Friday, August 16, 2002

Yo (part deux)

Ok. Aimee's keyboard went ballistic on me and I have to start this journal entry all over again. Ok, everyone, I need to talk to my Blog for a second. Everyone just skip the next two paragraph and read the rest of this entry, ok?

Everyone gone? Good. Blog, it's my first official entry and already you screw me over. Actually, technically, the keyboard screwed me over, but you're the reason why I used the keyboard in the first place. Look. I'm not a big fan of these online journal things to begin with. But I read them anyway like a sucker. Or a creep. Or a stalker. I'll just pour the gravy on straight. I'm a busy guy (hey, I got plans) so I'm going to neglect you. I also have a sketchbook that I get creative with on the side (if you know what I mean), so if you're the jealous type, hey not my problem. I'm also not going to share my truly inner most feelings and thoughts with you because hey, I don't feel comfortable online (and that asshole might be reading this.)

But I'll tell you what I will do though: I'll be funny. I'll be boring. I'll be political. I'll be intelligent. I'll be incomprehensible. I'll be childish. I'll be bitter. I'll be juicy. I'll be awkward. I'll be a philosopher. I'll be a braggart. I'll be an artist. I'll be a jerk. That's what I am: I'm a child of contrast. That suburban radical. That loud shy guy. That clumsy athelete. That cynic dreamer. I'm probably you too. The impersonal personal journalist. Does this make me a bad writer? Or a liar? Or a hypocrite? I dunno. I'll just flow and you'll just catch me.

Ok y'all. You can come back now.

Today this happened to me:
- I freestyled.
- I drew comics during my final.
- I met someone from Brown university.
- I made a "thank you" card out of tiny fiber glass.
- I called home.
- I ran in the cold.
- I got caught sneaking through someone's kitchen.
- I ate three sandwhiches. Maybe a fourth in a little bit.

Times like this make me wish I had a car. I don't like asking people for rides. I'm going back to LA tomorrow and I need a ride to the airport. Well, I don't really need one. It's a luxury. I'll take the BART. And hopefully write a poem or two. When I plan in advance to write a poem, it doesn't usually happen. But I'll try. I'd write one now but I gotta take care of the Blog. Yes. Excuses, excuses. I live by them and hide behind them.

There are two kinds of days for me: lazy days and hyper days. You know hyper days. The moment you wake up, you feel like you want and can do everything in the world. Today wasn't one of those days. I'll tell you about a hyper day when I have one.

Rap and talk with me sometime. We'll share secrets. Or sunsets. Or steak. Unless you don't eat red meat... I don't wanna discriminate.