i guess no one ever noticed i spelled delirium wrong. it was kind of a joke... but i'm terrible at that sort of thing, so...

stop trying to be beautiful. the effort makes you ugly.

people, listen here. there is a new song. it may not be worth much to you, but it cost me my indifference.

i've been profound in my subconscious thinking lately. unfortunately my consciousness doesn't hear too well.

inspiration has left me behind to wither in my mediocrity...

that's not completey true. i've had ideas. but they fleet.

you know what? ideas are my only real medium. everything else is just an afterthought. just a punch in your face. something about telepathy. something about using my environment to project my thoughts onto you. that's all it is. if you could read my mind... my pen, guitar and camera would become obsolete.

but, you can't. you can only read what i rip out of it and jab along a keyboard.

no complaint here though. it gives me something to do. except when i can't do it. when i can't rip it out. it hides sometimes. under migraines and fatigue. under depression and longing.

but bleh. i'm just a little uninspired. but there is nowhere to place the blame beside myself.

but, despite all that, i try.

current and possibly futile projects:

a story (maybe comic) called: "winter in spades"
another ongoing story called: "come on"
songs called: "a description of...", "sadisad", "unfortunate encounters", "a conflict of..." and probably more unjustifiable names...

and whatever.

boy for sale: $1.99

direct all inquiries here

i was reading nem0's log... thing... and looking at her cam... thing... and like... it's weird how you put a voice to what people write, and when you see them, that voice becomes completly different.

but anyway...

she looks like, really familiar somehow. no, i'm not hitting on her or anything. she really does. seriously. i'm not kidding.

oh wait... i forgot, this is supposed to be some kind of introspective blog or something...

yea, so... i feel... stuff...

so anyway, nem0 has this cam thing, and it's really addictive. i don't get it.

i stuck the contact page up. i put icq on there even though i'm hardly ever on it. i always forget to turn it on. and the voicemail is just for my own amusement. it's never used for anything, so i might as well let random people leave me pointless messages if they feel so inclined. go wild.

there we go. i like this much better. the other layout was too complicated. this is simpler and happier. none of the links work. i'll put them up soon.

nothing is ever as great as the day you find that you're a complete idiot... and that's not sarcasm. seriously. thank jeebus.

you all of a sudden see this huge open space in front of you... more than huge. mammoth. and you don't care to even try to traverse it. whatever. you just start walking and see where you end up. no, you don't even "see" where you end up. you just do.

you start to realize that you can feel whatever emotion you feel necessary at any given moment and it will be okay. sadness, anger, happiness. you can be jealous, envious, devious. because when you start denying what you're feeling at an exact moment you just feel your insides tearing you into pieces. so why fight it?

and you can be wrong. gloriously wrong. wrong to whoever. because there is no wrong. just here and there. it sucks to be in between those. and you stop apologizing for being imperfect because you realize that no one wanted to hear your apology in the first place.

then you move on. you forget that you're an idiot and go back to caring for people and places and the intangible.

love,

can i take back everything i've ever said in my entire life? i mean EVERYTHING. is that okay? because i'd like to. i'm sorry.

oh yea, it's also come to my attention that like, people i know pretty well and see all the time read this stuff now. that's crazy shit.

i've been getting into this habit of thinking that a lot of people i know are in bad relationships... and i guess it seems true from my end, but i'm not really sure if it always is. i mean, i see people fight and fight and fight, and i automatically think "bad relationship". but really, as much fighting as i do see, i'm starting think there is just this thing with people that i just can't get. people like conflict. like, in their relationships especially.

i'm pretty much wrong about everything. i guess fightings good sometimes. but i hope there is some kind of limit. there's most likely a really thin line between people who stay in relationships to work them out, and people who stay in them because they don't want to admit they were wrong about their significant other. but i'll be damned if i can actually tell.

i hereby renounce myself from ever judging relationships again. i dumb. err, unless it's my own relationship of course...

the bay

she clutches the steering wheel and takes a deep breath

another bridge to cross that won't be her last

she cracks the windows and yells at me to speak up

she saves herself from drowning and promises to make it through

it's just another song about a girl. it seems every one is about her

but she's angry they didn't write it for her

maybe it's the high heels, or the exercise that throws her off

but she belts out the next line like she never heard the last

this bridge can't seem to hold all the tension in this car

it sways from the voices that change from one moment to the next

"this isn't serious, this is just another conversation

so please don't take it as more, and please stop looking at the water"

well, i'd like to believe that, but it seems that we're sinking again

one after another, it can only get better to become worse again

she yells at my hand as it reaches for the radio

an innocent victim between us, i snap it back and pocket it

the toll that was payed to cross this bridge,

doesn't seem to encompass the ride that we've gotten

---

i focus my eyes on the lines in the road

and the hum of the tires become sonnets that i can almost hear

the breeze plays through a symphony and my eyes a conductor

i follow the beams and make them my home

suddenly the car is jerked to the side

and it crashes through the wall like nothing inside

we floate through the air in this old dirty car

and sink as slowly as i can only help

the water rushes in through the cracks in the windows

surrounding my body like no one ever has

the car continues to sink but we don't move from our seats

we take in the tranquil peace of the sea... and move... and love

in a moment we drift out of our seats by ourselves

and swim to the surface as slowly as we can

and we would take a deep breath as we reached the air

and tread as we smiled at each other... for none... is gone

we'd reach for a kiss in the cold night air

but not notice the air, for we've made this love a home

a home to be warm by, a home to stop ships by

this is where i'd always like to be

in the middle of the ocean with my lover in hand...

or maybe just out of reach of the land

and maybe we'd laugh as we reached the shore

an ambulance there, or maybe a fire truck

we'd stare at the stars as they would drag the car out of the bay

and she wouldn't care, and would realize; she had nowhere to go...

and we'd fall asleep at the foot of the bridge

not even waiting for the sun to come, it can stay away

and the moon can glow over our heads as long as i can close my eyes

and lie next to this sweet little mess of hair and skin... and eyes

---

but soon, it's fading...

---

back to the car and i'm yelled at again

for creating this symphony with just the air

she pulls for my voice and asks for a sound

only to hear the first thing i think

which isn't much...

it isn't much...

i was gonna make our lady peace the album of the week... but i'm way too sick. i can't write a review because i can't even really hear anything. but it's not like you guys were dying to see anything right? ehh... i guess i can say one thing about OLP. and that is: *orgasm*.

oh, you can check out OLP stuff here.

i've been gone for the whole weekend. i went to san francisco and all i got was this lousy flu. not even a t-shirt. damn.

i had this trip planned for awhile. it was a trip to see my ex-girlfriend. i guess i should've felt uneasy about seeing an ex, but i figured we were fine. i call her a bitch and we laugh. she tells me i'm boring and should be a homosexual and we both laugh. so... i guess that means we're friends.

i took a 14 hour train ride along the coast of california to get there. as beautiful as some of it can be, sitting in a train for 14 hours is never a good thing.

when i got there she picked me up. i was really happy to see her. i hugged her really hard and we were on our way. we went to the grocery store and picked up some beers, got some pizza and settled in at her place to watch south park: the movie with a few of her friends.

at like 1 am her boyfriend called. he was drunk at some party. he asked her to go pick him up and take him home. i gave her a look, because something as retarded as that deserves no words.

i've come to realize that no matter what, you should never tell someone that they're in a bad relationship. it'll only make them stay in it longer. she says she's in love with him and that i have no right to say anything about it since i've never been in love... never mind the fact that i know what it's like to THINK i was in love, but was totally wrong. and she just happens to be acting the same way i did.

all of this made me realize even more that the relationship we had was completely bad. the whole weekend did actually...

so we went to san francisco (she doesn't live in SF) and became tourists for a weekend. don't worry about how her boyfriend felt about all this. she didn't tell him.

we toured chinatown and the length of fishermans wharf. including pier 39 and alcatraz. we went to a wax museum, an imax ripoff and... some other stuff. we got into a million little fights, but always turned on a dime to be friendly again...

the second day there i woke up with some kind of major sickness. my head and back were in complete agony. she called me a wuss. i'm thinking flu. i still have it. it sucks. i decided to still go out and be a dorky tourist though...

she probably mentioned her boyfriend once every 10 minutes. she thinks i don't understand why she talks about him all the time, and i agree with her to her face, because she'd never believe me if i said otherwise. but i do. i understand what it's like to want to be sure there is always someone there. she talks about about him as if she didn't mention him so often, he'd disappear off the face of the earth.

most people in my real life say that my expectations for love and relationships are way to high. i think it's fucking sad that they should be forced lower.

so anyway... despite the fact that i hate her sometimes, i love her. ha. but i'd be damned if i was ever in a relationship with her again.

the funny thing is, i think i made her uncomfortable a few times throughout the trip. like she didn't know what to say. which is funny, because she knew exactly how to do that to me when we were going out. i felt completely comfortable in SF (other than being sick). i don't like making people uncomfortable. not unless it can help them in some way. i guess i've changed that much. it's been a year and a half. maybe i threw her off.

yea... now i'm home again. i feel a little bit different from when i left here on friday... but maybe that's because i'm sick.

i've been out of the drawing game for quite some time now. not that i haven't been drawing. i probably have enough new things in my sketch book to replace every drawing in my gallery. it's just that, for some reason, i never seemed to take the opportunity to pick up a scanner. last time i was about to pick up a scanner, i saw my keyboard and bought it instead...

when i was younger, about 4-5 years ago, drawing was all i did. there was nothing else. then i got a guitar from my dad and my mom finally got a computer. i started to find that anything computer related became second nature. so all my time started going into it. i would sit in our office for days installing and re-installing EVERYTHING. taking our computer apart and putting it back together. i became like this DOS master. i learned a bit of UNIX. i even started learning C and Cobal and Basic.

and then i found the web. i think i became obsessed with it for awhile. we weren't really the richest family on the block, so we never had our own connection. i would use it at friends houses and stay long nights while their families slept. it was insane. i don't even really remember why i was so fascinated with it. now i realize 90 percent of the web is retarded. but back then i was interested enough to do something that had to do with the web.

i made silly little webpages in notepad. i learned a little bit of javascript. they all looked retarded. i tried to be all artsy and cool with them... but they sucked. i think i had just learned how to use photoshop. so i was making these ludicrously huge images that would make the pages take FOREVER to load had i ever put them on the web. but i never did...

then i found the fahq, or aahq... whetever it was called at the time. so i started drawing again, and i even made a webpage for the stuff i did. i can safely say i was bad at both drawing and web design at that point, so... yea. i also seem to recall that i was insane. i mean literally. i saved some e-mails i had sent to people in the past and... christ. i'm afraid of who i was. i sent an e-mail to lex (of the paradox) at one point, that i think was... the pinnacle of my insanity. i formally apologize to her and for any scars i may have brought upon her or her future children.

anyway, i took up drawing again, and made some semi-decent-but-not-that-great-stuff. then i started playing my guitar again. i learned a few songs and quickly realized that no songs on earth really accurately reflected me. so i took to writing bad songs. it was fun. i snagged a microphone that my mothers boyfriends son wasn't using anymore and started recording them on my aiwa boombox (of all things). they sounded terrible... but i felt i should keep recording enough to fill up a 90 minute tape. and as bad as they were, i can't say it was a waste. i still have that tape and pull it out every once in awhile.

so, everything i've ever done creatively (at least trying to be) has always led back to the computer. i'm in love with this cold little box. i'll never understand... but i don't think i need to. so, i took my sound card and started to record things digitally. actually i think it's still analog, but it like, converts it to digital... or some junk. i made more bad songs (and continue to do so).

somewhere along the line mal liked a song i did and he started to record songs... thankfully so. i like his stuff way more than mine. but i think the fact that he does it too keeps me recording new things all the time. if he never started, i may have lost interest in it. or maybe not... i dunno.

so... i kept drawing inbetween everything. i still love it. but i think it's just another thing i can do to say something. i mean, generally, expressing yourself through art is a pretty cliche idea... but it's like, why fix what isn't broken? especially if you enjoy it? i do a lot, and i'd never consider myself really good at anything. i love to write, but i'd never call myself a writer. i do call myself an artist, but i recognize that it's the bastardized term. i just do what i enjoy. some people have sex. i don't always have that option, so i play make songs. or draw. or design. or write. or masturbate.

i guess saying it's a "release" isn't really an accurate description of what i use art for. it's like a band-aid. it helps cover old wounds. nothing is released. if anything, more is taken in. it helps me observe the world. and honestly, if i'm ever depressed, art is probably a contributing factor. becoming too familiar with life and it's intricacies and realities is bound to make anyone heavy-hearted. it's like a drug. it's like trying to find a purpose so you can go on living, only to find there probably isn't a purpose...

but, uhh, honestly i was never into finding a purpose. i could really care less. i'm here. i don't need a reason. i don't need to know why the sky is blue or why bad things happen to good people. it just does. and i change what i can change. the only thing that hurts for me is my own expectations for myself. i've made promises to me. promises you make to yourself must be kept. i'm my only purpose. and i let myself down sometimes. so that's what needs to be healed.

christ, if there was ever a long pointless rambling...

sometimes i just write things to make hard evidence of what is in my head... because all the stuff that resides in there is fleeting.

i think i'm done for now. bleh.

i changed the name of my one man band. mp3.com takes forever to make simple changes, so the name probably won't show for days. maybe even weeks. just know, that when you go to my music page and see "Pauls Middle", know that it really means "a heart shaped boy". that just seemed more appropriate... and cool.

also, the songs say remastered... which they are. but i played one of the streaming files and noticed that it was the old song. so they may take a little longer to update those as well... bastards.

another 6 am bedtime, and a 5 pm morning. this is becoming an issue.

dude, new years bites...

not really. i just know that's what you expected me to say.

i was actually in the process of doing absolutely nothing at about 10:00 last night. then my friend that lives like a billion miles away from me called and said she was only an hour away. she drove to get me and on the way back to her brothers dorm room (trust me) the new year passed while on the freeway. actually it passed in anaheim while we were circling disneyland(read: lost). then she kissed me because we're friends like that.

i'm always shocked and amazed by my life when friends call from out of the blue just because they want to spend time with ME. especially when that time only comes once every 365 days...

she took me to this strange place where college students live. student housing. it reminded me of summer camp... except with a lot more puking... no wait, the puking was just about the same. i just don't think we had as much alchohol in summer camp...

... err... okay... so it was exactly like summer camp...

college kids are funny. not in a bad way. it's just that they love to spout off names of people who write books. not just books. long, old, hard-to-pronounce books.

some guy came up and started talking to me and my friend. let's call him scott, because that was his name. scott was a philosophy major. every ten seconds a new author would pour from his wine drenched lips. i think i recognized one name he threw out, and that was like the obvious dante. all the other names were gibberish to me. but as we got to talking about the ideas behind these names, i started to realize... i'm a philosophy major at heart.

i guess a major theme behind philosophy is to question EVERYTHING. well, there's no shortage of that in my repertoire... and then... uhh...

what was i saying? something about philosophy. i dunno. it's 9:16 in the a.m. and i haven't actually slept yet. so i don't feel it neccesary to reread what i just wrote to remember what i was just writing... so i'll just go on to what i KNOW all of you want hear anyway...

SEX...

just kidding. but there were pretty girls there. pretty college girls at that. college girls are so cute. if they weren't all totally wasted and tired, i might've asked one of them if they'd like to go for a walk and look at the sky with me. they'd probably laugh at that incredibly cheesy line, and i'd probably go sulk in the corner because it really wasn't a line.

but of course, i would never even do that. i'm a nervous wreck around pretty girls. i shake, my heart feels like it'll explode. it's hard to be suave when you can't even talk with your mouth so dry and all. i don't get it at all actually. out of everything in the world that could frighten me; heights, aliens, haunted houses, cher... pretty girls are the only thing that terrify me. and it's so heartbreaking, because i'm incredibly attracted to girls. i think they're swell.

i like kissing girls, i like hugging girls, i like the smell of girls, i love running my fingers through girly hair... i used to be fine with them. somewhere along the way i just went insane. now i can only look at them and wish i could get close enough without going into an epileptic seizure...

... it's not really that bad. it's just easier to be really dramatic about things. i do get a little nervous. only because i haven't dated in about 2 years. that must mean i'm ugly, right? or maybe i'm not ugly, but i'm just a loser...

or maybe i was all bitter with girls for a long time so i didn't think they were worth the effort...

but i guess i was wrong. they are worth the effort. something about the guava smell in their hair as they lay in your arms... that's worth something.

i guess now would be a good time to recognize the fact that i'm rambling. and i'm damn proud. good night... err... morning.