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The Girl | |
2003-01-21 19:41:23 ET "I'll be number two if it means a chance with you but baby can't you see I just can't be number three. I'll be the other guy, but never just another guy." what is it about her? there's got to be something there. she keeps coming back and I never leave. we're stuck together though we don't get why. She likes me or so I think and I'm her man as long as that lasts no commitment no expectations no big deal then why can't we make it work? and I wonder what the world would be without her hair her eyes her smile her voice her neck her fingers her legs her brain her lungs her veins her heart her 12:00-12:45am |
2003-01-20 20:43:06 ET hrm. I need to write, but my mind can't think of anything interesting. maybe I could write a poem about all the girls I've ever wanted. Amber Hill,Megan Gordon,Angel Giles,Arwen,that Girl from cheerleading,Jen Fox,Kelly Check,Paulette,Shannon,Krista Pomanti,Bridget Kinnon,Paulette(again),Kristen,Sascha,that red-head chick,Eileen Coughlin,Mo Langley,Sarah York,Cheroc... all the girls at ska concerts. And still I am alone. *cry* I think I like girls with odd names. wow. that was sad. Moving on. I think it's funny that I'm making a 16 minute long short film, made up of 12 short stories, which I am going to take, and edit into one bitchin music video for a Badly Drawn Boy song. How about that for using people?? sometimes it's good to do tis, though, and just let the mind fow. see what comes out. I knowthat poem about NYCthat I jotted down has something to it. it feels likeit's got somewhere to go, something to say. I think it might be a song somewhere along the line, but I tried to enter some lines, and only came up with The city sits like my future. the city is my future. something in it is calling to me or maybe it's just my "Calling" to be drawn to such scene. I went back to the city tonight to make a declaration to the nights and fights and traffic lights and especially to Penn Station to the graffitted walls to the smokestacks in the streets, spewing forth steam from somewhere deep in the bowels of the city to the people walking with guitars to the teenagers stumbling out of bars to the pants stores, open until 2am and the restaurants that close at 10 to the bums who refuse a slice of pizza while eating oranges from their bag that says "hungry, please help." to the chess-playing hobos in Central Park and the Ground Zero rubberneckers to the punks and the goths sharing drinks t the same bar while the politicians and the stock brokers plan to demolish their front yards to the construction cones surrounding nothing on an empty city street while the horns in the alley go beep-beep-beep to the hi-rise apartment to the sub-basement dancehalls to the screaming from windos and the dimes dropping from buildings to the Tri-Bourough area and the Upper Upper Bronx "I've come back to the city. and you'll never notice." 1/20/03 12:00pm-1:42am |
2003-01-19 14:01:22 ET Fuckin Eagles.
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They should make commercials like this. | |
2003-01-18 23:34:22 ET Tickets (for two) to see the Rudy Crew, King Django & the Vic Rice Octet - $24.00 a soda - $3.00 Vic Rice "Live @ Version City" - Free (thank you insurance money) Parking - $10.00 Getting to see the re-united members of the Stubborn All-Stars (minus Lord Sluggo) perform "Tin Spam" - Priceless. There are some things money can't buy. For everything else there's a mildly unhealthy dedication to Ska Music.
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2003-01-18 23:20:43 ET Tonight I went back to the city to get some inspiration I went back to the city to make a declaration to see the dirty sidewalks and the cleaned up subway cars to walk the busy streets, and the empty alleyways I went back to the city tonight to find something I'd lost to meet someone new and to discover what the cost would be if I never came back. I went back to the city tonight and I'm kinda glad I did. The city just does that to me. It's so big, it's a world in an of itself. It (seemingly) needs nothing, yet it can't survive on its own. I would eat itself to survive if it had to. I went back to the city tonight. |
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