2002-10-14 01:30:31 ET
I love staying up late. I like staying up to five-ish. I don't really care to be nocturnal though. I love the daytime as well, the more the better. That reminds me of the empending time change. God, I hate that shit.
Yo, I saw someone get shot last night. It was very surreal. I was in a parking lot with my friend, waiting for my other friends to get to the car so that we could go back to their apt in Hollywood, when all the sudden, like, 20 bottle rockets go off in the parking lot. This made everyone generally happy I think, knowing that it'd piss the cops off and no one could get pinned really. That was okay and kinda nice. That stops. Then these other loud fucking bangs go off right in front of the club and everyone scatters. That's when it became apparent. My friend comes back in total shock, being in direct proximity...like, right next to the guy. That guy was talking to us like 4 min. before he got shot in the head. Odd how fast shit happens.
This is the second time I've seen someone get murdered. Total Science, the D&B we was seeing, was okay. It was nice to get out and shake that ass, as it always is. I love moving my hips. Dancing is very nice. Prior to this night, I was really in the dumps.
On Thursday night I went out to see a friend play in Long Beach. As was totally well. I was hanging out with a girl I don't know too well, and that was really nice. Then we decide to leave and by this point all my other friends had left. We look for her car, and keep looking, and so on and so on. It gets all hectic 'till it dawns on her that her car probably got towed. So...blah blah, she calls her friend and gets picked up. I called my friend and got totally yelled at. Then got schooled-the-fucked-out by another friend in a really hurtful personal way the whole way back. This is not to mention I had to hang out in some fucked up area of Long Beach by myself at 2 something in the morning. No big deal, save for getting yelled at. It wasn't really my fault, and it hurt my feelings the things she was saying to me about me. Whatever.
So yo, it is crucial to shake that ass and get out as much as you can afford.
The weekend before that, I went to a D&B party in the desert and that was really nice. I met a girl there and I really like her. I'm just not too sure how to approach this thing, besides to say fuck all and try without thinking, which of course is the right way to go. I don't know. I love talking to her, but I need a real-time thing, not telephones or email, if this thing is going to go anywhere. She likes drums and bass, so I think I'll be able to check her at clubs and stuff. I'm not gonna think about it.
I'm going to my bed for sleepy-time. I wanna have sleepy-time with another human someday. That would be nice. Goodnight to meshelf
|felix da housecat|
2002-10-03 00:11:04 ET
I'm listening to Felix Da Housecat right now, and it's really sounding good to me. I didn't anticipate him sounding like this, assuming that his style would perhaps be a bit more average. Instead, it's all, like, lo-tech futuristic style that sort of calls out to an almost nostalgic sound without being typical or predictable. It gives me an 80's-contempo* streamlined corporate-office decor feeling, with colors of light/dark biege mixed with green/black computer-interfaces and well-placed, soothing, low lighting. I would recommend it.
*(I said 'contempo' on purpose. I don't ever actually say that word.)
Today I feel kinda out of place. I think maybe it's because I took 3 hits off a cigerette yesterday night while out at a little coffee shop. That sounds really bitch-ass, but I don't underestimate the disgusting demonizing power of cigerettes anymore. YUCKY!
YUCKY! Hey, I have a skateboard named FUCKY! Yay Fucky! Actually, I got pictures of Fucky when I drew on it to disguise its true identity, for I do believe the punk kid I got it from jacked it from some poor little boy, who he probably hit or pushed around. That kid was rediculous, but he was such a good skater, and I liked his illegal-ness (he was, like, 17...I'm 23). It's because of this hellish nature from which this skateboard was contrived that I thought it befitting to name it "FUCKY," a word not technically fowl, for it does not really exist (as my friend Josh pointed out.)
Poor Fucky though...I hardely skate ever since I moved into this house. Don't know why.
I'm thai-erd. Goodnight and peace be upon us.
|Today's Agenda (for future reference)|
2002-10-01 10:12:23 ET
Today's Agenda (kinda in order):
0.5 Drink profuse proportions of coffee
1. clean my kitchen
2. clean my bedroom
3. Sample/generate beats and sounds into my computer
4. Fuck with sounds
5. Eat some food
7. Work on beats
8. Optional: work on love picture, a concept two-years old.
I'm gonna get that job at Toys R Us. I really don't want to, but I could use the money. So, that's why I'm laying out an agenda, 'cause soon I'm not going to have any free time. I'm going to be a slave for a while. Toys R Us stays open 'till 12:00pm during holidays, meaning I'll be at work till 1:00am.
Yuck, but fuck, make the buck like a sucka duck, caffiene cluck.
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