angel and I talk about love and ecstacy and self-involvement. highlights include hopelessly strung-out metaphors about flattery and straightforwardness, and a suggestion that an ideal world would be ecstacy-induced.
in which Guillermo shares a wonderful poem and his recently-hatched experiment in which he will plot out his writing's and his emotional moods in an attempt to reduce poetry to formula. but oh what wonderful elegant math it will be. it's really much more intriguing than i'm letting on, but that's just cuz i'm stuck on the idea of art being irrational so i'm pleasantly, passively sabotaging the whole affair. make sure you check out the links in the conversation. both are worth the effort.
starting with a scathing rhyme the strips down the male psyche from the inside, this conversation (with a man (or woman) that has asked to remain anonymous) quickly spiraled harrowingly down into a philosophical mess about art and aesthetics and math and freedom and others.
but that's a story for another day. today me and he were talking about insecurity and about arbitrariness and the legitimacy of criticism. i'm not sure he appreciated mine
getting to know all aboouut me. it's not a 100-things list, but it is some bulleted facts (some essential but most just essential. if you know what i mean)
a crash course on how i write and how i talk and how i usually talk about myself and why i talk about my self (and it's not really all that annoyingly self-centered...try it. you'll like it.)
3.07.2002
introDucing the Dreaded Dandy-Lions
i was looking for blogger.com and i typed in blooger.com, as i usually do. this time however, i waited to see where the mistake took me. i still don't know who ?b/r/a/d/l/e/y? is, but check out the "change my mind, i beg of thee" link towards the bottom of the front page.
last night was great. my little brother, Rush, played his first gig at a club in Houston (cardi's). so me, my brother Bob and Rush's dad (my stepdad), drove the 3 hours from Austin to go see the show (and then back). i only got 4 hours of sleep last night but i wouldn't have missed it for anything. i'm the type of person who would risk losing my job to see my brothers' perform (bob is an actor at SouthWest Texas State(?) University) or to go visit my 21-month old neice, jacqueline jade moreno, in new york. but back to rush sandifer, lead guitarist and back-up vocalist pf the Dreaded Dandy-lions (i don't know if these cats are supposed to be feared or jamaican, but they are undoubtedly dandy (note the pleasant, playful effect of alliteration)).
we showed up at the door and he was waiting up front (to remind his friends to tell the money person who they were coming to see cuz he got $2 on every $5) and it was just so excitingly cool to see him, in the moments before he was gonna rock (i like to throw myself emotionally into moments like those. in fact, i was talking to his mom about how nervously excited i was getting). but back to the door...he probably had about 30-40 people there to see them (and his friends were having to borrow money left and right cuz the club decided unilaterally they were gonna charge the under-21 kids $8. those bastards.) the club was intimate...mostly cuz it wasn't very full, maybe about 80 people in the place. rush's little sisters, alex and darby, were there and they were cute. alex was all gussied up, vamping in her red leather pants and a ruffle-y, stretchy lookin shirt. darby refuses to talk to me (she's only 5 i think), and whenever i come around she shoves her face in her mom's ass (although last time i was around them, she was on a sugar high and you couldn't stop her from talking...especially once the knock-knock jokes were unleashed).
rush is the cutest though...whenever he's playing me or bob new music that he's recorded on his 4-track, he always introduces it as "pretty gay, but i like it". it would have been classic if he would've announced their set that way. bob and i both thought so.
the singer did some punk screaming and some just plain old rock singing...ntohing special about his voice, but he did have maniacal looks on his face, a fedora, some black paint on his right eye, a fake scottish accent when he talked between songs, dance moves as manic-ly goofy as the faces (although i feel like he was holdin back some), and to top it all off, he started brushing his teeth about halfway through the 45-minute set, frothing at the mouth and spitting out foam.
the bass player was a chick. she had a blow pop in her mouth and two strapped to her mic stand. she gave them to darby after tthe show. i tried stealing them from her...face to ass again. the chick looked sedated. she was also cute and capable and a first time performer. when rush was auditioning people to fill the spot and found out she was interested, he said that she was getting in regardless.
the drum player was good and in the back and presentation wise he was just drumming there in the back. but he was definitely good.
rush is great though (speaking as a brother and a fan). i was standing down in the pit and a couple of times early in the show he gave me this embarrassed smile and a shrug like "eh...whatever. i don't know what the hell i'm doing up here". he would also just zone out and stare blankly while he was playing. proficiency with guitars (and pianos) really is sexy attractive and generally just gorgeous to watch. the cutest thing though was that rush had maybe ten or so picks stuck on his mic stand so that after every song he could throw one out into the crowd and unholster a fresh one (i guess it's what rock stars do?...i've only been to rap concerts before and few of those). well he forgot and at the end of the show his stepdad/stage manager/kiss tribute band bass player was pointing at the pics. so rush is like "uh...hey everybody, i forgot to do this...so. here." and he's standing there for a minute just throwing pick after pick into the audience and people started calling out for them like groupies (me too) when he ran out. he all nonchalantly, but with muted surprise, says "you guys can just ask me for a pick. i'll give you one if you want." the kid is a natural.
objectively as possible, i think the song that rush sang lead on was the best one. it was about a girl whose dad beat her, so her boyfriend "rescued" her (killed her dad), only to beat her himself. he's got a good ear for mixing sounds and paces and textures and such. they covered the batman t.v. show theme song, complete with cheesy fight scene choreography. and offered an updated classic "love potion 69".
the dreaded dandy-lions, folks. give em a hand.
i've got financial obligations here in austin, but i'd really like to move out to houston so i can work with him and just watch them rehearse (and maybe learn a little guitar, ladies)...maybe i'll work out something with my mom and stepdad (i owe them the money that i'm working this corporate job for). we'll see.
oh, and rush wants me to write a song for him/them. it's about a guy who's driving along (on a road trip i guess) in his car and in the first verse he's thinking about how he's never met anyone who was right for him. the second, he picks up this hitchhiker girl who turns out to be perfect. and in the third, with heavily sexual (and maybe personal submersion) imagery, she kills him. the way i plan to do it is to have every couple lines be from someone else's songs like he's listening to the radio the whole time (although i just thought that maybe in the third verse the radio lyrics won't match up, and may contrast sharply with the mood and action). if only i had any idea what songs to quote. i'm open to suggestions.
detroit, you've been wonderful. this is Billy Moreno, stringing out and signing off (or something).
oh, and if for some odd reason (or if you're just in the houston area) you're interested...drop a note and i'll get you on the dandy-lions' email list.
working in the mailroom for a company that has offices on two floors makes the elevators an important part of my day (although if i had a girlfriend i'd keep her stashed in the stairwell and use those instead). i've decided to test my clairvoyance while waiting for the elevator to come up, by picking which of the four elevators will come first (and when i need to feel like i'm talented and special, i cheat by not picking until i hear one). i'm not very psychic, but that's not a problem cuz of the elevator doors are highly reflective. up and down, up and down. hour after hour i look at myself. i fix my hair (which i don't actually style in the morning, unless weather permitting, i'm able to roll the window down driving to my elevators at work). i tell myself that my cordurouys aren't noticeably wrinkled. and then i get off (i'm talking exit the elevator, people).
that is, unless i'm on the elevator alone...and then i sing. freestyle. but it's not rap, it's definitely singing and it's great. and if i've been singing and someone else gets on the elevator, i stop singing. and then i think about how funny it would be if i kept singing while they stood in their corner giving me funny not-looks (i'm not sure if that corner is all the room they want, or if it's all the room my personality leaves for them). so i start laughing, out loud, for no readily apparent reason. and i think how odd they must think i am for laughing and i laugh more. i really don't need any of you to be happy.
actually, that kind of came up at lunch too. me and scott (my service center cohort) and lonnie (the old guy in charge of the kitchen) were just sitting around talking about something. and i said something and it's not important what i said and scott didn't respond, he just looked down at his tv dinner spaghetti. so i start laughing and they both look at me like what the hell are you on. i try explaining what i'm laughing and still laughing about and scott is just confused as hell but amused. finally, i give up and i said, "it doesn't matter. i know what i was talking about." scott said something witty and i responded, "anyways, you really only need one person for a conversation." they definitely think i'm an odd bird.
but what i really wanted to give to you after all this mess is the songs.
Song #1
iiiii consider myself quite the lucky fel-looooow
cuuuuz i've never ever cried
but
iiiif i ever haad too cry, iii'd
consider myself
consider myself
consider myself
quite
the lucky guy.
Song #2
when the wind hits your eye like
the wind in your eye
thaaat's a hurricane
Song #3
iii've got a little bit of butter
aaand it sticks to my plate
iii've got a little bit of butter
didn't you hear what i say
iii've got quite a bit of butter
aaand it won't leave my plate
i'd hate to see it go
but i'd really like to know
it was possibowl
iif i want-ed
i sang the first one to my mother once (we carpool home from work), and she wonders if i'm not driving myself crazy. what do you think?
when i met the girl
she tripped my world
so i came on to her right
away
she's like it seems like we got off
on the wrong foot, didn't we?
i did agree
so i lavished love on her left
my luck
she laughed
i hadn't enough so i asked
if she was ready for the next step
she nodded her head yes
so i put my foot in my mouth and
stepped on her toes
all in the same move
playing smooth. like it's plain to the naked eye
you ain't too bright
so why don't you blow me
Johnny: check the scnerio Billy Moreno: k
Johnny: I write a reply letter to a certain female who I speak about way too much Johnny: but I catch her on messenger Johnny: she really can't talk Johnny: I just ask her to reply Johnny: my letter Johnny: well........ Johnny: after a few days Johnny: my insecurity reaches a high Johnny: I mean I was freaking out Johnny: like what am I doing Billy Moreno: k
Johnny: saying be honest with me Johnny: don't worry about my feelings Johnny: tons of insecure stuff Johnny: well its been 6 days Johnny: and I'm going crazy Johnny: now I feel terrible Johnny: all the questioning Johnny: all the insecurity Johnny: I want to write another letter Johnny: but thats 3 stragiht letters Johnny: I 'm scared to do it Johnny: cause I mean 3 letters all with different views Billy Moreno: write this letter then give her time
Billy Moreno: it's human johnny
Johnny: so write this last one Billy Moreno: and honest
Johnny: yeah Johnny: I just wanted Johnny: to say Johnny: that it does'nt matter why she writes me or talks to me Johnny: is that she did and does Johnny: you know Billy Moreno: yeah
Johnny: cause humans waste too much time with quetions Johnny: we should accept our realities Billy Moreno: we should decide our realities
Johnny: I suppose Johnny: yes Billy Moreno: still no questions though
Johnny: yeah questionsa cause stress Johnny: and its just a sign of insecuirty Billy Moreno: and it really doesn't matter why she writes
Johnny: you got it Johnny: I just realized that …
Johnny: This is a disclaimer, one that is letting you know that our friend Ridilin is far from what you call sane, and would like to let everyone know he felt he had this point to prove and does'nt mind that it may bring insults or hatred towards him, if anything he has a sick sense of humor, one that may only amuse him and nobody else, but if you are amused then he was glad to be of service, and if you are not, then he probably will be amused by your dissapointment anyways, anyways like the ever so great Bobby McFerren said: "Don't worry, Be Happy"........, peace. …
Johnny: If I express everything on my mind, it would be alot, well it would amount to many minutes of enjoyable entertainment, or is that narcissim, maybe so, but I'm so important, little old me, the movie star, the one who will suceed and push you over that cliff of failure, hey I'd break your fall, but then that means I'd be stciking my neck out for you, and gullitine blocks are uncomfortable if you don't mind, so why don't I write a book, or maybe a movie script, everyone else is doing it, and don't forget we all believe we are more important, now listen to this, we all sit in front of these other beings with extremely large heads, I mean veins popping out of the skull, and these high and exaulted people Johnny: tell you whether or not what little old you wrote is worth a moment of thier time or if it was the biggest waste of breathing room on the planet, but I figure going number one in the bathroom is a waste of time, but we never critize our blatters, call it silly but typing this right now is a waste of my so called valuable time, I mean right now, I could be unselfish and love everything everybody else wrote, but then I'd need a fancy title like art critic to do so, oh no wait, no I don't, what I say means it all, and you should'nt worry that your personal love is the reason you write, oh wait but you want me to care, oh how sweet, wait a minute, you are not me, so I don't care cause I rule your universe, and you live in your own world, and we see our own visions, and what I see is a vast insecure movement, so cha cha cha........ Billy Moreno: cha cha cha
Billy Moreno: you are bugging out
Johnny: there is more Billy Moreno: k
Billy Moreno: lol
Johnny: Ok, I'd like to say you're so cool, I've never seen someone take over like you, you got this Poetry board Hitler thing going, maybe you're Stalin, maybe you're our leader, oh wait I'm sorry my knees refuse to lay down, and yeah I see you got this disorder, I do too, we got alot in common, we go around telling people we're right, which is like taking a left 3 blocks from here, then you have to look for the closest sweatshop, you know the ones that waste notebook paper, yeah I go there alot, its sorta easy, a whole bunch of us do it, its not really much of a paying job, but it makes us feel good, you know that smashing a headblock across somebody's head while on enough sleeping pills to drive in a hospital parking lot feeling, you relate I know you do, I know you know that feeling to sit down and go, "What can little old me(ah-hem), I mean amazing god like me will do next", Johnny: I know I know screams the eager student aka confidence, I'll make my presence known among others who share my capacity syndrome, its like moving in with your roomate and deciding its your place, when everyone has the rent but you feel if you contribute more its yours, so I'll shut up and sit back down on my stool in the dark corner, I forgot where I was, I forgot that I had to compete, no you I don't I'll just follow your trend, you're a leader, and I'll proudly wave the flag of participant, cause I had to admit I was impressed with all those topic titles, oh yeah, I forgot something, you don't mind if I join in, being that is it you're room, hmmm, I mean I just got a whole bunch of words too, I mean topics, oh no poetry, oh no songs, you know what I mean, this is fun, I just would like to thank you....... Johnny: Call this a reach program
the touch of your lifeguard
the odd man in your gallery
working on a savior's salary
So wake up and view your judgement
while words are thrown in stones clothing
I have this honesty problem
but its your agony
I only hope to cure the paralyzed
give the contact lenses to the teachers
and give swimming lessons to the followers
but how much convincing does it take
that maybe I'm here to lead the way
that I've found a voice amongst defmutes
I'll sacrifice my dignity for your moment
ok, here's what I know so far
that I know enough to break down our lies
and that I can undress your disguise
Call this a reach program
the touch of your lifeguard
the odd man in your gallery
working on a savior's salary
Johnny: I've seen that they can't accept it
so I embraced the unwanted orphans
explained the meaning of my crusade
some agreed it was about time for the second coming
I decided to show up and break hypnotism
and rip the wallpaper off the realism
but here's the problem, they call it a religion
they called it a government party
a cult who's following is growing largely
I'm just someone who's decided to decide'
tied the rope that hung my pride
they will see what it is
a philosophy with a perogitive
but will they understand the very truth
faith has no use....
Call this a reach program
the touch of your lifeguard
the odd man in your gallery
working on a savior's salary
Johnny: I stood amongst thier very eyes
they could'nt believe what they heard or saw
first things first:
Life:
it is existense, negativity in itself is resistance, you can't refuse the very reason you live, unless you decide to leave out the exit, yes there is a system that runs on a program, and yes they use it to master your destiny, but the plan is there is no plan, you have this free will, amongst those who don't believe in thiers, if it was possible to only gain from giving then you would'nt work for nothing, instead you live to satisfy the dissatisfied, which seperates the connections we should be making, cause we are just people after all, who had our places decided, but why is it we feel the surroundings decide our contribution to the script,you we can improvise and have this freedom to let the weight fall where it may, in a way this is only a day, and this is only a life Johnny: we are all given a chance to live, and you will decide if you want to admit you feel great everytime they smile back, but why must they smile, cause we can't wait for each other, we must start today, right now, thats right living, going outside, realizing that we don't control other's opinions, but that we control our own, and that very opinion is where happiness lies, basically put you are only as happy as you want to be, you don't have to act out happiness, you just have to be.....
Johnny: I read your blog Billy Moreno: i read your poem and posts
Billy Moreno: this is very good
Johnny: its not done Johnny: lol Billy Moreno: so what'd you think of my blogging?
Johnny: nice Johnny: I think I should do one Johnny: lol Johnny: but nobody would read mine Johnny: yours is wonderful Johnny: I liked Monkey's Uncle Billy Moreno: mine is a rambling mess
Johnny: but I'm such a groupie anyways Billy Moreno: and i throw in old poems when i have nothing to say
Johnny: ok Billy Moreno: you'd only be a groupie if i wasn't really great
Billy Moreno: in fact, i've got a few poems i'm going to throw in today
Johnny: And I decided to post something, what it really is has no more significance then writing about whether or not Bin Ladin wears boxers or briefs, maybe he does'nt, anyone want a jock strap? I would'nt use one since it hinders my sliding technique, but thats unimportant as the next amount of words, oh wow I wrote a run on sentance, hold on lets cripple my words a bit, now lets see:
You can't carry every twisted ankle victim
and wedlocks get stuck in transitions
so wait who's going to spare some change
cause I'm a finger pointer waiting for someone to blame...
Wow that was fun I guess I feel as though I'm capable I don't know of what, but hey its cool is'nt it?, like you would care, we really don't we appease each other with empty replies, oh wait I'm sorry, we love each other, hence we send love letters to each other and they mean so much to me
Billy Moreno: did you like my sports metaphor mess\
Johnny: , I thank you, except tommorow is a whole another script of moodswings and lustful temtations of attention spans give me thats or I'm going to whine before someone elses steals my advertisement time, I hate commercials anyways, you shameless promoter you, now can we hold hands and get this sweaty palm exchange over with, cause I'm so tired of pretending we hate each other, if anything you're sorta cute, especially when you cry all over you're brand name shirt, such a postcard, send it to me next week, so I can rememebr that depression is fun, and please remember we are so the same, very much losers in a winner's game........
Johnny: yes but now you must read Johnny: do not miss my pondering question about Bin Ladins Billy Moreno: i am reading and giggling
Billy Moreno: and not missing a bit
Johnny: Hey I'm not funny in the sitcom laugh track way, if anything I'm nonsense in a textbook with that superior knowledge complex, lets race with trains tracks and wait for the crossing, hammer my nails in, I'll smile at my newest prescriptions, wait in the middle of prescriptions is script, that movie role, I'm that type of guy who will always play that character questioning his existense, cause I have that look, that look is so me, and the end of character is acter which sounds like actor, so it is very convient, or so it seems, now here's something clever, we are friends right? Johnny: well friends end with end, so wait its not marriage which ends with age, it means to grow or gain experience, now did you realize that if friends end, and are'nt there to stay, are they trends, cause trends have ends, and ends is a slang word for cash, so now lets see, we got a trend, that makes ends, that intergrates friends, and it all must end, the audience applauds cause I'm just like them and me being a human being impresses them so much, now look again, but this time leave the camera on!!!!!! Billy Moreno: the stream of thoughts is still good but sometimes it seems a bit much...maybe too obvious. maybe. i'm not sure yet
Johnny: lol Billy Moreno: true
Billy Moreno: which ends in rue
Billy Moreno: and in the middle is u
Billy Moreno: ?
Johnny: lol Johnny: Hey don't laugh its as legitiment as ninfomania, it has alot to do with this lack of real true love I suppose, something about my parents not loving me, and not giving me hugs, will someone please nurture me, or give me a heart shape box full of chocolates, it would make me feel alot more appreciated, cause its all I need, ok, cause we don't have to commit just pretend to, matter of fact lets pretend this is enjoyable and deep, no even better lets pretend like we wrote this play and that we casted all the roles and choose all the extras, then it gives us that god perspective, you know the one where we feel the world is ours to control, but wait, its controllable, you ever play one of those things the kids nowadays are calling video games systems, Johnny: well like those joysticks, now the problem some decided to play without reading the instructions, heck even some of them just misinterpreted or made up thier own rules, oh there's rules,plenty of them, well not really, they are made up by those who already failed, and basically its heartbreaking to watch one succeed, where you already have failed, so here's the trade we'll give you an idea, and you'll decide what the meaning was, then we'll pretend you can't figure it out, and you'll feel like the right answer is wrong, then listen to this, here's the best part, we'll tell you some answer you never thought of, because it was so simple it was difficult, Johnny: like how every riddle is a joke with a bad ending, its not clever, its not even funny, it is in a way our escape from boredom which introduces you into a social circle of boredom, and we pretend this is'nt boring, oh wait its better then staring at our walls, which are our minds, which are our writings, which are our words, which are our lies, which maybe our truths spoken in distrustful forms, so hold on, you're telling me the meaning is that the meaning does'nt mean anything at all, that we create meanings to simplify the failure of the actual facts of the truth, well put it like this, has anybody lived to talk about death, but yet we know so much about it, now perceive that with your guard down, kiddies......... Johnny: well here's the last one Johnny: the ending Johnny: I hate everyone for some reason, why you ask, well......., because they praise human gods, a god who's ability is overhyped but wait, is'nt every god the same, well I'm not one to say, supposedly a blind man can't witness, but yet someone with blind faith sees it all, and wait who are you to know everything, well I asked god the same question still waiting on my answer, so I can make you wait as well, I'll promise you this, it will be great, so perfect and beautiful it will give meaning to every definition, and explain the unexplainable and make you realize how important every speck of dirt is, you'll be surprised if anything, but then maybe you don't want a reason Johnny: , just a lie, or better yet a dream, one we can chase and fail attaining over and over again, or even better yet I'll trick you into believe that dream will make your life worth every second, then you'll realize its not, sorry but hey who does'nt need a new dream, sorry you wanted something meaningful, oh wait you want something great, something so perfect and unattainable, I'll give you the perception of this shadowy figure, to be honest this is a joke, haha funny is'nt it.......... Billy Moreno: very good...are you gonna cleanit up at all?
Billy Moreno: i really like the blind faith line
Johnny: no Johnny: its a joke Johnny: the whole point is all writing is meaningless Johnny: we give it meaning Billy Moreno: yeah, but that doesn't mean you can't clean it up and save it
Billy Moreno: everything's a joke
Billy Moreno: i don't write meaning into my pieces
Johnny: but its just writing Johnny: its not important Johnny: my view you view Billy Moreno: people read em and ask me what i mean so i come up with something
Johnny: all views Johnny: well of course Billy Moreno: nothing's important except what people attach to it
Johnny: you got it Johnny: like the Bible Billy Moreno: so why not attach importance to this
Johnny: thats a piece of writing that has controlled generations Johnny: but in the end its a fuckin book Johnny: not a God Johnny: it has no more significance then the next man's book Johnny: it just was bestowed with it Johnny: thats was all Johnny: we right to entertain ourselves Johnny: and to entertain others Billy Moreno: but it's not just writing that has no inherent meaning
Johnny: well writing is given menaing Johnny: either by the reader Johnny: or by the writer themselves Johnny: but ask yourself what is writing Johnny: words Billy Moreno: everything's given meaning...people do things for reasons, but those reasons are arbitrary
Johnny: ok Billy Moreno: priorities are arbitrary
Johnny: but for example you're like clean it up Johnny: why Johnny: its just words Johnny: how can you use words better Johnny: in a way how can you explain your own feelings better then the actual explanation Billy Moreno: cuz i'm egocentric and to me and my arbitrary designations it would sound better cleaned up
Billy Moreno: i wanna create the world in my image
Johnny: yeah but thats an opinion Johnny: in the end its the same conveyed message Johnny: and to me as long as it was origginal in my own view, I'm satisfied Billy Moreno: opinions are fact
Billy Moreno: and fact needs to be redefined
Billy Moreno: and facts and opinions can and do change
Billy Moreno: and yet underneath it all i believe in an absolute reality, just one that has no definition or meaning
Johnny: yep Johnny: thats the point Johnny: so why do I have to improve my writing Johnny: to me you either enjoy or don't Billy Moreno: except that you can change it and it would be a differentthing and i could enjoy or not enjoy that
Billy Moreno: but if you know how you want it to sound and that's it...you're right, you don't need to change a thing
Johnny: well I don't care about it Billy Moreno: psh
Johnny: I have no reason to revisit my past thoughts Billy Moreno: psh
Johnny: thats all Billy Moreno: there is no past
Johnny: cool Billy Moreno: yep
Johnny: its cool Johnny: I'm just saying be less opiniated Johnny: I never felt like critizing your work cause I liked it Johnny: I can find flaws in anything Johnny: but I enjoy the body of work Billy Moreno: see this is where i get in trouble
Billy Moreno: and you should be able to say both and i should be able to hear both
Johnny: maybe Johnny: but sometimes I'd rather not say the negatives Johnny: they don't interst me Billy Moreno: why?
Johnny: just don't feel its necessary Billy Moreno: why should negatives interest you any less than positives
Billy Moreno: neither are necessary
Johnny: well if it is over whelmling negative Johnny: Iwill say something Johnny: but if I enjoy something I just enjoy the positives Billy Moreno: granted...but if you see room for improvement (while still enjoying)?
Johnny: no cause it takes away from the fafillment Johnny: I like to enjoy something not always critize it Billy Moreno: whose?
Billy Moreno: but isn;t that kinda inflated fulfillment?
Billy Moreno: like saying jordan shouldn't have come back cuz he'd tarnish his legacy?
Billy Moreno: negatives and positives aren't quantitative
Billy Moreno: there's no balance sheet
Johnny: but Jordan is still performing at a high level Johnny: if he came back and played terrible people willtell him Billy Moreno: but i'm saying...before he came back, people said he shouldn't cuz he would tarnish his legacy
Billy Moreno: how does him coming back and playing poorly affect what he's already done
Billy Moreno: how do things i see that could be improved in your writing affect what's right with it
Johnny: well here's better analogy Johnny: I don't care Johnny: like in a why it does'nt matter to me Johnny: I did'nt write that stuff to be improved or to be loved Billy Moreno: lol...that was an analogy
Billy Moreno: oh definitely..i agree
Billy Moreno: if you're just writing to write
Billy Moreno: you have no impetus to worry about it
Johnny: yep Johnny: but in the end it does'nt really matter
Billy Moreno: but that doesn't really have anything to do with how i read it
Johnny: the point is we write Johnny: we write for the stuf to be read Johnny: there's no need to rewrite Billy Moreno: it's not rewriting
Johnny: the point is it got read Billy Moreno: it's just more writing
Johnny: yeah but I've moved on Billy Moreno: is it less writing if you take more time planning in your head?
Billy Moreno: then move on
Johnny: I only plan some things I write Johnny: its how I approach it Johnny: some things I really put the effort into Billy Moreno: i don't plan ever...and i rarely (until lately) edit
Johnny: so you see thats the problem Johnny: you approach my stuff like your work Johnny: it will take the joy away from it Johnny: the humor the sensibility Johnny: its on you to do that Billy Moreno: oh nah...see i enjoy it anyway
Billy Moreno: i separate criticism from appreciation
Billy Moreno: movies that i think aren't good, i still watch
Billy Moreno: and not condescendingly
Johnny: thats funny Johnny: I can't watch a bad movie more then once Billy Moreno: that's cuz your not opening up to it...you approach movies like your job and it takes away the humor and sensibility
Billy Moreno: or something
Johnny: well pornons ar funny to me Johnny: pornos* Johnny: but I still can't watch them Billy Moreno: yeah, i couldn't see watching a porno as a regular movie
Johnny: well even regular movies Johnny: like I saw this movie Apt. Pupil Johnny: I thought it was so wasteful Johnny: I could'nt enjoy it Billy Moreno: hmm...
Billy Moreno: navy seals 2 - bona fide classic
Johnny: lol Johnny: I have to see that Billy Moreno: it's some cheesy action movie. every motion is accompanied by a swishing sound effect
Johnny: haha Johnny: oh I see Johnny: I'm not much of a action guy Johnny: except for Hard Boiled and The Killer Johnny: I love those 2 Billy Moreno: at one point this guys just in some conversation and he's making normal conversation movements and you can't keep up with which swish is attached to which motion
Johnny: haha Billy Moreno: and then for some reason at the end of the movie, people are getting cut in half or taking poles through their chests and surviving (while the rest of the movie was just normal action violence)
Johnny: haha Billy Moreno: and none of the characters get developed but people have these strong one-dimensional passionate interactions
Johnny: haha Johnny: thats you Billy Moreno: lol...me?
Johnny: I need charater development Johnny: its one of the reasons I care about movies Billy Moreno: lol...i like it too. but this movie is sublime
Johnny: I feel ewvery movie has a character who represents people I know Johnny: if that is taken away Johnny: I lose some of the fun Billy Moreno: that's goofy
Johnny: yeah I know Johnny: but thats what I look for Johnny: cause I know some weird people
i've been busy learning the html i need to play around with this site. and doing a little tweaking. but now it's time for bed. i'll just have to double up on the entries tomorrow (and since i planned on doing to tonight, it will be quite the bonanza (the fuck am i using that word for?)).
consider this...the whole casual sex event is usually premeditated (except for who the partner is) and highly formulaic.
if anyone can tell me how to program comment capabilities into my blogs, i'll love you and yours. obviously you can't leave a reply to this entry telling me how; try the email link up top.
one of these days i'll feel comfortable enough not to start every entry with the crutch of acting like i'm trying to figure out what i'm going to write about. i mean, i really don't know yet but it's not like i have a word count or deadline to meet. and mom said she wouldn't grade to harshly either. until then though, i'm working on a 5-line handicap. actually, i feel like i'm michael jordan asking my opponent to spot me point game in a one-on-one. don't worry about who i'm competing against. don't bother asking what score we (we'll just assume someone else for now, ok) are playing to. and don't try telling me that this is a personal journal and not an exhibition.
i am the main event, the halftime show, and all of the commercial spots. i'm responsible for the color commentary and the play-by-play. and if i win, i lose (either way, i thank god for all of my successes...even if on this particular night, my game was unfocused and i overextended my metaphor late in the first half). the team doctor is pushing for surgery, but i'm uncomfortable with taking a knife to my body of work. so we'll limp on, author and reader together. i'm sorry in advance if i lean too much on you not knowing what i'm talking about.
i'll be a monkey's uncle A Poem
i'm a repeating decimal set to a respectable decibel i'm a
repeating decimal set to a set to a i'm a (laugh track)
i'm a broken record
and for the record i take no responsibility*:
jezebel left her phone number this morning
the sex wasn't that phenomenally spectacular
but she liked the conversation made in the way of foreplay
hush...children are watching where from the stealth helicopter two can play that game. but i'm too busy
making fun of the board to even bother trying to win
i'm not bored. my father-in-stilled a scent of urgency to sport
the end result: i don't care how i do
but i'd like to see you lose
"i wanna thank you all for being so unsuccessful
so at the next last supper
i'll announce the winner of the award everyone's waiting to wear"
you all want to be by yourself (in front of littlebilly)
and not have to put up (down and out)
with anybody else i see it in your eyes the slump
of your shoulders baring
the burden of making sense
i'm in lightened and end and (*see above) no responsibility
my likes are:
long walks on short tempers...i like to see things through
and i know you have a meaning
if only i could catch the things she threw meaning
and i caught on t.v. all the things she's been through meaning
i'm inpressed endtired
of the distinkshun between concrete images and personal abstractions
there is no difference between abuilding apictureofabuilding and
threefrogssittingonalilypadinthemiddleofacornfield
can't you see the point i'm making? no. but our children our in a talespin
what about the other no responsibility
another tragic end to another perfect beginning
why does it always have to end this way ?
why are there always beginnings
why am i so perfect
why do you have to hear this with the same brain that chooses
between import and domestic
why did i have to say that
why did you have to see this with the same eyes
oedipus put out just cuz your mother put out? why did i have to say that
i feel put upon
put on a red dress and bat your eye lashes in high fashion no responsibility
i feel put on (off and on) and it's wearing me out (in and out)
why did i have to say that when you were happy
with your lack of freedom that was really and truly freedom
cuz you had no knowledge that you had no freedom know freedom
this caged bird sings cuz the world out side is ugly and i,
don't-have-to-deal, with it
the world outside is scary and some one
i've never met tells her to leave me alone
i know
why this caged bird sings
cuz that caged bird has nice hips and on the tip of her
lips is the answer i'm looking for
so if i could just.coax it out of there
i'd be happy
in fact i'll be a monkey's uncle
beating my chest while you sit
there and watch the whole thing i'll be a monkey's uncle
and you'll be the godson of - who is it this ?
time - jesus the honorable elijah mohammed
that child abandoned at the foot of the library stairs
sitting with the soapbox i his hands sitting
on the floor with the pedastal in his hands i'll be a monkey
's uncle. and you'll thank me for that
i'm a broken man
i guess that first entry wasn't really an introduction, at least not what most people would call an introduction. i, with my healthy disregard for definition (along with convention, tradition, identity and rationality among others), feel like it gives a good idea of how i talk and what i talk about and whether or not you're going to want to keep reading. but i'm willing to compromise because i want you to keep reading and i want you to feel like you know where i'm coming from (a word of caution: i keep an address at these random facts, but i'm not one for settling down). so without further ado (and a promise to cliche sparingly), here are my statistics (in no meaningful order):
Billy Moreno -born on June 21st, 1981...it might have been father's day, but if not, it was still close enough for me to say so.
-allegedly i'm on the gemini/cancer cusp but i couldn't tell you how that works so i won't argue about it. plus i feel more unique this way.
-height: 6'0". just barely, and what a godsend. being 6' really opens up the world for you. people get turned down for jobs based on their height.
-weight: i fluctuate between 185 and 200. 185 is my playing weight though.
-hair: brown and long. i mean, it's not girl-long, but i do wear it in my eyes. i think it looks good, my mother thinks it looks terrible and she probably thinks i think it looks
either artistic or rebellious. most other people think i look like dave grohl, although i'm not sure if that's cuz of the hair or my face in general.
-eyes: hazel. they have flecks of grey and green and brown and a little little blue too. i have pretty long full eyelashes. sometimes i wear mascara and some of those times i smear it on purpose. my mother told me she thought i was having a gender-identity crisis (after i told her i didn't think i was gay).
-i was a sophomore at the University of Texas majoring in philosophy and english. i took last fall off after i didn't show up for the first week of class. i actually spent most of that time on campus but i just wasn't interested in going to class. then i couldn't go back this semester because of financial issues.
-instead, i'm working fulltime in the mailroom at Public Strategies Inc. (they're more than a PR firm), where i spend most of the downtime writing and wasting time online while anxiously keeping an eye out for my boss, who encourages me to be creative about staying busy.
-Scott, who works with me (who happens to be a scriptwriter and actor), was a prime example of such creativity (although he insisted he was just bored and didn't have anything else to do (like writing and wasting time)) spent most of last week hanging up and placing various types of organizers. i'd rather be anxious than look busy.
-but, the book is coming along decently. i'm writing a long, long poem (don't ask me how long, i don't even know what it's about yet and i'm 10 pages deep). i'd say it's stream-of-consciousness and that it'll stop when i feel tapped, but it's too organized for that (although you'd never notice it). i plan on dedicating it to my paranoid schizophrenic grandmother, but if i write most of it at work i'll have to seriously reconsider.
-my mother is an HR director at a law firm that represented ford when they turned on firestone last year (i guess, i have a poor grasp of time. especially with things that are so unrelated to me).
-my father ran his own girls' high school sports magazine in new york city last year. he didn't have enough credit to wait out another year without profits to live on (although he almost broke even, which is impressive for a first year publication). now he's selling advertising for the largest weekly paper in brooklyn.
-they have been separated since i was in kindergarten and got divorced some time around 7th grade. i grew up in elmont, ny (pretty close to the Belmont Racetrack). we moved over the summer after 7th grade (the year i had finally started feeling like i was fitting in at school after years of being considered a nerd. elementary school girls don't usually appreciate love poems, it seems.)
-since then i've been shy around girls i'm interested in. and that, as well as a general self-confidence, comfort being alone, and pretty high standards, is why i've only had one real girlfriend (i'm not counting the one fake girlfriend i had in junior high. or the girl friend in elementary school) ever. and part of the reason why i was a virgin til i was 20, whatever that means. we broke up in october, but we're still friends. her name is ingrid and she's studying in france for the semester.
-the shy around girls thing is interesting...cuz i flirt a lot. i flirt with girls i don't have any interest in. i flirt with i girls i really like. but i'm so playful in general and about flirting specifically (and i mean playful. not goofy) that it never leads to anything. and i never ask for anything. i don't want to ask, i want you to offer.
-i think love should be about coinciding with someone...i don't believe loyalty is necessary for love. although if you love someone, you will be loyal. actually, i should talk about all this later. but i'll leave this, cuz i'm going to try and edit as little as possible.
in fact. that should be enough of an introduction for you, kids.
see you tomorrow.