because you're the storm that i believed in.

i eat apple jacks now. no one saw that coming, i bet. i just bet.

i keep cutting my hair. every single day. i'm not sure if this would count as an addiction, but there are all these little tiny flips of hair that i just keep needing to get rid of. and so i do.

i am the embodiment of a run-on sentence. and i like to write them, too.

i burned a hole in the counter!! this is not good! hopefully my roommates will not hate me!! or kick me out onto the street!! ahhh!! jesus!! this is a bad month!!

today gets one plus point for randomly ending up at the crocodile to see a pixies cover band.

... but otherwise i'm totally fucked!!!??!?!?!!?

update(??): i'm not totally fucked, apparently. my roommates don't hate me. PHEW or whatever.

i have taken to eating flinstone chewable vitamins because they are pediatricians' #1 choice. i'm not even sure if they do me any good at all or if i would have to be 5 years old to reap the benefits.

it is very late. my mailbox is frequently empty. i'm going to be very un-proactive and say that maybe people should send me emails. i'm a nice guy. really. maybe a little more shy than i let on. maybe a lot.

also, if you are in seattle and have a job to give out, give it to me. <3 <3

reading archives of old familiar journals consistently breaks my heart. i hate to suddenly make a pretentious and lame analogy, but i feel like an impossible rubik's cube and at different points in my life the colors have shifted a little, but i'm still the same and unsolved.

also, it seems that everyone else changes more drastically and they are some other puzzle toy that changes drastically and doesn't even look like the same toy once it's changed and it is also unsolvable. i can't think of what toy this would be because i'm just not that clever. though, maybe people don't really change that much. maybe they just become more and more tired.

if that wasn't enough pretentiosness, it is confirmed that i am because my favorite architect is gaudi. having a favorite architect is pretentious. i am told.

i think squirells are totally great.

tonight is the night of "the party." and i say "the party" in a way that makes me think of the long lost impro comic "the party" and i imagine it will be the same in that there will be no discernable plot and events will be staggered and absurd and people will most definitely die.

honestly, we are delirious.

i feel like i should start writing more detail in my posts again, but it always just seems to bore everyone. i mean, i like clever long entries, but i don't think i really write them. somehow, i imagine my terse, aloof and cryptic semi-daily posts are just more entertaining to everyone.

i never have any idea what i am, really. other people have these clear stone etched names for what they are or will be. like: "marine biologist" or "tightrope walker." but i can't really say any of that. or, i can, but it always feels like i'm a big faker. "artist" is what i usually go by, but that's just so broad and generalized that it could mean anything. like "sandwich artist." i mean, like, no disrespect to the sandwich artists or whatever... but jesus christ. sandwich artists.

at least they have a job. my job is to make things look pretty and then try to convince others that yes, no, i mean, seriously, take my word for it - what i made is totally pretty. like, seriously. i'm not kidding.

in other news: people make me want to sigh lately. but, in a good way. there are totally beautiful people. i totally see them. they have vigor. and i don't mean that in the way that they are really excitable or that they are the life of whatever hypothetical party, but that they glow. even if they don't talk, i think. some people glow. like, maybe it's in this mysterious way that only i have the supernatural power to see, but they glow and make me happy and make my belly warm and air escapes my lungs and i just want to tell them and i don't think i ever know exactly what to say, so i just compliment the most obvious things. and have big semi-secret crushes on them.

i'm so nervous and paranoid. anxious. but people are great. they do great things. i don't know what i want. or, wait, i guess i do, but i'm a compromiser.

maybe i don't write longer entries anymore because my life has become less eloquent.

i went to see the faint last night. it was a dancing good time. i danced. like a dancing maniac.

also, adorable leg warmers and glasses and sparkly hairbands? good lord. good good lord. *sigh*

robizotsizongdizemo.mp3

in case you didn't know, i don't brood here anymore.

my brooding still exists in word documents and wav files so don't worry or whatever.

i applied to be a model - which is total bullshit. i also applied at best buy - which is also total bullshit. desperation-a-go-go.

i don't know how to tell you this, but i finished zelda.

okay, like, i so totally did know how to tell you, didn't i?

i went to a bright eyes show last night. also, arab strap was there. also that guy from pedro the lion was there. it was a super-neat show. at an all ages show, it is not a good idea to be attracted to anyone because they are all probably 12.

my friend lindsay who i met here n seattle (it was totally N'tense) and is from a place where i used to live a long time ago who is my friend who totally hit her head on her ceiling jumping on her bed this morning chronicled the bright eyes setlist because she's a total dork.

i shaved and missed one hair on my whole face so it looks really weird. @+@.

also, we are supposedly going shopping soon. i mean, not me because i'm totally poor, but i'll dress lindsay up and stuff.

i went to the seattle slam poetry bar drinking thing last night. i read one of my "things" out loud - which was not technically a "pome."

also, i lost my job the other day.

in other, more important, news: i've acquired the master sword and mirror shield. we.