My whole room feels as thought it just went swimming. My bed is damp, my computer has a moist sheen to it, and i am sticking to my clothes. At first i thought i forgot to close our window last night, but in fact the culprit is our HVAC unit. It draws in air from outside the window, and doesn’t appear to filter it especially much, which means it’s just as soggy in here as it is out there. It figures; the one night Viktor manages to go to sleep without turning the air conditioning off is the most humid night of the month. Of course, i blame him for just about everything that goes wrong in this room, and rightly so. The boy just lacks common sense (so much more than i do). For example, last night we were chatting about our new apartments, and he mentioned that his electricity was already on. I asked him if it was included in the price of his rent and he seemed to think it wasn’t. He proceeded to reason that since it was already on, he wouldn’t have to tell the electric company it was in his name, and could live off of someone else’s payments for months. I tried in vain to point out the flaws in this plan, such as unexpectedly losing electricity or being billed for months he did not live there, but was not entirely surprised when Viktor just said “ah, yes” and then promptly ignored me. Later last night he returned from dropping a few things off at his apartment, and informed me that halfway through his visit the electricity went out. It was too ironic for me to even laugh.
Archives for August 2000
None of my newfound sleeping skills have aided me in keeping my eyes firmly shut through early morning trans-atlantic calls to Bulgaria by my roommate sitting two yards away from my sleeping form. I took a personality test last night that informed me that i was a pushover. At first i objected, but soon i agreed. In fact, i am the worst kind of pushover: a compliant one. Once i get over my initial bitching i just go along with whoever is making my life miserable, only pausing to be passive agressive towards them. For example, if i turn up my music in an attempt to get back at someone, i still turn it down at the very loud parts. Sad, isn’ it?
I never used to be able to sleep on my back; it was just too distracting to have my eyes facing anything other than a pillow or a wall. That habit changed after i broke my collarbone, since i couldn’t find a way to get onto my stomache, and sleeping on my side just ground two pieces of freshly broken bone together. As a result, i learned to sleep on my back. I think my learning was enhanced by the fact that i am usually dead tired by the time i get to the bed. In the past i used to be one to stay up for hours, tossing and turning, but these days i seem to have designated the bed as being used just for sleeping and my sleep process goes much more smoothly that way.
My next demo CD seems far off in the future, but i was all but two songs away from completing my last demo (art and all) by this time last year. Of course, that demo was drawn from about two years of songwriting. However, this one might be too; i am not totally opposed to redoing songs that i still feel a connection to (look for “Bridge” to make another appearance). Assuming that this demo is at least 80% already-written (and it might not be), the material it would feature is interesting. It would have a significant overlap with my last demo, and contain only a few new “breakout” songs such as “Never Say Goodbye.” Gina would definitely appear on it, both playing and singing, as would a host of other people. And so on and so on. However, in reality it will be over six months before the demo is recorded and so it is a very maleable thing. As such, i invite you to register your opinion on what it should contain as compared to the last one. You can vote even if you don’t have a copy; in general, any song that appears on both my audio library and my demo is the same version on each.
a new song i found myself working on tonite. very influenced by the new elastica album
make it last Fri, 25 Aug 2000 14:33:01 -0400 beneath my breath i speak these words to you and i feel like death but i haven't got a clue what to do and i feel like i never was born are you for real or do i even care that much any more i'll open my eyes if you take my picture i'll open my arms to the next disaster i'll open my mouth if you kiss me harder i'll open my heart if you make it last pin me down or tack me to your wall i'll be your butterfly dry me out and make me crawl i'd be your ignorance if you we're already in bliss i'd be your second chance if you hadn't already used it i'll open my... am i your injury do i burn you deep inside take away my decency and you leave me just with pride and i wish i had never met you am i an optimist to think i wouldn't be fucked up then i'll open my...
While walking down the hallway to the bathroom, i was contemplating whether the layout of this page is at all inviting to the casually drawn in observer. I don’t particularly think it is, given my zeal for dark layouts; white is much more eye catching. For a split second i considered inverting the page’s colours and switching the background to the ubiquitous clouds. Than i remembered what the psychics over at torrez.org said about that. Apparently, if i want any kind of shelf-life, i need to lay off those fluffy white thought-mobiles. Oh well, i like darkness anyhow…