blustocking (
blustocking) wrote2003-03-24 06:25 pm
(no subject)
EVERYTHING WILL NEVER BE OK
by Fiction Plane
everything in your life's explained away
as part of a process that holds you back
a walk along an avenue of trees is just what you need
but the memory of divorce lingers on
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
there'll always be some part of you in pain
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
there's a lack of oxygen inside the sound
stops my brain from getting me high
every time i wake up it's a brand new day
and i realize my body 's designed to die everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
you'll always be some part of you in pain
everything will never be ok
you can take an hour or two out of every day
: living in a world of lies you feel no pain
i 'm waiting for the day when i don't have to work
love will satisfy my impatience
you know how much my dear i would love to talk
but i'm far too busy on this occasion
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
there'll always be some part of you in pain
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
you'll always be some part of you in pain
take an hour or two out of every day
living in a world of lies you feel no pain
take an hour or two out of every day
living in a world of music you feel no pain
its just as real
just as real to risk pain as to suffer
everything will never be ok
you'll always be some part of you in pain
I smell like burned leaves. I should shower...but I kind of like it. There's nothing poetic about this entry. There's nothing poetic about this moment.
Thursday, I'm going to meet my friend Katie, someone I lost contact with, essentially, after I left home. She's a college chum. I'm going to her artsy-fartsy get together. Lawrence is placing Jayhawks all over town (in the tradition of Chicago's cows and Los Angeles' angels). She designed two of them and I'm going to the opening with her. I hope it's snooty and there's an artsy crowd there. I'd like to practice my skills of subtle mockery.
Friday, I'm taking my nephew to a concert at The Bottleneck. He's going to be 16 on Thursday and his parents won't let him go by himself. I am the only one "cool" enough to be seen with him, I suppose. By cool, I mean, young.
Jason, my friend from Los Angeles who now lives near Chicago (Wisconsin to be exact), should also be here next Monday or Tuesday. He's stopping for a night on his way out to L.A. He says he's not flying any more. Not because of the war, but because it scares the crap out of him. He's my favorite fag. ;) He gave me film credits on a couple of the films he's worked on (low-budget b-movie horror flicks, apparently I was script supervisor. Nice.)
After the requisite hour of news-watching, I watched the silent film The Passion of Joan of Arc today, helped my Mom burn leaves, and worked out.
Now I'm going over to a friend's house to chill out and I guess we're making cookies. I just need a fucking distraction. I've been snapping at people lately...mostly my Mother. I need my own space.
Ever get done writing an entry and realize there was no fucking point, but you don't want to erase it because you spent all the time writing it? Yeah.
by Fiction Plane
everything in your life's explained away
as part of a process that holds you back
a walk along an avenue of trees is just what you need
but the memory of divorce lingers on
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
there'll always be some part of you in pain
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
there's a lack of oxygen inside the sound
stops my brain from getting me high
every time i wake up it's a brand new day
and i realize my body 's designed to die everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
you'll always be some part of you in pain
everything will never be ok
you can take an hour or two out of every day
: living in a world of lies you feel no pain
i 'm waiting for the day when i don't have to work
love will satisfy my impatience
you know how much my dear i would love to talk
but i'm far too busy on this occasion
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
there'll always be some part of you in pain
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
you'll always be some part of you in pain
take an hour or two out of every day
living in a world of lies you feel no pain
take an hour or two out of every day
living in a world of music you feel no pain
its just as real
just as real to risk pain as to suffer
everything will never be ok
you'll always be some part of you in pain
I smell like burned leaves. I should shower...but I kind of like it. There's nothing poetic about this entry. There's nothing poetic about this moment.
Thursday, I'm going to meet my friend Katie, someone I lost contact with, essentially, after I left home. She's a college chum. I'm going to her artsy-fartsy get together. Lawrence is placing Jayhawks all over town (in the tradition of Chicago's cows and Los Angeles' angels). She designed two of them and I'm going to the opening with her. I hope it's snooty and there's an artsy crowd there. I'd like to practice my skills of subtle mockery.
Friday, I'm taking my nephew to a concert at The Bottleneck. He's going to be 16 on Thursday and his parents won't let him go by himself. I am the only one "cool" enough to be seen with him, I suppose. By cool, I mean, young.
Jason, my friend from Los Angeles who now lives near Chicago (Wisconsin to be exact), should also be here next Monday or Tuesday. He's stopping for a night on his way out to L.A. He says he's not flying any more. Not because of the war, but because it scares the crap out of him. He's my favorite fag. ;) He gave me film credits on a couple of the films he's worked on (low-budget b-movie horror flicks, apparently I was script supervisor. Nice.)
After the requisite hour of news-watching, I watched the silent film The Passion of Joan of Arc today, helped my Mom burn leaves, and worked out.
Now I'm going over to a friend's house to chill out and I guess we're making cookies. I just need a fucking distraction. I've been snapping at people lately...mostly my Mother. I need my own space.
Ever get done writing an entry and realize there was no fucking point, but you don't want to erase it because you spent all the time writing it? Yeah.
no subject
Hehe, this is just one of the many reasons I love and miss you.
Tell Jason I say hi! How's he doing? How's his other half? I know they aren't together anymore, but don't they both live in the midwest again? That's great that he's going to be able to stop by on his way out to L.A. Give him a hug for me (if he remembers me?)
Re:
He is good. Going out to L.A. to work on a couple movies, has a BOOK deal now, and is still doing conventions. He mentioned something about a documentary too. Sheesh. His website is actually, www.jasonpaulcollum.com :D Dennis is doing well. They're both big, faggy sluts now. ;)
I'm sure he does. And I misses joo too. :}
Re:
I'm glad Dennis is doing well too. It was so nice seeing him at my going-away party. How strange we all ended up back in the midwest or thereabouts!
Re:
Yeah, they want to fly me up to Chicago. You should come. We should plan it for a time when we can all go.
Re:
How weird. We know a person who gets fan mail. Is it okay to be completely jealous of the fact that he's being published? 'Cuz I am. :)
Re:
Yes, we should plan some-teeng....hrmmm.