
on the wings of a furiously calm angel
as we ride a red-eyed, eighteen hour
caffeine-fueled expedition to nowhere
so blow out the candles
and float into the black with me
o lord tonight
tuck me in beneath
your stars, let your wind
breathe o’er me like
my mother’s words as I gazed
into her eyes as a babe
and mayhap, if it please you,
let your tears fall on me
like my father’s, restrained and released
in heartfelt sorrow
and let your morning light caress my face
like a lover’s touch, nothing lighter
in the world
a soft glance of compassion, tangible
such as are the snowflakes I bid you send
when it all ends
and I ask in my final words
"can I go again? Just once?"
death passes her by
strobe flashing white streak screaming
and all she can do
is look up and smile
on this charcoal afternoon
made perfect for errands
soft Irish music
and sofa-bound excursions
to distant bookish destinations
it might even be a good time for
but certainly not smiling,
most certainly not
as the ambulance speeds
past the beaming shadow of
a woman lost
but i feel like writin' some more of that thar poetry, so ah reckon i'll-a do that. Have a good one, reader, and stay smilin'!
on the way to Mecca
in this mist I walk ahead
of the pack
a druid in the forest draped in a bonewhite chant
beneath my steps the concrete lies cold, draped
in a sheet of rain, reflected light
dripping from streetlights a thousand miles away
but my memories and eyes tell me, encouragingly,
it’s only a short walk
however, to my smiling heart and featherweight soul
it seems like a
as I walk these old paths in this old city
that pulses and teems with purple anticipation for the
upcoming baptismal on first and seventh -
a thousand souls washed
clean tonight in the soft tears of an acoustic guitar
restraint – it’s out of the question
this fire draws me in like a sullen moth
looking for release
so I walk faster
feet slipping on the rain-slick sidewalk
full in the knowledge that
sometimes the inside wait is
painful endless forever
like the feeling of time ticking by in days
as your plane empties in the night
you’re stuck in the back
feet trapped in molasses two feet deep
that’s eight years old and smells faintly
of that life you left behind
just a few hours ago
the wait, yes, oh its long
it is forever
but in my church I’d wait forever
for just one second of backlit blues notes,
a sweaty, searing, red and yellow solo,
or a common glance of thankful recognition
after the applause
that wait’s nothing
and I could run forever beneath the floating soul
of the city dark and alive
but it’s only a block away
and I know my pack will catch me
Sadly, though, actually writing this tonight is a bit more challenging than i initially thought. Over lunch poor Goat cut himself with the fucking Wüsthof bread knife! I don't know what the hell i did, but i must have been really excited at the prospect of chomping down on these morningstar farms spicy black bean veggie burgers that i just bought last night, since the knife literally leaped out of my hand and did this tiny little dance on the end of my left pinky finger. And ooo did that bleed like so much a stuck pig... thankfully, though, it didn't hurt a lot. It just makes typing a royal pain in the ass, because i use that finger to hit the left shift and control keys. For some reason i never got in the habit of using the right-side set of them, and it's not so bad now, but when i'm coding it blows the ass, since you're using CTRL a lot, cutting and pasting code and using IntelliSense in Visual Studio. Alas, i pulled through, adjusted my typing rhythm, and all was well with the world.
So now i find myself refecting on the fact that even with a slightly crippled typing hand, it's a fine wednesday night in goat-land. I'm totally stoked that i'll be not only seeing the Old 97s on friday night in my old stomping grounds - Minneapolis - but i'll be seeing Cake, too, on Saturday! I can't fuckin' wait! This will be my fourth time seeing the boys from Sacramento, and goddamn, it'll be such a motherfucking off-the-hook experience - front-row center, hanging out with John and Vince and the rest of the crew, rocking out, lost in a complete wave of concert bliss. Shows are really one of the most spiritual experiences for me, and to see two shows at the First Ave will haul ass. Of all the venues i've been at, i just love it - too, because of it's location in the city, close to O'Donovan's irish pub, the Fine Line, the Rock Bottom Brewery (home of the most insane fucking nachos ever) ... it all culminates to make the First Ave one of my top places for worship.
Concerts are so integral to me that venues are, in all essence, churches to me - so much more than our culture's normal houses of worship. If you've never been to a show at Red Rocks in Morrison, Colorado, reader, and are of the concertgoing persuasion, do yourself a favor and go; it'll fucking fry your circuits like nothing else.
I suppose i should go get ready, though, and make myself halfways presentable should dustin call shortly. Have a fine rest of the night, reader, and as you lay in rest tonight, dream sweetly.
have a pleasant night, reader.
out of the black
as the rain comes I
tonight is the finest night
a shadowed october evening
a generous touch of winter
what ought to be a silent drama
finds itself mingled with
the secretive flavors
of an angry, mischievous god
a storm draws near and
I find myself ensnared
rapt, held close
by this moment
as I gaze in childish awe from my
perfect vantage point
high and dry
above the valley and the city below
as I stand
closer now the light flashes deep
and eternity thunders across the land
time endless mere minutes in the west
it makes me feel ancient, like parchment dragged
across the seas
and millions of degrees
loosely sealed between never-ending
starry cricket nights and bone-dead winter days
those tormented insane fickle movietheather whiteblue
flashing in chaotic pulses
as the flood lets loose a staccato assault
on my shed’s thin tin skin
heaven’s anger dealt out in a
teary shotgun blast
and as quickly come
leaving only the soft rain
as a fading reminder of a war long passed
the last adrenal skirmish between the seasons
remembered in the soft whispers of the crying night
right now it’s all about
and letting this rhythm
carry me to you
as it once did
the feeling of a magnet drawing
my soul to this church beneath the steel
of a million men in a million years
that felt the same love
that I once felt
but nothing like this, you the iron I the
that draws us in like this african trance
that I follow, as it draws me in
a mother holding her daughter’s hand
leading in a forest of dark green shadows
and timeless golden sunlit memories
both places churches of my god
both places within us sacred forever
bound to the very blood that flows
in our hearts
and the electricity that fires
in our fingertips our toes our eyes
like god staring down from the clouds
so let’s stop and share these tears
a soft rain from the heavens
falling from our eyes
home of our gods
fall into my arms again
and worship life
in this holiest of lands
the land of spirit of soul of existence of transcendence
the no-man’s land of you and I
in that inch
only you and I share
between our eyes
screaming and rocking and sweating
it flies through us
the beat pulsing
like an engine on fire in the sunset
life on the wings of god
alpha and omega and all between
ripping and tearing
us into one
while the sky breathes above
in a soft whisper
like a metal crunch double-bass warlord onslaught
worlds turning in your eyes
as it all streams over in out between and through
exploding in blue
baking in the ageless heat of eternity
Hope ya'll've had a most righteous, shit-kickin Wednesday, fellas.
I reckon i'll go listen to u2's Electrical Storm a second time...
morning comes and
floating as I do
sixteen inches above the gray in the black
I drift east towards a horizontal fire
I go dim close my eyes turn back inside
as electronica repetition merges with
to that soft place where we
stopped the world
released its pressure
and let it all
like silent moonlight
I’m bringing it all back in the silence
thrash about on a late summer night
drunk and dumb after
which arrived fashionably late
and departed a little too soon
leaving the guests wanting
it streams over me like the
moonlight, the light that dances on my skin
and flows through my hair like silk
spun from the lips of an oracle
and as I sail forth, eyes shut,
gripping the wheel tempting death in the dawn
I feel the trees smear past and stars streak above
painting the periphery –
and that, too, is this feeling
as a single knowing caress
Also, I'm simply tired, and awfully sad, too. Yet so fucking happy at the same time; and that's what's so different about all this, why i've never felt anything like this - i should be bawlin' my damned eyes out (shit, i mean, my girl just went back home, and for all intensive purposes it might be quite awhile before i get to see her face to face again) - but i'm not wigging out as much as i have in the past, over relationships that were far less deep as this. It just seems that this connection we share runs so deep and so strong that i know in my heart of hearts that it will always be there - it feels like it always was. I can't help but smile when i think of the next adventure we'll share. And, right now, that's what matters, right along with all those experiences we shared over the past seven days. Nothing short of pure contentment and overwhelming bliss. I wish everyone could feel what i feel right now.
I actually wrote a little today, right after i said my goodbyes at the airport, as we waited to see kris & zan's flight take off - as the plane taxied down the runway, stopped, turned around, and rocketed skyward. Now, don't get me wrong, i've written stuff that is far better than this, but this was so spontaneous, and was written really as everything took place, in an attempt to somehow capture that dual feeling of extreme sadness/longing and pure joy when seeing what lies ahead and what we had a chance to share. And in that way i could never change it; to do so would be sacrilege. Have a pleasant night, reader, and dream sweetly.
chasing the sun, all the way home
you and i
facing not a sunset but a sunrise
i can't do anything but raise my eyes to
in the plane
tears for the times we'll share
dried by the cool breeze
Staying up this late is a good thing, though; if nothing else it'll condition me for what promises to be an amazing little seven-day break from work that starts this Wednesday. Rumour has it that i may have a few visitors joining me, but ... that all seems to be speculation at this point. I suppose if someone were to show up i'd probably offer my hospitality, but dude, like anyone would come visit me. I mean, come on, let's be realistic here.
Today was a pleasantly productive day at work. Although i felt oddly stress-free, i was able to kick out two out of three tools that I need to complete for the first beta release of my program. Well... one still needs some polishing. In fact, i'm sure another good six hours. But i made some stellar fuckin progress nonetheless, thanks in part to some Nine Inch Nails, the Lord of the Rings: Fellowship soundtrack, and Queens of the Stone Age's self-titled album. I did want to hear U2's "Electrical Storm" as well, but they went and changed their website on me, in the process temporarily removing the video for that song. Grr! I just cried and cried... hehe.
After work I came home and eventually made my way down to dustin's grandmother's place, where i was fed some stellar chili and salad, complete with some good tea and finished with a kick-ass bowl of ice cream. And, to my much pleasant suprise, Kris called while i was down there, so we got to talk for awhile too. As always that left me totally bouncing afterwards, and, man, i just can't wait to see her again. Eloquence is simply too fleeting when it comes to describing how much i miss her.
Dustin and I had planned on coming back to my place to chill out and perhaps watch a movie, and meet up with brianne. Alas, dustin ended up at his friend heather's instead, and must have stayed there a bit later than expected, for i never did hear from him. Brianne came over, though, and we had a blast - one can't complain about a fun night of conversation and music combined with green tea and some leftover spicy vegan Goat-soup! And i introduced her, too, to the awesomeness that is Rush in Rio. Wow... holy fuck. I've never been able to watch it myself, alone, for more than about 10 minutes before i have to turn it off, or else i'll just short-circuit - blow a fuse and fry myself out from the energy of it all. Somehow i managed through about half of it tonight, though, so i have to commend myself. Fuck! I want to see those guys so fucking bad again, especially after seeing Bravado and Cygnus x1... and La Villa.... 2112... fucking Earthshine, dude.. my god.
k... i have to stop, hehe.
Plus, i'm awfully exhausted, and at this rate, i've been up for damn near 24 hours. Perhaps that's my cue to hit the sack once and for all after a most pleasant evening (all the stuff i did plus getting to talk to the Lobster and Val, both whom i miss terribly, made for just one hell of a night). Sleep well tonight, reader, and dream sweetly.
Feeling the flow, i decided to do a little writing as well. While arguably one of my smallest pieces - and really just this thing that wrote itself - it seemed complete. Lately i'll wait a day or two and massage my works before they tell me they're done, but this one yelled at me right away, telling me i had best save it and post it before i start meddling with it and fuck up something that is best left alone.
It sucks; i've felt really out of tune with my Writin' Goat aspect these past few days. Perhaps coming off my steroids has something to do with that. Either way, the soup i made tonight (so spicy - but so utterly good, and vegan this time, too!) may have given me the firecracker-in-the-ass jolt that i needed to start expressing myself again. I love being in that state, but inevitably life does balance itself, so i go through little spans where i don't even consider writing - almost like i forget that i can. It's natural, i suppose, for that balancing act to occur, but it's always so much fun when the pendulum swings back around and i start writing like a mad fiend again.
(i also did listen to an assload of Disturbed, Powerman, and Lord of the Rings soundtracks today while at work, so maybe all that energy i collected and generated and pushed out and consumed and simply experienced helped relight the fuse, so to speak).
but i'm-a yawning like a bastard tonight, so i should take that as my cue and hit the sack. Have a wonderful night, reader, and dream sweetly.
half past ten, belly full
and I’m swallowed in marshmallow darkness
blindly swimming in
on a Thanksgiving morning, grandma’s house
the shadows drenched in hazelnut and
caramel beneath my desk
as I write
and for some reason in this starvation
I’m not longing, I’m simply
remembering, letting it all
like black ink
as it crawls down to the sea
river Atlas bearing the weight
of a world captured in
the aching notes of a blues guitar
I remember it all, and I smile
Oh, and now soy milk, too. In the past day or so i've become rather hooked on the Silk line of vanilla-flavored soy milk - it's just so awfully tasty. I just may have to go score another glass before i slip away for my beauty rest.
Here's what i wrote tonight. very much in the flow, a spur of the moment creation, but one that i'm really digging on, too. simple, yet not all that bad, reader. Have a pleasant night and dream of something awesome, like seeing u2 in concert!!
how it all goes down
my nerves sang steel
they froze the light that lit my eyes
and I slid over the land in a fireball
past trees framed in crisp autumn mist
their leaves crying out in a whispered chorus
and I gazed to the west, always the west
and oh, what I saw –
it would have killed me to continue
so I danced on frantic ferret’s feet
back around the corners
screaming north, west, south and
back again west
always the west
and spied beneath the rain
that last light, the only bit
this endless gray day to shine
with bluegreen evening cloud
risen and eased, and slight mist
draping a nothingweight fog around
a bloated disproportionate beacon
cemented on the gray horizon
determined to stand out and scream
my little furry paws became ensnared in paste
and I was stuck, a mere ferret trapped in
a moment of forever -
my one beacon sun -
to think, a
conscious moment’s first
glimpse only -
but I turned around
I turned around and came back home
For the life of me i can't even seem to fucking remember why i'm even taking the time off in the first place. I must be out of it! or just in an extreme case of denial, hehe.
But dig it, i finished a piece i've been working on intermittently the past few days. This one in particular is a little out there, and to be true i'm not even sure what the fuck i meant to capture with it in the first place. I can make a few conjectures, but i started with an awfully rough draft from last week and tonight let the flow polish it up as it saw fit. Here's the result, for better or worse (I think i've written better, by far, but i half felt guilty moving onto another and leaving this one unfinished. For what it's worth, here she be).
I'm so going to bed, reader. I hope you sleep well tonight and have the sweetest of dreams, and we shall speak soon.
whence it came who knows
I was there
held fast beneath what someday becomes
for everyone a single fading dimlight
beautifully tethered to an ancient
ceiling by a rotting cord
in the middle of a room vacant;
a greasy yellow pendant
illuminating the smoke
as it drifts from my right hand, slack
the moment as real as this glass I clench, rigid and wet
dull as my wit tonight
cheap as a dollar-store piñata
all utterly harmless
but all a bit scary
sit at the table a few moments longer
we all do, we all will
and see cold unconscious force
blend with the restraint of the meek
below this tiny yellow bulb -
to this construction-paper specter raise
an illuminated glass
that reflects your passion
in an everyday ghost, like kindergarten art:
animals complete with cheerful barnyard smiles
and brass fasteners for joints
the little sharp ones that rip
through heavy colored stock
such fancies are never static
in that forgotten pub
the one we visit in those dimlit moments
where late-night, whiskey-fired inspiration
never lays rest to dreams;
live on location as it unfolds
as lives flex and change like the stars
once orion now the southern cross
so lash out, courageously seize the glass
savor the last and thrust it down
(the heavy table will only voice a modest complaint)
turn around now quickly compel your
chair to scream across the floor
and behind you find only the dusty paneled wall
of this shithole bar
to dance with you tonight
in this place that silences all
where echoes come to die
and our tiny dreams are forgotten
until we end
Tonight's the night we live or we die
I'm just sitting here at work, and mmm... there's nothing quite like a little Powerman 5000 to get a Goat into the perfect early-afternoon coding frenzy.
To my C#, all i can say is "bring it, bitch!" Have a stellar afternoon, reader.
I suppose I should go, though -
more people seem to be coming in
as the sun begins to rise out my window
just a thin
strip of pumpkin daylight
fading to a deep but new rust
that clings to the hills
like the night refusing to release
its hold on the stars
a sky the
captured above, before
stirring deep within
thoughts of warm evening fires
and cinnamon whispers floating
from timeless grandmother ovens
a simple semaphore
on a new day
fortelling its simple excellence
(written, rather stream-of-conciousnessly, at the end of an email i just sent to Zanny. bam!)
I need to jet, however, and call up a few folk this evening, still, before i hit the sack. I sincerely hope you have a wonderful Monday night, and the best of days tomorrow. Sleep well.
act of balance
tonight a nightblue whisper is the rhythm
barely there like
a child’s wish, but
now that you mention it
really the beat’s closer to the flat
sound of wind
on heavy lead afternoons
that brushes against paper lanterns
with the walls outside
ignoring the insides, leaving them
smeared an unbecoming
that overlooks the cobwebs
scattered about in the corners
in an idiot’s fit, laying low
stepping past the vitality
captured on stretched canvases
that hang like regal corpses
soon enough soft rhythm becomes
a pounding blitzkrieg, whispers turning to
and I’m tired, oh so tired
run down by the nothinglight
that filters down through these nothingwindows
onto my plain mercenary nothingwalls
of its burnt nickelodeon image
and stale mildew stench
I’ve grown tired
but my oh my, don’t that wind
sound soft tonight
like drops of the sweetest jazz
falling from the heavens -
the tears of god on the eve of war
I think i'll go hit the shower, since i just got done with a little lifting, and then head down to the store and see if i can find another plant. I have three in the house, currently, and I'd like to score a fourth. Plus, i plan on swapping two of my plants - one is getting two big for its pot, and the other just never grew into its quite-oversized one. So, even if i don't find plant that suits the Goat's tastes, i can still get some potting soil and have a wild and dirty transplanting party at my place later today, hehe.
Have an awesome, restful Sunday, reader.
there’s a single dove alone on the wire
set against an heavy sky
head under her wing
on this charcoal day where the rain
just won’t come
like that lone dove
I’ve been waiting
but the rain won’t fall
held fast to my own wire
I’m glued to this moment
lost in the anticipation of
but ensnared with restraint and doubt;
if I fly, I might get wet, catch a fever,
slip fall and die
but why bury my head
beneath my own wing
when rain is to be danced under,
and suddenly the dove leaves
I’d fly beneath this, too
lift off from my wire
and escape this moment
leave it all behind
and let the rain wash down
if only it would
top down transcendence
let’s maniacally scatter ourselves
over the pearl sea above the land
and down inside small places
those nowhere villages
where the clocks stop
let’s get lost in that world
when we’re done
we’ll blow away
feeling the beat riding the wind
we’ll let the waves
gently knock us down
anywhere they please
and when the end comes
we’ll settle down again
you and I
like cellos in the night
Again, sleep well, reader. I'm really going to bed this time. :)
progress in work
the loop of sea green
where evening purple turns to black
and gold peeks ‘round the corners
and rocket skyward
in screaming yellow white
where moonlight ends and pink begins
tossing your beams of love round the earth
like the rising day
that shines over me
shake a little
in a rhythmic trance
blue exotica twisting, blending
with shocking phosphorescence
the kind of thing that kills distance
with its bare immediacy
then, guitar in hand,
and play like a wind-borne whisper
that song I love
Have a peaceful night, reader - dream of the one you love - and wake tomorrow with smiles.
the nightchild ageless
my weary journey home
felt a bit like christmas -
the moon high, distant,
a little farther off
on a night
at the cusp
of an indian summer
I floated above the streets
by white headlights, red and green stoplights
all the colors of december
caught within the center
of a Friday-night explosion -
main-street traffic of youngsters -
and I fall back to an early morning, five years old
inching towards the tree
two steps a time
by white lights, red bows, green needles
colors of my yuletide fancies
and I rolled down the window
slowly hung my arm out
and remembered the chill of the night
years ago, stamping angels in the front-yard snow
blinded by the yellow light
pouring out the windows
color of my family’s love
and my journey closed
as I rounded the corner
the colors faded, the traffic died
and I resurrected at last a lonely road,
buried deep in a winter long ago
prairie night filled with arctic light
and sharp canadian gales
blinded by white wind and green sky
the colors of god beneath the stars
the images fold
like pages of a manuscript stapled tight
and between time, beside them all,
and over it all
the same moon
And, i just felt like writing tonight.
Today started off with grand aspirations. Although I didn't make it into the office until 7:40am (hey, a goat's gotta sleep in sometimes) I got some decent stuff done today while i was there. It did get a little stressful, though, so by the time i got home i was ready just to let it all hang out, relax, and chill with dustin and his brother and other friends for his bro's 21st birthday.
Before that, however, i had a hell of a rollercoaster ride. There were tremendous ups - two letters from Kris, which was a fucking awesome surprise, man, and a cool little chat with Zan, as well. All that positive energy was by all means welcome (as it always is), but even moreso considering the other crap that went down around the same time. My grandmother called me and proceeded to start going off about my old man, and a bunch of related family matters, including my stepbrother's suicide a year and a half ago, etc etc... and it brought out a lot of darkness into what i had thought would be a bright, stellar, simply chill evening.
Alas, i was called on to assume the role of moral supporter, to help my grandmother through some particularly heavy emotions. The bitch of this task, though, is that I want to be there for pretty much everyone, and will be there for everyone, but it does begin to drag a person down over time, because, sadly, there's only so much energy that i can push out to those in need - especially when i'm in a state myself where i'm not the fullest; i'm battling the creeping death as well as these bouts of not-quite-depression but just blueness that keep trying to take hold. I've been more or less successful at keeping those at bay, but nonetheless it's hard to ward off destructive feelings and help someone at the same time. Especially when you have a direct association with the same shit the person you're helping is dealing with.
It's times like these where i begin to wonder if some of my personality traits - being overly sensitive and empathetic, being able to see both sides to damn near everything, not seeing things in black and white - are really blessings or are outright curses. I'm crossing my fingers and hoping that those traits are actually good things. I feel like a fence-sitter most of the time (unless it concerns obvious wrongs, like George W. or lima beans or something), but again, maybe that's a good thing - that i'm not too overly reactionary, unless in those cases where i'm so passionate about something i can't help but be reactionary; to not be reactionary over something as childish as an amendment to ban gay marriage, or fight against voter apathy, or take a stand against any other thing that is right is a denial of one's self, of your passions, of life.
Even though i abrupty left my stepbrother's visitation, and couldn't bring myself to attend the funeral, for christ's sake, because of the insanity that blew up during the visitation, i can see why it happened. From my family's side, at least.
Anyways, yeah, the night got a little off-kilter after talking over some of that stuff with my grandmother. Things were looking up after talking with zan, though, and meeting dustin and the rest of the crew at the restaurant. After some tasty tex-mex and unsweetened iced tea (the latter of which Goats are quite fond), i was doing okay.
(somehow, though, i managed to cut open my lower lip on the top of cody's car door before dinner began. don't ask...)
all said and done, i was looking forward to bowling and generally chilling with my friends. Dustin and I met up with cody and his ex-girlfriend at his house, and plans encountered a bit of a change. Upon arrival all hell seemed to break loose as cody and his ex began fighting. It wasn't some mega huge nuclear extravaganza, but it wasn't much fun to experience, and it left both pretty well shaken. After a good spot of talking, between all of us, she took off, taking his keys - since he'd been drinking - and the remaining three of us ended up axing the plans to bowl. Instead, we took off, picked up cody's new girl, and came back to the house, where we just sort of sat around. All the while i was coughing to beat hell, and getting more tired as well, so i decided to call it an early night around 10:00 in the interest of keeping my health as well as it can be.
That leads me to where i am now; blogging like a mad fiend. It's been good spending some time with you tonight, reader. Alas, I ought to hit the sack and catch some beauty rest - and try and recover from this wicked creeping death i have. Word on the street is that dustin is gonna give me the echinacea hook-up tomorrow, though, so hopefully that'll help me kick this thing's ass.
Have a blissfully calm night, reader, and we'll meet again soon.
by the way, i made a mean soup tonight. Vegetable noodle it was, and oh, it was so damned good, i ate one bowl of its spicy goodness, and then, man, i got all nuts, and had soup after my soup! Yes, two soups, hehe. Maybe that's why i'm all jazzed tonight!
Have an amazing saturday night, reader, and rest peacefully.
the day introduces itself to me with
a tender light,
childishly peeking round the edges
of the blinds
and it begins to speak, quietly,
in a secretive little voice
I learn from its whisper
that I have a license to kill
the white morning beckons,
and I lean in close, finding out
what it means to be a butcher
softening the sting
that burns like daylight
on pallid vampire skin
and I see what it’s like to be
a killer of things that cut deep
like slaughterhouse knives
held tight against straining necks
I learn this as bright smiling nature
waltzes on my window
and swings ‘round my ceiling
in a smooth dance of courage and hope
the solar heat a blowtorch
firing the engines within my heart
and the light
my beloved’s arms around me softly
whispering, telling me
that in the end
I’ll be smiling
Dave Matthews Band - I'll Back You Up
I remember thinking
I'll go on forever only knowing
I'll see you again
But I know
The touch of you is so hard to remember
But like that touch I know no other
And for sure we have danced
In the risk of each other
Would you like to dance
Around the world with me
I'll be falling all about my own thing
And I know you're the heaviest weight
When you're not here that's hung
Around my head
And your lips burn wild
Thrown from the face of a child
And in your eyes
The seeing of the greatest few
Do what you will, always
Walk where you like, your steps
Do as you please, I'll back you up
I remember thinking
Sometimes we walk
Sometimes we run away
But I know
No matter how fast we are running
Somehow we keep
Somehow we keep up with each other
I'll be falling all about my own thing
And I know you're the heaviest weight
When you're not here that's hung
Around my head
And your lips burn wild
Thrown from the face of a child
And in your eyes
The seeing of the greatest few
Do what you will, always
Walk where you like, your steps
Do as you please, I'll back you up
... have a wonderful Friday, guys.
Have a beautiful night, reader, and may tonight bring you infinite happiness.
it all starts with the quiet girl
the punker on her phone
wrapped tightly in black,
low-rise jeans hanging low -
the only sound a single arc-sodium
across the street
speaking softly, shrouding us
a shared casual glance
and then the empty street -
tonight it’s smothered by grayblue flicker
and the folk are settled in
ready for their midnight journey
but poised to rise again
and live simply
on a morning forever waiting
and after it all, circle ‘round
the tired playground of a weary school,
past families turning in,
and children on late-night adventures;
as the afterheat fades to starlit transcendence
come back home again with a soul on fire
ignited by nothing but an evening stroll
through this simple, beautiful world
I should just go back to bed and start the day over again. :)
The Goat has been provoked, and may being bleating in an aggrivated manner.
The general gist of the post was this: being sick sucks ass, and going out last night with my crew for the bachelor party - even though i didn't drink - was likely a big mistake, because i feel like i'm going to die. I'm so congested, coughing to beat hell, and my muscles hurt ... a trip to the doctor may very well be in order tomorrow. Because dying would really cramp my style.
And i really really wanted to go on a mountain bike ride today, but can't, because of my current state of health. This fucking licks ass, because it makes me feel like i'm being imprisoned, held back from experiencing life; i try to make the most out of my days, and when i'm sick, i'm kinda stuck. Perhaps i can catch up on some well-missed reading today, however. That would rock.
That was about all i wrote. Hopefully this post makes it through, too. Have a great Sunday, reader, and stay smilin'.
I've been away primarily because i've been trying to battle this new bout of creeping death that I picked up out at WE Fest last week. I have no idea what the fuck this is, but it's killing me nonetheless. It's likely just the plain 'ol cold, but we do have a few cases of the whooping cough in north dakota (and within our company, too) so i may head to the clinic tomorrow just to make sure nothing is fucked. It started out like most colds do for the Goat - tremendously sore throat, then the sniffles, followed by a cough that nags and nags and nags, and finally leaves like a month later. Well, it's been only a week, and i'm in the cough stage, but it's also accompanied this time by some wicked head congestion, and i keep coughing shit up, lots of stuff, which is really rare for me (generally when i get colds they're always dry coughs). My luck, i'm probably just going to die or something, which would totally cramp my style.
I had planned on going on a long mountain bike ride today, too. The bike was in a local repair shop for the past few weeks getting fixed (it was done in a day, but i couldn't pick it up due to scheduling conflicts with work and a severe lack of money this month), but I went and retrieved it this past Wednesday. Thankfully it appears to be rock-solid, as it should be, and i took it out for a tiny 7-mile spin on Friday to make sure it truely was fixed. So... i could ride it now, on a beautiful sunny Sunday morning such as we have now, but i'm fucking sick, and it's gettin' me down, because dammit, i hate missing out on life because of stupid shit like a cough. But i also know in my right mind that I should just stay in and take it easy, lest i get even worse.
And i'm sure last night had something to do with it, too. It was my buddy's bachelor party, so four of us (yeah, only four!) went out on the town, bar hopping and generally painting the town red, after playing some frolf and going out to dinner. Being under the weather I decided to play the role of designated driver, though. That wasn't too bad, and i was totally willing to help my friends out and stuff in an effort to ensure their saftey, but the bars were so awfully smoky. Regardless of dd-ing or not, i just shouldn't have been out there - i came back feeling like shit, far worse off than before i went, and, subsequently, this morning is now pretty damned lame. I'm a little hoarse again (or, a little Goat? more like) , coughing lots, and i have some muscle aches, too, which concerns me. Alas, i'll go visit a doctor tomorrow.
Oh, and yeah, last night i ran over a screw in the road with the Altima, so now one of my tires has this big ass thing protruding from it. As of last night everything seemed well, but who knows if it went flat over last night or not. So that's another little adventure i get to embark on later this afternoon - go get the tire fixed. Dude, i think my luck must have run out after last weekend or something. I'm crossing my fingers and hoping that next week turns out a little better.
For now, though, I'll let you go and get started on your Sunday. The Goat's going to attempt to do so himself, perhaps by first taking a nice, long, hot shower. Have a wonderful day of rest, reader.
The one song that i wanted to hear sooo bad at the Dave show was The Stone. I've seen those guys three times, and man... it's like Rush's Earthshine, Resist, and Bravado - all wrapped into one.
They didn't play it.
But they played it the night before, at the same venue where i was, and i missed it! And my god, right after #41... oh fuck man, i would have simply melted into the ground.
Setlist from the night before my show:
So Much To Say -->
Super Freak* -->
When The World Ends
I'll Back You Up
Have i been deviating from the path/flow lately? Cause this, man, sucks. What did i do to receive such bad karma? Argh!
Oh well, there'll be another time, perhaps with the Lobster, cause dude... yeah. That would rock beyond words.
Peace, and again, sleep well, reader.
I returned from WE Fest and Dave Matthews in one piece... barely. I'm so awfully sleep-deprived it's not even funny (or, perhaps it is, given who's looking at who, haha). I begin speaking in tongues, doing odd little prance-dances, randomly bleating, and eating weird things... like flowers. A yellow rose, in fact, and a little bird tells me that there's some photos of said incident; but, alas, that's another story for another time.
I've had about 5 hours of decent sleep, cumulatively, since Friday night. The whole trip was a hellacious 1100 miles roundtrip, nonstop, from Fargo to East Troy, Wisconsin, where Dave played. More on that experience later. (in short: concert fuckin' awesome, crowd bunkass)
But i reckon that the 'ol Goat should get his nightly beauty rest, since he's not had much in awhile, and could likely scare all sorts of girls away (which doesn't help when the Goat's single!). Plus, i hear tell that the Goat has some wicked cold that he cought out at WE Fest, so he's gonna have to nurse that... or else face the wrath of some evil shit, since he can't shake colds in the summer/autumn season too well. :(
I'll pop in sometime in the next day or so and tell a bit more about the trip. Until then, have a wonderful Monday night, and dream of good times spent with good friends.
Anyways, here goes. I'm off to bed, to score some proverbial beauty rest. Although goats are often sexy creatures, they too should get their rest, you see... lest they become onery. Have a pleasant night, reader, and we'll see each other soon.
my mother’s eyes tell the truth
as she spins the blue moon’s tale
dreams tightly clasped within its light
energy carried into forever
and she hands down the legend
of how it gathers your energy
when finally leaving the night
a rare event, but twice a year
although I see her truth
and hear the positive message,
something else lingers within me,
lit by the dull nothinglight
of my worrisome conscience –
would this celestial rarity take everything?
could it dare steal the essence of me
and push off into the night,
triumphant charcoal flags of death
raised high for all to see?
or would its courage get the better of it?
if I could I’d have the better moon –
I’d surrender my thoughts
let it carry them across the stars
and deliver as a whisper my dreams
on a soft evening breeze
See, the mapcontrol derives from AxHost. This class has an Activate method which likely calls Activate on the embedded activex control, but also seems to call Activate on the AxHost.ContainerControl object. Generally that's a Windows Form, but for various reasons I couldn't have my mapcontrol hooked to a Form like that. Hence, when DockableControlPane would invoke the AxHost.Activate() method, it would try and activate its containercontrol, but oops, shit, if it's null, it'll throw a nice ArgumentException. Alas.
Well, UserControl to the rescue! I just built my own, since it derives from ContainerControl, and dropped a MapControl onto it. Then addded the UserControl to my DockableControlPane. Bickety-bam, the proverbial motherfucker is rubble.
Whew. It feels nice when you figure out a problem you've been freaking out about for two weeks at work. :)
... right. I should just stick to being a hick, ah reckon, than one of them thar rappers. :)
Anyways, my day was pretty cool, and i do hope yours was too, reader. I didn't do much of anything too eventful, aside from go over to the folks' place for my stepmom's birthday - and talk with zan for awhile too, which was awesome as always - and chill with Brianne for a bit tonight, too. So i guess i did keep busy, but it was relaxing, too, and ultimately fulfilling. In some ways, the perfect Sunday.
I had intended on simply popping in before bed to wish you a happy Sunday evening and a wonderful start tomorrow morning. Alas, I decided to - for whatever reason - peek at my old profile on Yahoo! Personals. Back in December 2002 I decided it would be cool to meet some new people around town, particularly a new girl, if I could do such a thing (traditionally it's a royal bitch for me to meet girls, especially awesome ones). Now, I had always been quite opposed to the idea of meeting dates online, but i figured what the fuck, what have I to lose? Surprisingly it worked! A month later I was dating "Elizabeth", my last girlfriend. A few other girls expressed interest in dating, but i was already off the market, so to speak, so i didn't give them much thought.
And, in reality, i'm still not... since from what i could tell they weren't quite Goat material. It takes a special girl, dude - maybe because i'm just so, well, special. :) Anyways, a moment ago I went and looked at my old Yahoo! profile, out of simple curiosity. Here's what I had to say about my goat-self, back in late 2002:
"...I'm not the average dude who just got out of college and is starting a life of his own - and searching for someone to share it with. I've got my head on straight, I know what I want in life, and I'm not afraid to go and find it. But for me, what I want in life isn't just to climb the corporate ladder or constantly party, like, well, my freshman year at college! It's simply to be happy and to meet someone that's totally unique. Happiness for me comes from both the big and the small - from hearing a song on the radio that takes you back, like some Pumpkins or some DMB, to stargazing, mountain biking, or just kicking back with a cold one and watching Lord of the Rings. Happiness is taking a weekend off to see Radiohead with three of your best friends. And it's the thrill of meeting someone new and feeling that deep and amazing click of a connection. They're some of the things I live and breathe for, and I'd love to meet a girl that feels as passionate about life as I do and isn't afraid to be herself. A girl that won't hesitate to open up and connect, constantly teaching, enriching, and making life all the more awesome through the balance created between us. Oh, and she'd be all the cooler if she enjoyed keeping healthy and active (but wouldn't mind lazy Sundays filled with movies!) and was someone who felt as passionate about music as I do. Does this make me different from other guys my age? Sometimes I wonder... but being a little different isn't so bad! "
While most of that isn't that profound, really - just the basic, run-of-the-mill stuff i'm looking for, what surprised me is how close that still is to the kind of girl i'd love to be with. I thought after dating Elizabeth that, if nothing else, i had a stronger conception of who i'd like to share my life with. And in some ways i do, but at the root still lies what I pasted above - and i've always known it. I think that during the six months i was with her that i simply forgot most of it, and didn't much realize the kind of relationship I truly wanted, and in some ways deserve.
You're probably asking, so what, dude, that's what every guy wants. Yeah, probably, i'm sure most guys do - i'd think so, at least. So why even bring it up? Again, you got me! :) Just one of those silly little things that caught my eye and made me go, wow, man, i still feel like that. Kinda like when you don't eat something for about eight years, like smores, and go, holy fuck, those are good - just like i remember! and you sit back wondering why you forgot that they tasted so good in the first place.
Go out and make some smores, guys. Seize the day, get up your courage, and go find your lobster! The person that's totally yours in the world, the one you can spend the rest of your life with. (note the obscure Friends reference there, with the "lobster")
Anywho, enough of my bantering! Have a content and restful Sunday night, reader, and sweet dreams.