Winds and Clouds

4:13: I miss a call from Matt Mason. I'm supposed to grab dinner with him later so I figure it's about confirming plans or rescheduling etc. False.

"I was thinking about people who would be down for spontaneous adventures and you were the first to come to mind."

Sold.

An hour and a half later we're in the parking lot of 'The Afton Inn'. The entire valley is beneath us. The sun is setting. It's absolutely breathtaking. I've never seen anything remotely like this. I hope Matt's not trying to hook up.

He's not.

Matt's been taking pictures for as long as I've known him. He actually made my first stop motion movie with me first year. He had a suspicion and he was right. Today was absolutely the perfect day. I normally hate looking at the blast-faced rocks on that drive. It's an ugly reminder of how we haphazardly carve our way through nature (I'm not a tree-hugger by any means, but it's just ugly. Simple as that). After the huge storm we had though, every single cliff face and crevice was turned into an absolutely gorgeous cascade. The ordinarily bold outcroppings were sheened with softening rivers and impromptu waterfalls. I've never seen anything like it and the only word I know how to describe it is magnificent. And this was only us flying down the highway at 60.

Then we got to the water tower.

I wrote 7 different short stories in my head while we were there. Seven.

I was worried I was done writing things period, let alone short stories that formed in my head based on single events or images. Like the Cadillac DeVille with one flat tire and tags that expired two weeks ago. I thought I was done being inspired for the time being.

I was wrong.

God, do I have a lot to learn.

I don't know if this is a return to blogging. I hope it is because this feels good but I simply don't know.

I do know I've been writing up a storm. Composing too. I do know that I easily have some of the best friends ever. I do know that I've been wasting time.

I do know I don't know much about life. Teach me.

Meaning will scream at your face and leave you no option to deny it.

More often meaning whispers in your ear and leaves you the options of laughing or crying.

Since when did you let stupid personifications stop you from living your goddamn life!?

D=f(x)

"Poetry was never really my thing"

Is what I'll tell people when I'm grown

Boy: I think that love is like a game of hide and seek. You spend your time looking for someone and hiding from the people you don't like until the right person comes along.
Girl: I think you're wrong.
Boy: So what do you think love is like?
Girl: Love is like russian roulette. It's the gun at your temple. One bullet. And the rest are blanks. You pull the trigger. Hear the gunshot. Feel the recoil.
Boy: And?
Girl: It's a blank. But you're still waiting for the one that's going to blow your mind.


Boy: So am I your bullet?
Girl: No. Just another blank.

So the hardest part about blogging after a looooong hiatus is finding something worthy to blog about. I'm simply not going to be able to do that.

But I did find some random thoughts from balks when I did blog in my balkspalks just now and I think that I can start from there and build up (which seems much more appealing to me as of late anyhow).

So in no particular order, here are the things I was thinking about last summer:

-Karma isn't really that much of a bitch if you really think about it....
-That's hear rending. Nobody should be ready for that. How can you be?
-Friends make a lot of things better. Thanks Phillip.
- (not my thought) *picture of a drum* Thanks Hunter Scott
-Good thing Tasia has a bf now
-I've never wanted something so badly

Habits are formed through rehearsal.

I'm really excited about tonight. Historically, the penguins champion everything, especially with Skyy.

BAM-BAM!!!!

Man, when left to his own devices, can be the bane of his own very existence.

A mind, when left to its own devices, will allow a man to soar before bringing him to his knees.

Deflated

The poem got canned,

The usual lyrics no longer apply,

The downside of creativity

Is not when it runs dry

(The sincerity of rhyme

Is always in question...)

Finding this amid the clouds in your coffee

Or that in the cracks of the sidewalk,

It isn't hard to find your game

Or make up my own rules

I wish it hadn't been so humid today. It was really nice outside, but really muggy. So I opted to spend the majority of my day inside with Ryan playing the original Halo. How all beautiful Saturdays should be spent...

I wrote the title to this post before I even knew what I was gonna put up. I never do that, it's limiting. Only this time it just seemed right.

And besides, despite the morose title I feel better. I know why too, which is always more rewarding.

"There is no way our shirt cured AIDS"

A little more PBS and then time for bed.

W.T.F.

Last summer at band camp and throughout the season, we had the privilege of our very own camera crew. They were filming a documentary about marching band and for some reason decided to use UVa as one of their lead bands. They were French, thus the subject of many cheap jokes but also pretty cool. Partied with us a couple times, I got the hot producer to put out her french cigarette and dance with me at the BOX. Basically, all around chill people.

And then they went and pulled shit like this.

Look at this promo poster:

Do you see that? DO YOU SEE THAT?!

Disgusting...

Filthy isn't it?

Look at all those... all those black people...

Now, ordinarily I wouldn't be mad. I mean hey, instead of making sure their diversity ratio is just PC enough , they just took whatever pictures they had and made a pretty cool collage. Respect, right?

Wrong.

They fucked up on one important detail: They didn't put me in it.

WHAT THE HELL, GUYS! Out of maybe 7 black people in the band, you pick the 6 that aren't ME?! Even Dave Chappelle's on the damn poster...

I say we rise against this fascist corporation of cheap, liberal, European independent film makers and boycott their filth rags. Or at least get a picture of me on one of their promo posters...

Seriously though, I did the math... There was like an 86% chance of me being on that poster. You suck.

"WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?"

Not as emo as it sounds, just a legitimate question i was asked recently.

Old Navy has a really disturbing marketing technique. Talking mannequins. Fusked up....

It's weird, I miss people I've seen today and I miss people who i haven't seen since el charro's. Sad. I can't wait till you come balks.

It seems we living the american dream
But the people highest up got the lowest self esteem
The prettiest people do the ugliest things