"CREATOR OF DIMENSIONS."

...But there is no end to creation.

ive come a long way...

but it still means just as much.

its really honestly wild to be able to relate to the criminalistic, morally depraved side of something that truly speaks to you when youre 15 years old, then be able to relate to the intellectually and socially reformed aspect of it and have it instill the same powerful emotions in you that the same sound did to your delinquent past.

same sound, different meaning.

lost.

found.

sail on... sail on....

im sailing.
fourteen foot schooner painted a chipped and peeling red and white.
really, maroon and grey.
mast repaired by hand.
here comes a wave...
i rock and tilt and lose center of gravity..
but i dont fall.
i never fall.
but i know better than to stand.
i sit.
and when i move,
i crawl.
i cast off the same docks as the other boats and owners...
use the same type of line.
sail the same waters.
only i dont do it in a motorized forty foot yacht
or a 900 foot long cruiseliner.
i have my fourteen foot schooner with a tattered torn sail and a chipped rudder..
undoubtedly from the rocks and sandbars over the years.
no galley.
no quarters.
mottled bulkheads.
my anchor is an empty milk jug filled with cement.
but i never use my anchor.
i always am moving.
sifting through the unknown.
not gliding though, as gliding is an easy motion.
sifting is uncomfortable.
exposed.
villified.
scrutinized.
but really, im sailing..

and

the world keeps turning.

"i believed in zines, sounds from the stereo..

they spit hard lies but for years it was all i knew. fast forward ahead, these kids dont mean shit. they stole my heart, jumped in the car, and split."



i opened an old email account of mine today, for the first time in almost two years. as i went through the inbox and old mailbox, the updates and letters from record labels that once meant so much to me became cheapened the more recent the newsletters got. I opened one sent to me from Bridge Nine today telling me about a have heart, ceremony, cruel hand, let down tour thats actually playing at places that arent DIY venues anymore. which is ironic, because from what i remember, and correct me if im wrong, all of those bands are DIY bands. i dont know and dont care who the fuck Let Down is, but the other bands i once knew as people and from what i knew, it was DIY til they DIE. I guess all the hype has mind altering effects? Its really just further confirmation that there is no such thing as real hardcore anymore. thats why i originally distanced myself from the scene, because the lyrics and message in no way reflected most of the band members' or fans' home lives. and it was contradictory. how can people write songs about being broke when their parents are feeding them money? how can they sing about having nothing when their families hand them everything on a silver platter? how can they sing about hating their mothers after they depend on them and accept and accept from them? it all became just one giant immature dance of not appreciating anything after awhile. the words "fuck" and "worthless" can only be said so many times before redundancy becomes a theme. nowadays, hardcore is really one or two bands and a legion of copy cats. the original ones did the smart thing and phased themselves out. or they rarely play shows and stay under the radar. because the message theyre trying to convey will mean nothing if everybody is screaming it into a microphone.

i hope i am never associated with this hardcore scene by connotation or context. when someone sees me on the street, i want them to think nothing of me and keep on walking without acknowledging me. as a visual figment of who i really am, i dont want it to exist in peoples mind. i want my words to mean something. nothing else. when you take a step back from the noxious, intoxicating pull of the hardcore scene, youll see how much better EVERYTHING ELSE is. if you like threatening environments where everything you do is judged, stay there. if you like dumb drama, stay there. the real world doesnt want you until you can get out of the social traning wheels of high school and the hardcore scene. when you experience tough times in any regards, it shapes every aspect of your life. both for the positive and the negative. and all the little insignificant shit that matters in the hardcore scene goes out the window because you suddenly know whats real and whats fake. and hardcore is fake. all of it. cant be in a DIY band if you live in a mansion. cant sing about the nitty gritty when you live in the glamour. your lyrics are my life. and my voice is our voice. the cast asides. get back to basics and stop being ungrateful. if i had half the opportunity and chance most of you had, i wouldnt have ever been in the scene. id be at harvard. making MONEY instead of trying to fit in with other fakes.


youre a joke. youre all jokes.

objectively objective.

this is the part where i hold up my hands, clean white slates. this is the part where i stand wide-eyed, not holding any secrets behind veiled lids. this is the part where i take a step back, not wanting to step on the poison that you indulge in.

im pushing. in a futile, two-armed, stiff motion. forcing everything that isnt positive out of my life. so many of you are caught beneath my stiff palms. i want to smash some. i just want to expell others.



so long, astoria.

dispelling.

the things i read. the people i see. the perceptions i get. the vibes i receive. the precognitions i predict. the revolt in hearts i instill. the sobering of minds i futilely attempt.

the things i think.


the things i DON'T say.

if you only knew.





don't expect me to stick around too much longer. and i mean that in all facades of the statement. the disgust i scorningly look down upon with disdain poisons me in my time of sterile sober ascension. i simply cannot deal with it. i have disgust for everything, and almost everybody. i get very little joy from living in the setting i am forced to deal with and the characters i am forced to watch enact a story i dont even want to see. the only joys i get nowadays are the joy of amusing myself to lack of reasoning and the ignorance of others, and the joy found in my girlfriends birth certificate. everything that i do is meaningless. school doesnt matter when theres a soup line filled with bachelors degrees wrapped around the corner.

i dont know where im going, because right now, its hard to imagine anywhere actually being in GOOD condition. but just know that it wont be anywhere near here. it will be somewhere that even this curse of a city's outstretched arms cant touch. it will transcend and ascend beyond touch. into figmentism. imaginitive. into what does not exist. i will be the disappearing smoke from your exhaust in no time.




No More Games. No More Bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun -- for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax -- This won't hurt.

buoyant.

im floating, but there are fish and weights and rope and tides and rip currents trying their hardest to pull me from the surface. dragging me harder and harder everytime. friends. they do that to you. the problem with trying your hardest to rise from the bottom of the cesspool, the scourge of society, is that everything you are and the very fiber of your existence comes from the same scum you are trying to escape. its infectious. like a brutal airborne virus that wanes and waxes but never fully leaves. i feel crafted by my environment.. a piece of wood. and behind the strings that pull my wooden body are the puppeteers that call themselves friends. i can run all i want, truth is, i still have strings to pull me back. but still, i walk free. i cut the strings. i revolt on the puppeteers. i get to the edge of the table. i jump. midair, i find a new set of strings and a new puppeteer.

reno.

i really really really miss going to reno as often as i used to. 2005 and 2006, it seemed like every weekend and almost all summer i was in reno. i miss the friends there the most.. nicest dudes ever. i miss the late del taco nights, long walks to the circus circus buffet, rating the sex shops, getting KO'd at shows, RHMC, big nicks world famous breakfast, walking out of kyle oels' house/venue at like 7am barefoot and looking down and seeing a bunch of used syringes, airsoft wars on freezing nights, random random random girls' and dudes' houses at 5am making bacon with bryant, dogman stories, bro parties, HELLAWEEN SHOWS, talking about old crust punk and oi with ca james, late nights with elzo's smelly ass, and walkin around the "new" mall for hours with my vacaville pals and my reno pals just hangin out.

everybody from vacaville i used to go with either moved far away or doesnt like me anymore except for mario and mike posey.

nobody from reno likes each other anymore or has moved away.

the times, they change.

i just wish things could go back to that time in my life.

20 years old

i dont know if im an old child or a young man.

recycle.

we are






































































































































































































then we arent.



carbon. biodegradable. decompositions. waning.

check chins, stack ends, fuck friends..

it feels like im swimming with lots of small, dense, weights attached to my ankles. everytime i get close to the surface so i can finally breathe and taste air and see sunshine and see where im going, i get dragged back to the bottom in a violent fit of rage. i take the weights off occasionally, and lather up some oil on my ankles in high hopes that they slip off when i violently kick, but sometimes that just isnt enough. maybe i need to cut off my feet to get these weights off.





friends.



"friends"

fiends.

foes.






they drag me down. im drowning. help.

status:

in a relationship.

new dog, old tricks.

my drumset has just been sitting in my room becoming severely emaciated over the past few years or so. I sold my cymbals, lost a drum on tour, and another drum somewhere in the wild sea of time that has been my life since high school. I want to build it back up, i forgot how truly awesome of a drum set that I have.. Pearl Session Custom Maple Fusion. they dont even make my series of drums anymore, so i really need to get going with purchasing from select drummers all around the world, nevermind that the maple session custom fusion series was very limited in original production, that should make it VERY hard to find. i decided i want a piccolo snare again too, or maybe a very small, deep popcorn snare, 10" or 12". the crack that the popcorn snare gives off is insane. the trash talk demo and s/t were recorded with that snare. but it wasnt mine so i gave it back when i quit. im thinkin a classier all around full sounding drumset with all the colors apparent.

heres what im thinking..

10" vintage fade maple session custom tom-tom with superhoop rims
12" vintage fade maple session custom tom-tom with superhoop rims.
22" remo pinstripe 4 batter head for my bass drum.
10", 12", 14" remo emperor coated batter tom heads for a real rich sound.
22" a custom ping ride, or a really thick K custom ride. brilliant finish.
18" avedis medium crash. traditional finish.
16" a custom crash.
14" a custom fast crash.
19" K custom dark china
13" A custom mastersound hi-hats
10" K custom splash

i love my snare, but it needs a new powersound head. and i might want to get either a deeper 6.5 inch snare, or a really thin piccolo snare.


drummers, if you know anybody selling any of this gear for cheap, let me know. and if you have had any of these cymbals, let me know your thoughts on them.

my life.

is everything that you guys write songs about and brag about to get pretty girls into your bed and so so so much more.

i appreciate the value of discretion.
i acknowledge the cheapening of words.




speak softly, carry a big stick.

flak.

i vaguely remember reading somewhere recently that there's an election this year? and i once overheard somebody say how it was the most historic election ever? i need to get in touch with humanity and the great american way of life, it seems. why is this election considered to be so important? whats at stake here? george bush already cant be re-elected (and it is my own personal opinion that sadaam hussein would be a more suitable leader for our country, gentle reader), and if Bush cant be re-elected, what does it matter who follows in his footsteps? the Harrison election was much more important, as was the Cleveland election, because so much more was at stake in the ways of foreign policy and reformation. anyways, this election is getting too much of a tumult raised in its name, if you ask me. if both the candidates say that respectively their gender or race doesnt matter, why is it being used as a marketing ploy on their parts in the form of products or commercials?

i refuse to vote. ive always refused to vote, because the power of democracy nowadays doesnt lie within the people. trust fund babies, corrupted hierarchies, and corporations own congress now. and congress has the real power. the al gore election was great evidence of how off-key our election process has become.. he won in the popular vote, but lost the electoral vote. the PEOPLE wanted him, the corrupt congress did not. the electoral college needs to be eliminated so true democracy can have a voice. republics work, but only in their non corruptive, progressive state. congress is too content with the way things are run nowadays to really make any changes. i resolved to not vote until the electoral college was gone a long time ago. and im tired of catching flak from all directions because i wont vote. in my classes, at school, amongst peers, from relatives. its not like im ignorant, i have an educated stance on the matter. if there was a proposal for an amendment abolishing the electoral college that the people as direct constituents could absolve to, then i would vote in favor of it.

im sick of the red tape thats designed to keep the good, hard working people voiceless.

oh i beg, i beg them please...

it rained today. its going to rain tomorrow.

getting coffee and sitting outside will be awesome tomorrow.


i have court monday for 100$ fine and i have 7$ to pay it with. i dont know how that works out, but obviously im not paying it. dont offer either, i wont accept.



ive been listening to a lot of coldplay lately.. the warm gray color of the music seems to compliment my current mindstate really well.


imissyou.

stranglehold.

im gasping for air.


i think ive used all this city's oxygen.

reality.

shamefully on my behalf, ive been spending too much time on the internet lately. but i guess thats what having no money, living in a shit town, and having nothing to do at all ever do to you. i should spend less time on the internet, because everytime im on for longer than 5 minutes, i see something in somebody else that i absolutely despise with all my soul. heres the latest one, fully developed in the past 5 minutes. I used to drink a lot... and by a lot, i mean a LOT, but for my birthday this year, i got insanely drunk and subsequently quit drinking. that makes me an authority on nothing. im just setting the stage for my current train of thought. so, when i used to always be drunk, thered always be people who essentially put me down and told me i was a piece of shit and why i drank as much as i did and did the shit i did while drunk and said the things i said. it never really phased me, considering the people who said them to me were/are mainly just lumps of shit that will never make it out of this dead end town, and if they do, theyll always maintain the same vacaville state of mind. (its wild how little matters when youve faced real life). this whole time i was always a pickled drunk bum, i never flaunted it through pictures of party times holding a bottle or a can, never flaunted it via fuckin myspace or in casual conversation. it was my demon. i recognized it as such, why would i publish such a terrible work of art? so, i browse the ol myspace tonight and i come across a bunch of peoples pages that openly ridiculed me for drinking. and you know what i see? default picture: tilting a bottle to the mouth. comment: come over and drink!!!!


like its an activity in itself? i know i speak for all the realest of the real that i had the fortunate misfortune of becoming close to when i was a lost trainwreck: this isnt a party. nobody cares if you drink. nobody cares. stop flaunting. i only care when you contradict yourself in immediate conjunction to "advice" you lectured to me. ill admit it, i dont remember writing at least 70% of these entries in here. there are some that i read and its like the first time reading it. why is drinking cool? thats the real point im getting at. who decides that its "cool"? see, naive people who havent been through any real SHIT in their life see it as a very easy gateway to the dark side of life. to the other side of the tracks. but why? why do people want to be from the other side of the tracks? why is that becoming socially acceptable.

us trainwrecks dont want you on our team. stay over there with your parents' car and gas fund and college education. see the harsh reality of reality in itself causes even the happiest little balls of light to blow up in a cataclysmic supernova to the point where it turns you into a black hole. an abyss. an abyss that only wants to swallow everything that is good and pure in this world down. i know where i come from and what makes me me. not many people know what makes me me. actually, nobody does. because ive never taken the time to tell it to anybody. alchohol isnt a scapegoat for mistake. it doesnt validate your stupidity. there are people in my life i dont remember having sex with because of alchohol. family outings ive missed. jobs ive lost. friends ive lost. potential relationships ive bombed. things ive lost. people ive fought. people ive placated that didnt deserve it.

thats the reality of it. does it sound attractive? does it excite you to know that you too can find out you had sex the night before only by a good friend being courteous enough to smell your dick? missing your sisters graduation? brothers band concerts? or being such a drunk that youre too drunk to go to a party thats thrown in your name? losing people you thought mattered because you lose your inhibitions and say something dumb? how about saying something dumb to the wrong person and losing lots of blood and getting two black eyes?

does a hangover after a 6 month drinking binge sound good? does that excite you? can you imagine that headache?


see, people who are shallow, insignificant, privileged, gaudy, insecure, and unintelligent who flaunt their mild consumption is like shitting on me and some people that i hold very close to my heart. speak softly but carry a big stick. discretion. its nothing to be proud of. we're slaves; but not by choice. how dare you choose to be one of us? to willingly feel the demons that plague our lives?


real recognize real, and youre lookin REAL unfamiliar.