True Blue

monday

I got the two new Bright Eyes singles today. And somebody called me 'sunshine'. I am smiling.


I find it funny how such seemingly insignificant occurences can function so many different ways and on so many levels. Today I found out that I missed an exam in italian, I forgot the paper I needed to turn in for philosophy on my desk in my apartment and I spent money, which is something I should never do. Actually spending money can be justified to a certain extent if (1) it is spent on some creditable form of art (because, usually, the art does more for you than the money you spent on it ever could), if (2) it is spent on some intoxicating substance or if (3)it is spent as a gift or on a gift for another. Food should be free, water should be free, knowledge should be free, time should be free. We don't owe anyone for these things because they are in our nature. Actually, now that I've thought it over for a second, the only circumstance under which we should pay for any intoxicating substance is if it had to be made. Preparing a drug for the purpose of using it to forget that we have no purpose, to me, is an art.
And so on.

SO all of this on my mind and I am laughing. Sometimes my frustration and these frequent moments of despair become weightless. I must say, it is nice being sunshine.

Sunday Sunday Someday

. 

So I've found that lately I walk around in circles. Back and fourth, back and fourth. At first I blamed it on my absent-mindedness. That is part of it, I'm sure, but it's not enough to explain it. Maybe I have lost my mind? No, thats not it either. I've lost direction.
Where am I going and what will I do when I get there? Will I ever get there at all? Probably not. I will find some quiet place along the way and never leave it. I'll end up walking in circles there, round and round, back and fourth. I know I can't excape it. I will never be able to spell it out. I can think about it, pry into it until my ears bleed. My thoughts are no different, though...round and round and round. And, yes, it can get nauseating. Thats what the booze is for, I guess.
You know what I hope my problem is? I hope that I'm evolving, a natural selection of the mind. It seems like it is just the same thing over and over and over again, but maybe I'm missing something in my reflection. The subtle changes whose newness is overlooked while, once they have enough of a presence to be noticed, are taken for granted. I hope.

Letting Off the Happiness

life is a beach and then you die

One thing that I have grown to consistenly and genuinely despise is the concept of expectations. They are limiting, and they constantly demand definition. It's enough to make you sick. The world, society, everything and everyone has to live up to expectations and preconcieved notions, and it all has expectations of YOU. Whats worse, the fact that we take this as a given, like it is right and there is no other way to live, enables consequences. Lessons. We can no longer comfortably just be who we are, for we have too many expectations of ourselves. We pick a role and we play it. I want to be a philosopher, therefore I expect myself to do what philosophers do. I want to be a rockstar, therefore I must commit to things that aren't myself, I must fit myself into a certain mold of characteristics, mindsets and abilities. I can't just be something, I must become it. I have to conform even to be myself. Life is hard sometimes. I mean most of the time.
I think one of the more difficult things once you understand this is having to watch and endure your freinds, family, lovers, society and your own struggle with expectations, knowing that there is nothing you can do about it, you can't just accept it, only adapt to it. I have found apathy to be a fairly effective route, but only on the personal level, because the struggle still remains in others and you inevitably experience it through them.
Nobody really knows what they're doing or to what end they're doing it for. Unless, of course, it is to satisfy an expectation or standard set by somebody else, which has then been accepted. With all expectations aside, maybe there isn't anything to do. There is nowhere we truely need to be. It may sound narcissistic, but in this state, WE are something, finally. We don't become something, we just are. Ourselves. There is nothing else, until we begin to realate to the world again. Realize that you are sitting in a chair, in front of this screen, reading, possibly falling asleep...thinking about how all this is BS. Maybe you are thinking about how you want to be more like me or feel the way I feel or see things through my eyes (a very common occurence, I rule). Ah, but there you go conforming!
It's difficult.
Yet in a sense it puts things in perspective, even makes things easier.
Don't let people control you, who you are or what you are becoming.
Someone whom I hold with very high regard once wrote in a song:

"I have learned that nothing is as pressing
As the one who's pressing would like you to believe
...
And I find that life is easier when it's just a blur
With no details to confuse who or what or where I was
So when the ending comes the full regret will seem obscure"

6 points to anyone who knows who that someone is.
So, I guess the whole purpose of this entry is to say, stop worrying! Tell everyone to shut up for a second, give yourself a break. Try and appriceate who you are, not what your worth. Potential can be disabling, petty, fascist bullshit sometimes. Classification is propaganda, a way to sort us out with our worth as our weight. Don't worry about that. Don't worry about yourself. Chill. If everyone could do this, it would make my life easier anyways, and maybe we wouldn't feel so alone.

Yeah, yeah---ain't it the truth?

...art...

"I had no respect whatsoever for the creative works of either the painter or the novelist. I thought (the painter) with his meaningless pictures had entered into a conspiracy with millionaires to make poor people feel stupid. I thought (the novelist) had joined hands with other old-fashioned story tellers to make people believe that life had leading characters, minor characters, significant details, insignificant details, that it had lessons to be learned, tests to be passed, and a beginning, middle and an end.
"As I had apporaoched my fiftieth birthday, I had become more and more outraged and mystified by the idiot decisions made by my countrymen. And then I had come suddenly to pity them, for I understood how innocent and natural it was for them to behave so abominably, and with such abominable results: They were doing their best to live like people invented in storybooks. This was the reason Americans shot each other so often: It was a convenient literary device for ending short stories and books.
"Why were so many Americans treated by thier government as though their lives were as disposable as paper facial tissues? Because that was the way authors customarily treated bit-part players in their made-up tales.
"And so on."
"Once I understood what was making America such a dangerous, unhappy nation of people who had nothing to do with real life, I resolved to shun storytelling. I would write about life. Every person would be exactly as important as any other. All facts would also be given equal weightiness. Nothing would be left out. Let others bring order to chaos. I would bring chaos to order, instead, which I think I have done.
"If all writers would do that, then perhaps citizens not in the literary trades will understand that there is no order in the world around us, that we must adapt ourselves to the requirements of chaos instead.
"It is hard to adapt to chaos, but it can be done. I am living proof of that: It can be done."



...interesting...I love satire.

The Feel Good Revolution

Conor

So, the day finally came. The Bright Eyes show. It delivered everything that was promised.
The Facts:
1) Bright Eyes, namely Conor Oberst, is my #1. Undeniably.
2) The other artists that were there (M. Ward, Jim James and Mike Mogis) are amazing.
3) Conor Oberst (the brains behind the whole project and the groups only constant member) is a wonderkid, a genuis beyond his years. He was playing in a band (Commander Venus---I highly recommend) when he was only 14 years old and hasn't stopped making tracks since, and it's ALL better than good. He is my hero.

The show started on time, opening with Portlands very own M. Ward, a bluesy indie artist and a beautiful guitar player. He literally seduces you with every note. He rocks. This was followed by many solo and collaborative performances by all the artists on the tour, which they themselves deemed "A Night with the Monsters of Folk". During one of Conors solos, a dead-drunk girl tried to throw herself over the balcony (the show was at the Roseland Theatre in Portland) and was only caught by a friend two seconds before she could have seriously maimed herself. It was so disrupting, Conor stopped his melody and just directed a boyish, irritable stare towards all the commotion until breaking the silence with "Waste of Paint" from his most recent album, Lifted, followed by "One Foot in Front of the Other" from the Saddle Creek 50.
Then, he progressively got himself good and drunk (earning the pet name Co-neer O-beerst, given to him by Jim James), kicking over a beer onto his pedals, hitting himself in the face with the mic while tuning his acoustic, making slurred statements about target, sprinkling his speech with four-letter words and finally knocking over the mic and leaning on his bandmates to the point of losing rhythm. It was glorious. Jim James, the lead of the group My Morning Jacket, also brought his own element, busting out about a minute and a half beat solely using the top of his electric-acoustic, breaking free from his heavy folk roots and add a little more flavor to the mostly mellow set. Also, the presence of Mike Mogis was an amazing treat. Mogis has produced tracks and albums for most all of the groups on Saddle Creek Records and groups such as The Gloria Record and was also a member of Lullaby for the Working Class. A legend of indie music, modestly speaking.
The experience tossed me into a whole new world of appriceation for Bright Eyes, Conor, and it gave me hope for the genre.
After the show was over, Eric and I went around the back of the venue to maybe catch a glance or have a conversation with Conor or any one of the guys that felt like fraternizing. Mike Mogis and Jim James made breif cameos but all Conor could muster was a small, inhebriated wave while stumbling to the bus. A small dissapointment, but oh well. After a show like that he doesn't owe us anything.
Eric and I left around 1:30 with our newfound friend Moona, a nice girl we met while waiting in the rain. We gave her a ride to a friends house in SE and then made our way back home.
I am highly anticipating the new Bright Eyes albums , which will be out in January.
Also, since we're somewhat on the subject of Saddle Creek...The Faint is playing the Roseland on Nov 7th. I'll be there. Check it out.

You can find more pics of the show here.

College again

summer

So I'm back at school and things are up and running. I am now living off campus in a three bedroom appartment and it's sweet. My room now, just my bedroom, is bigger than the room I was living in last year with another person. Screw the dorms!
Anyways I had a pretty good summer all in all, lots of fun activities including working at the pool, Warped Tour, Bumbershoot, Las Vegas and a private mini concert from one of my favorite bands. Ah yeah. I'll go into all of these soon but for now I must put away groceries and drink.