I Made A Promise I Couldn't Refuse

Hey everybody.

Sorry but contrary to what I said there won't be a report on Narnia...

Unitl I see it again.

For me to in any way start to write about the GLORY that I saw the first time I HAVE TO SEE IT AGAIN. Which I will in a few days when I head home.

Everyone, I ask that you do me a HUGE favor and pray for me because tomorrow, (Thursday) I have two really hard finals. Western Civ and Mass Communication. I will be so glad when I'm done but I will appreciate some prayer.

I'm coming home Friday around noon so I'll be in town from about 4 that afternoon til about the 9th (I think) of January.

OH YEAH.

Before I forget....

WAYNE HAS A XANGA!!!!!
(confetti)

Yeah, check it out and see if you like the color scheme.
http://www.xanga.com/waynegrayson

Anyway...Mass Com book awaits...

College is soooo....

College.



Good Providence

"Aslan? Why,... don't you know? He's the King."

Grettings friends.

Ok, so I'm sure like me you're all jumping out of your skin for the glory that will be Narnia in movie form that will grace our eyes starting tomorrow.

I'm definately preparing myslef to be rocked.

Hard.

So in the celebration of anticipation here's a song by our friends Relient K.

I haven't been a huge fan of theirs until recently.

Recently meaning until they released their Apathetic Ep.
It's great.
Go buy it.
But don't steal it.
Nick is gay for that.
Anyway.

Here's the song that was inspired by The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
Wish I could figure out some way to put the audio file up here so you could listen. But if anyone wants to hear it just gimmie your email and i'll get it to you through the wonder that is techonology.

"In Like A Lion (Always Winter)"

It's always nice to look out the window
And see those very first few flakes of snow
And later on we can go outside
And create the impression of an angel
that just fell from the sky

When February rolls around
I'll roll my eyes
Turn a
cold shoulder
to these even colder skies
And by the fire
my heart it heaves a sigh
For the green grass waiting on the other side

It's always winter
but never Christmas
It seems this curse just can't be lifted
Yet in the midst of all this ice and snow
Our hearts stay warm cause they are filled with hope.

It'd be so nice to look out the window
And see the leaves on the trees begin to show
The birds would congregate and sing
A song of birth
a song of newer things
The wind would calm and the sun would shine

I'd go outside and
I'd squint my eyes
But for now I will simply just withdraw
Sit here
and wait
for this world to thaw

And everything it changed overnight
This dying world you brought it back to life
And deep inside I felt things
Shifting
everything was melting
Away oh away
And you gave us the most beautiful of days

Cause when it's always winter
but never Christmas
Sometimes it feels like you're not with us
But deep inside our hearts we know
That you are here and we will not lose hope

SO there. It's awesome huh? Staples would be proud.
You can definately expect a report on the movie.
Much Love

Good Providence

Photography

"Photography"
by The Starting Line

I've never been so happy
to see a photograph of me
then when graced with your company.

You're making a small change to the way
that you wear your heart.
I like it better...I like it... I like it better now

I'll swing from a streetlight
as I will sing oh, oh, oh
I'm stuck in the meantime
but we're so oh, oh, oh close

The sunlight's overwhelming the scene
that's composed of you and me in our finest moment.
An amazing illusion was made with trick photography
it seems like you're really...you're really...
it seems like you're really here.

I'll swing from a streetlight
as I will sing oh, oh, oh
And I'm stuck in the meantime
but we're so oh, oh, oh close

I'm grilled by a spotlight
And sing oh, oh, oh
we're still in the meantime
but we're oh so, oh so close.

I'll swing from a streetlight
and sing oh, oh, oh
And I'm stuck in the meantime
but we're so oh, oh, oh close
we're so close.
we're so close.

REVISION!

Hey everyone. I revised swimming clothes for my english class. The revision is below this post. Please check it out. THERE ARE MAJOR CHANGES!!!!!

good ones though

GOOD PROVIDENCE

Soaked

LIKE I SAID. IT'S REVISED! TELL ME IF YOU LIKE THE CHANGES OR HOW THEY AFFECTED YOUR THOUGHTS.


Swimming Clothes



Missing the point…

An empty aisle,
as far as you could see.
A golden carpet highway
to the beach of my insides.
A street of gold
paved in Berber,
the fibers tainted
the result of the heavy traffic
of unwashed feet.

So, I wasn’t driving, right?
(Immaturity enhanced by a lack of depth perception
and a crippling amnesia always means the same thing.)
Passenger side,
front seat,
brand new eyes absorbing
brand new sites
and the faces of
the rest of
the Body
of drivers.

Little did I know,
that the highway gets lonely,
exits look appealing,
and the next thing you know,
you’re at a gas station
in Memphis
asking directions
from someone born thousands of miles away
from here.

Or anywhere that you’re going for that matter.

That’s why carpooling makes sense.

(Tangents will be the life of me.)

With signs in sight,
(billboards supporting the driver's decision...)
my mother gets excited,
and assures my Father,
they’re happy tears.

Everyone wanted them to leave me at home.

“He can’t even swim.
What if he hates the water, or
drowns?
You’ll never forgive yourself.
He’ll be
more guilty of not swimming than if
he had never gotten wet.”

Smiling,
Dad replies,
“Well, we like the water. It’s a risk we’re willing to make.”



Looking snazzy…

My brand new swimming clothes adorned,
I’m foreshadowing in the flesh;
dressed in the water’s hopeful effect.

Wish I could see my feet.

My dad parks the car the same way he always does.
from the Right.
NOT THE lEFT.
From the car I see the beach.
I am in awe.
My parents don't take notice
because
I
"always have that look on my face."

Finding the end of the
black
pavement's grip
that quickens my parents' steps,
I notice their feet being invaded by
white.
It appears to be
dirt,
but the substance is much
too clean to be
dirt.

I resolve that what It is,
is what I have been missing.

The water’s edge approaches
and as the echoing waves’
song of visibility
rings clearer and clearer,

everything stops.

No one is talking and
(except for the occasional excited whisper)
all have left the cool of the water
to witness me shiver for the first time.

And they’re smiling.

Clutching to my mother’s summer dress,
I am overtaken by a sudden
wariness of my new surroundings.
Tears begin to form behind my
ignorant eyes,
drenching my ever-moistened eye lashes
and streaking my cheeks
with a
Rose-
red embarrassment.

Feeling the shake of reluctance in my mother's arms
I find myself pushed toward a new face.

I notice his swimming clothes.

Faded black
from his constant immersion
in the salty,
and the drying warmth of the beach’s
direct sunlight,
they hang loosely around
his weathered but chisled
swimmer's frame.

He gathers me in,
holds me as his own,
and speaks to my embarrassment
in a low whisper.

One that no one but he and I can hear.
The kind of whisper that makes you feel guilty for not listening more.

“I swim Here all the time.
You’re going to love It.”

Leading me down to the water’s edge,
His grip is firm.

The current doesn’t have a chance against him.
Waiting to drown,
waiting to be taken into the
depths
of the abyss,
I, unable to control myself,
find a way,
in this safest of places,
to let my ignorance outweigh his
experience and ability
Cupping his right hand,
he dips it shallowly
and brings up a palm full
of quickly fleeting water.
He smiles softly
and runs his steady hand over my head.

Still sobbing,
I feel the ocean’s saline as it sprints,
like a friend with Good News,
down my forehead,
meeting with my tears
on a pale,
fleshy dance floor.

As husband and bride,
They dance.

The waltz marks completion.
......


Looking snazzy…
My brand new engagement ring
shines with a luster
that echoes its price.



Engaged.
With no knowledge of love.


So there you have it. Let me know what you think.

.epoHoNevahllitsew
Good Providence

For Myself

Here's the new poem. Think of this as a sequel for the last one. This poem also has a second part which I have the concept for drawn out but I haven't inked but a few of the first lines yet. Anyway, here it is.

Granted For Taken

Thirsty whores.

With bodies free
from the briuses of stones.

Dressed in white.
With veils
that mask empty eyes,
obtuse noses,
and snarling,
cherry-red lipstick smeared,
lips,
with tongues bent around the sharpest of lies.

Bleeding through the grin of crooked teeth.

Blood-stained gowns.

The result of unsuccessful attempts at
dry
cleaning
and nervous hands;
Pushing down the tide of guilt,
Scraping clean the palms
that placed knives
into the new homes and warmth
of innocent chest cavities.

Scraping...

Acting as if they had never bathed.

As if they had never been bathed.

Born again
strangers
to bath tubs and bakeries;
filled with a self consciousness
which fuels a hostile
bulemia.

(They all think you're fat.)

Losing pounds and gaining weight...

The results are taste buds
well acquainted with the flavor
of stomach acid
and unfamiliar with water's texture.

Sour,
tearing away at the esophogus
with each fruitful heave,
half-digested grape juice and crackers
exit through the mouths they entered
spurned on by gluttonous hands
which now profane
the blood of a promise
with two fingers down
infected throats
that have professed guilt,
which have sung,
"Once was blind,
now I see."

See
the timing with which
they step.
A beat disguised by the
Christmas Gift
of new shoes.

They put them on every
Sunday morning.

But through the week,
they wear bare feet,
collecting the dirt
that lies between the fibers of carpet
covering the bedroom floors of their many lovers.

The only layer they never remove.

Bearers of an old disease,
passed on for generations,
they constantly ingest a drug
to which they were given a perscription
with unlimited refills.

These pills they swallow
are stored in a bottle
with a sticker bearing instructions:

TAKE (WITH WATER)
ONLY WHEN NEEDED

and a warning:

CONSISTENT USE
MIGHT CAUSE ADDICTION

With this in mind
they surround themselves with bacteria
and,
with the aid of cheap wine,
turn what was meant to be a medication,
into an Immunity Cocktail.

Strengthening sickness with the antidote...

Strung out,
rising from the bloody pools
that have consumed their bathroom floors,
they stand
(somehow)
to meet their reflections in
drug cabinets.

Doing their best
to rub out mascara streeks
from moistened cheeks,
the make-up is removed.

An ugly face remains.

A life that can no longer be
painted by
nail polish and hairbrushes
is revealed.

There is nothing left.

Falling
to recieve their deserved destiny,
their bodies never touch
the cold tiles of the floor.

Instead,
unmarked arms wrap around their torsos,
lifting them so they might carry on.

The Husband
gently strokes his wife's unclean hair
and kisses her softly on her cheek.
(as she had done when walking out the door.)

He says:

"I know where you've been.
You've been running again.
Let's get you cleaned up,
put your shoes on,
(we'll double knot them this time)
and go out for dinner.
I bought you a beautiful white dress.
It's similar to the one you used to have.
Do you remember?"


.epoHenOevahllitsew
Good Providence

The Rest

OK OK! So I decided to change this up again and combine the 3rd and 4th installments into one. Here's the rest of the poem everyone.

Stained Glass Procession Parts 3 and 4


Dutiful support aside...
(filled with loads of obligation)

Opening day had arrived.
And butterflies took on a whole new role.

The stars,
In their respective dressing rooms
Eagerly awaited the absence of the curtain.
The supporting cast,
meanwhile,
adorned their costumes of conflicting color schemes
in the tradition of formality,

(Sea foam dresses and "I mean business black suits)

while the audience was ushered into their
respected sections of fanfare.

The air was filled
with a happiness and festivity
that only results in nail-biting and fast pacing.

And the flowers that stuffed the corners of the stage
made the emotion tangible through fragrance.

A scent that stung the eyes and flooded the cheeks.

Finally,it was time for an entrance.

Instead of red,
a less pessimistic white was chosen
for the carpet's color,
and was spread by children
with souls of the same shade.

And the house music went up.

Supporting cast in place,
the stars found their way to center stage.

Graceful recitation followed.

An eloquence not of their own
danced off the tips of their tongues
with a sincerity and meanifulness
from the tissue paper pages
of the volumes of thier own design.

Eardrums were pierced,
hearts were reached,
names were changed,
all through the processed ritual
of a new covenant authored in crimson ink.

But most of all...

It was finally realizedthat successful careers in the game of theater
are not made,
nor do they find their foundations in,
the premise of lengthy monologues
and the process of faking tears
all to the temporary purpose
of satisfying an audience.
(Is everyone watching?)

Rather,
happy actors find their smile
in the absence of pretending.
Their love for the stage is a direct result of recognizing
the mood of inspiration.

(Deja Vous is a tool that can't be taught.)

Happy actors are the ones who never act at all who,
can say
"I do."
without memory's nervous stall,
falling short of grace and causing heavy breathing.

Acting should only cause anticipation,
never
"edge of your seat"
participation,
in which the ending
now could go either way,
giving the actors the weight of directing the play.

WE WERE NEVER MEANT TO LOVE THIS WAY.


So there you all have it. Can't wait to hear what you think. Just wait till you see the new one.

Good Providence

Stained Glass Procession Part 2

Ok so I'm gonna speed the whole increments thing up a bit. Mainly cause I've got another poem I wanna put up here after this. By the way if you're digging this, you're gonna love the next one. But don't let that distract you from this! Continue to read thoughtfully! So without further adieu. here's part 2.


Stained Glass Procession Part 2

...

They call it "training."

Progression towards the objective...
of finally getting it right.
Staging fake attempts of what it might be like.
So we're prepared for the worst going wrong,
'Cause it's the human mindset that reasons:
We're automatically prepared for the best going right.

While we're all scared to death of being happy.

(I'm glad she makes you happy.)


When practice had finished,
a long table was garnished
with bread and wine
and the other "necessities",
to celebrate the feeling of warm feet.
Collisions of crystal
broke the air,
and the ring the glass produced
was accepted
as dedication to the stars.

Stories were told
and made everyone "remember when..."
as well as
where and why.

And they all laughed.

But knew they could never
work like this.
Read from this script.
Act
like knowing that this role would be their last
made them happy.
They hadn't found the right eyes to stare into.

Not with the color of hazel
or blue
(and definately not brown)
but the color of inspiration.
The color that makes you want to stare at it through
transparent white.

(The talk of pupils always means tangents.)



You know the drill....

Good Providence

Stained Glass Procession Part 1

Yay.Finally we return to the original purpose of this site: ART. Excuse the football hype, but I can't help being excited for the Tide. So here's the poem that seemed like its existence was merely a lie I formulated to keep you people reading. SORRY. Anyway, like I said, it's long, and you probably won't read it all unless I do it in installments, so here's the first of I think four. One a week for four weeks. Enjoy.


Stained Glass Procession

So the script had finally been written,
(but it would be years until)
the story would take place.

Rehearsed,
(but camera shy)
the actors were through with playing roles,
finished with the salary of the studio life,
and ready to leave Beverly Hills.

(LOS ANGELES IS DYING OF THIRST)

The script of a lifetime

had fallen

into their laps.

The reading came easy.
Familiar were the pages' corners.
(Fingertips used to papercuts...)
Future paragraphs
became predictable partners in crime.

(Loaded guns will go unused
'cause here we fight with words.)

But memorization,
well,
that's always been another story.
(We're best friends with the author.)

And some how,
some miraculous way,
everything would depend on how well
they could recite a message they could never understand.

Plus this time it would be different.
This time the terror and the tension of a theater
and its audience
would replace the safety and countless takes of the studio
and its cameras.


But enough with prologues.....


Rehearsals began in a fashion that was nothing short of processed.
Walk like this.
Talk when needed.
And most importantly,
Always listen.
'Cause most actors simply recite what they've learned.
But every bit of this
is a game of comprehension and response.
The better players,
to expel their selfish conversation,
talk to themselves,
and at times,they pray.

(This could all fall apart.)

So all they're left with is simply
"I'm sorry, how can I help?"
and never
"This one time I..."

The script doesn't call fot reflection,
only facing the right direction.
And that'll never be back or down.
Always forward and up....


So there's part one.
Let me know what you think and be sure to come back every Friday for the new installment. Ok. Go ahead. Comment your hearts out.
Love you guys.

Good Providence.

The Five Most Wonderful Months of My Life

Happy 5 MONTHS BABY!!!!

I LOVE YOU!!!!!!



"Don't Slow Down" by Copeland...of course...

With a heart so pure
You could fall so quickly

But don't you dare slow down for me

Were it not for hearts like mine
Calloused thickly
You could fall so easily
(Don't you dare slow down for me)

You could take everything I have
Just don't leave my side now, don't leave my side
You could take everything I have
Just don't leave my side now, don't leave my side

Cause your words hit like a train and I can't ignore it
This moment could be our last
You fall in love and I'm running after
You move way too fast

But don't slow down
And don't let go

Hold me close now, lest I fall

They say
I don't know how to love the right way
But you make me feel, you make me feel
like I do

You could take everything I have
Just don't leave my side now, don't leave my side
You could take everything I have
Just don't leave my side now, don't leave my side

Cause your words hit like a train and I can't ignore it
This moment could be our last
You fall in love and I'm running after
You move way too fast

Cause your words hit like a train and I can't ignore it
(Don't slow down)
This moment could be our last
(Don't slow down)
You fall in love and I'm running after
(Don't slow down)
You move way too fast

Don't slow down
Don't slow down

Cause your words hit like a train and I can't ignore it
This moment could be our last
You fall in love and I'm running after
You move way too fast

Cause your words hit like a train and I can't ignore it
(Don't slow down)
This moment could be our last
(Don't slow down)
You fall in love and I'm running after
(Don't slow down)
You move way too fast

Don't slow down
Don't slow down


You are the sole source of my smile...My hope...

MWAH!!!

This Is Just Starting To Get Waaaaayyyyy Too Fun

So here's the latest SI cover. Beautiful huh? I don't know 'bout you other Bama fans, but all this attention is starting to get scary...

Answers

This "little" article was in the Crimson White today…hilarious…

"The littlest dynasty"

Eight months.
That's exactly how long the "Auburn dynasty" lasted. After three straight years of beating Alabama and building a pro­gram worthy of being declared "The People's National Champions," the Auburn .Tigers are right back where they started: playing second fiddle to the Crimson Tide.
How is it possible to lose such an enormous amount of national respect and clout in such a short period of time? If anyone knows how to do it, it's Auburn.
In 1957, Auburn won its first (and only) national title. The Tigers were on top of the foot­ball world in a time when the sport was becoming America's new national pastime.
So did Auburn capitalize on this opportunity and turn into the next big thing in Southern football? Not exactly. It would be 26 years before Auburn would even win its conference again.
Let's check out the next ban­ner in the Auburn hall of fame: the 1993 season. Terry Bowden led the Tigers in his first year as head coach to a perfect 11-0 record and was triumphantly carried off the field after beat­ing Alabama for the first time ever at Jordan-Hare Stadium.
Auburn's time had finally come. Except for one thing: The Tigers were on probation and had no chance to com­pete for a conference or national title.
And of course, we all know about 2004, Cadillac "The School That I Had Chose" Williams and the last-second touchdown by Spencer Pennington that might have kept the Tigers out of the national championship game.
So how do these three instances, the three greatest moments in Auburn football history, explain how far the Tigers have fallen in just one summer?
In Terry Bowden's words, it's all about "Attitude." There are programs that know how to act when they're on top — places like Notre Dame, Michigan, USC and, not so long ago, Alabama.
Auburn is not one of those schools. Whenever the Tigers have been given a chance at success, an opportunity to finally eclipse the mighty Tide in national prominence and respect, the results are always the same: They, inevitably, blow it.
Alabama has been down and out for half a decade. The Tide has been forced to deal with an embarrassing 2000 season, devastating NCAA sanctions, a gutless betrayal by a head coach, a trashy scandal by his replacement and, finally, the utter humilia­tion of losing for three straight years to Auburn.
Auburn had the crown of Dixie handed to it on a silver platter coming into the 2005 season.
Three games in, it appears that Auburn has missed the chance for coronation once again.
The Tide outranks Auburn in both major polls and is two weeks away from what is being hyped as one of the biggest games of the year against Florida.
Meanwhile, Auburn's name won't be uttered again until the middle of October when the team plays its next real opponent (sorry Tigers, Western Kentucky High School for the Blind probably won't attract the ESPN GameDay crew).
Such is life in the Loveliest Village on the Plains, where fans chant, "We're No. 2," where it's tough to be seen in the shadow of Alabama and where losing is just a way of life.
Matt Scalici is a senior sports reporter for The Crimson White.

Good Providence and Roll Tide

So Much For Conversational Pieces

Well, you try to educate people give em a really cool text that you were lucky to find that pertains greatly to this site and what do they do? Nothing.

It's okay. Socrates can be long winded.

You don't think I'm long winded, do you?

Poem soon hopefully.

We're looking at a length like Epitome of a Constant State of Condusion or Internal Bleeding so hopefully the wait will be worth it...

Hopefully...

Oh yeah.

Just in case you wondered.

College life is great. It's not so scary as much as it is awesome. I'm enjoying my classes and have absolutely no free time. But free time is set aside for laundry rooms and Bryant Denny Stadium.

ROLL TIDE ROLL!

Good Providence

P.S. I got pictures I wanna put up...later though.

Pens Down

Discussed this passage in Western Civ. Today. It’s very interesting…

From Plato’s The Apology contained in The Last Days of Socrates.

What’s going on: Socrates has been summoned to the judicial courts in Athens on the charge of heresy and corrupting the youth of the city. He claims that his teaching is only his assisting the oracle of Delphi in proving that he is the wisest of all Athenians. This isn’t as prideful or arrogant as it sounds. Upon hearing what the oracle said about him, Socrates disagrees and begins to search for those that have to be wiser than he. But, he finds that the oracle is correct. There is no one wiser that he can find. But, he begins to think, maybe he is wiser because he will admit that he does not know everything and the others pretend to. So now it has become an experiment for him.  The poets are his second group for his experiment…


“I want you to think of my adventures as a cycle of labours undertaken to establish the truth of the oracle once for all. After I had finished with the politicians I turned to the poets, dramatic, lyric, and all the rest, in the belief that here I should expose myself as a comparative ignoramus. I used to pick up what I thought were some of their most polished works and questioned them closely about the meaning of what they had written, in the hope of incidentally enlarging my own  knowledge. Well, gentlemen, I hesitate to tell you the truth, but it must be told. It is hardly an exaggeration to say that any of the bystanders could have explained those poems better than their actual authors. So I soon made up my mind about poets too: I decided that it was not wisdom that enabled them to write their poetry, but a kind of instinct or inspiration, such as you find in seers and prophets who deliver all their sublime messages without knowing in the least what they mean. It seemed clear to me that the poets were in much the same case; and I also observed that the very fact that they were poets made them think that they had a perfect understanding of all other subjects, of which they were totally ignorant. …”

See? Interesting huh? All you fellow poets out there think about this and gimmie some feedback…


                                                                                                                                          
…………………Good Providence

College is Phun pt. 1

In response to the question of: “It is ten years from now. You are on trial for murder and the judge asks you why you did it. Why did you?” for an application for the Mallet Honors Society at UA I responded:

Stenographer's Report: 12/15/04

"Mr. Grayson, you are about to be sentenced for the murder of Kenneth Friar. We've seen and heard testimony from your family and friends as well as those belonging to the victim. Quite frankly we all know you offed him. So stop trying to hide it. The only thing that actually is on everyone that is present's mind is, "Why?" . Why did you kill this innocent man Mr. Grayson? Why in the quiet of night on October 31, did you take a sledgehammer and brutally hit Mr. Friar's brand new 2005 Lexus and proceed to tickle him until he ceased to breathe from the exhaustion of laughing so hard that his sides literally burst? Why did you, in cold blood, take life from another human being?"

"First off, were you there? No. You weren't. So basically you don't even know what you're talking about, you self-righteous chess piece of this so called 'blind' justice system that the President and all of his cronies hide behind... Anyway, so you all really want to know why I did it? By the way, I DID DO IT. I'd do it again. HE MADE ME SO MAD... none of you understand how, how angry. He just, he shouldn't have done what he did you know? It was one of those few times in history where someone actually crossed a line that was deep in the sand...that he knew was there, one of those times that you know you have to do something about the piece of [expletive] standing in front of you people actually call a human being and wipe it off the face of the planet so that no one else has to deal with what you just dealt with. I felt very much like Mel Gibson did in that movie The Patriot when he killed that British guy at the end of the movie. Anyway, he had no right to insult me like that. Did he understand how much I had prepared for this? How long I had worked and saved and how all of that finally added up to what was supposed to be the most glorious night of my life? I never get any attention! NEVER! No one ever talks to me around the office. Sure I'm quiet, but that's no excuse for the way they all look at me every day. Like, like I'm something different from them, like I'm not made from the same hate, the same, black that they are. Like I said before no one understands what's going on here. No one. But at the party that night, the party that I had worked so hard to make a good impression at, to gain a little positive attention, a rebirth, if you will, of myself in the eyes of my associates,...he ruined it. How dare him to be the final vote on the costume contest! I was one vote away! ONE VOTE!!! I was one vote away from the glory of eternally having my name written on the annual company Halloween Costume Contest plaque. I MEAN COME ON! How is a flawless recreation of the Gettysburg Address "not a very original costume."? I wasn't someONE. I was a (expletive) event in history. I was a lot of people...at the same (expletive) time. BUT NO. Instead he picks that whore across from his desk that he can't take his eyes off of. She didn't need this! I did! And...

"That is quite enough Mr. Grayson. That is quite enough. Not only has your story completely and utterly ruined your case, and found you out to be a very sad and angry man, with many, many, problems to work out,...

it has also tugged at the strings of my heart in a way that I have never felt. You're right, that harlot didn't need that plaque. You did. And I'm not going to put you in jail for the want of love. The last time I checked wanting to be loved and appreciated wasn't against the law. I..."

(Stupid face lawyer interjects:)

"But your honor, he also killed someone and that is..."

"Shut up stupid. I'll be the judge of what is and isn't murder here. Mr. Grayson simply tickled Mr. Friar. And people tickle other people all the time. How was he to know that this would kill Mr. Friar?"

(Again, Stupid Face Lawyer:)

"But your honor he...wait, why do you keep saying he tickled him? Mr. Friar was found with stab wounds in his forehead and abdomen...what are you...."

"Do you have pictures of this?"

"Well yes, they're..."

"Then you don't have a case. No pictures no case."

"But I just said that I do..."

"Mr. Grayson, as I was saying, you make me proud to be a part of this justice system. It takes a lot of guts, moxy even, to admit that you have maliciously killed someone, especially in the high pressure situation that a court room can create. The only experience I have with that is that one time I got really drunk and stripped naked and ran into the middle of Sleepless in Seattle when it was in theaters and my friends, who followed me in wanted me to give a speech. Needless to say, it wasn't the most eloquent or prestigious of rhetorical exercises, but instead of throwing me out, the theater employees gave me a free popcorn and coke because they thought it was so freakin ballsy. But that's beside the point. I like you and I like your moxy. So I'm gonna give you your free popcorn and coke and let you off the hook. You know, I think you are the first person I think that I have actually helped since I got this job? Ha. Kids. Why are we prolonging this? You're free to go Mr. Grayson. Go be loved. Case dismissed!"

[gavel slam...loud...reasonably anyway]

[SFL(Stupid Face Lawyer)]

"This is ridiculous! This is an outrage! This is...really dumb! Have you lost your mind your honor? You're letting him go free?!! Because his psychological issues remind you of your tale of drunken stupidness? You don't have any grounds. You don't..."

"And you don't have a job any more. You're fired."

[SFL]

"What? I'm pretty sure you can't make that decision. I have my own practice. Plus, I have other people that I answer..."

"Well I bet your daddy can..."

[SFL]

"Wh...that..."

"What's that loser? What are you trying to say? You gonna cry? You gonna cry like a little baby?"

[SFL]

"You...popcorn...it's...I'm... leaving."

(singing)
"Who's the man? I da man! Who's the man? I da man! Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh! TO THE LEFT TO THE LEFT TO THE RIGHT TO THE...."

Report suspended due to lack of necessity.
But trust me, what happened after that was pretty pathetic.

Four Months Ago Today I Stopped Listening to A Broken Heart

Hey everyone.

So it's been four months huh baby?

I promise I remembered.

See?

"Overjoyed"

I see frustration upon your face
Tired eyes
Won't you just rest with me
I'll make you complete again

I saw the beauty in your soul
The way you are
Cant you just see the moon
smiling at you tonight?

And what will define you?

I'm overjoyed
yeah
Overjoyed to be with you
Overcame doubts
Overcame and fell for you

I see two roads ahead of you
One is wide,
the other is narrow and long
Which is the one you'll choose?

Together we're walking side by side
I will fall
and you will rescue me
Through all my darkest times

And what will define you?

Cause I want to know you
I want to give you all I can

I want to know you
I want to someday understand

And its all for you
Yeah, who you going to be, who you going to be?

Always there
through the rough times

And you're always there when no one else cares,
No one else cares

Always there

Four Months and we're still trying hard. I love you and am very proud of you Brianna. Couldn't have moved to T-Town without you beside me. See you tomorrow.

Mwah.

It's Not That He's Too Good For You, It's Just That He's In College Now

Hey everyone.

Long time no read huh?

Anyway here's something you haven't seen before.

I hope.

Now That I've Ripped Out The First Page of a Clean Slate...

So I'm down again.
Back to this.
(and I fear you're all I have left)

TRUSTY BATTLE

My ball-pointed dagger in hand,
I'm a hip assassin with my paper cloak.
I swear to God I'll blend in with the cliche,
Then I'll hack out the tongues of I what I fear
While you look the other way,
Eye for an eye, truth for a truth.

(I thought you knew what I meant when I said...)

The virus is loneliness.
This page is the medicine.
And I'm doing nasty little numbers on isolation.

I'll stop my own heart before an empty room bleeds me out.

But candor aint coming as cheap as it used to.
And they sure don't make hearts out of the stuff that they used to.
(Was it one part bubble gum or two?...)

So it's safe to say that you're looking at this towns new Pharisee.

Aint I the law
with my robes purple and gold?
Praying to God
Digging my hole.

The shock when they'll see what's up under my mask
is as sharp as my knife.

AND I PLANNED IT LIKE THAT...

And while my blade feels fearful throats tremble and shake,
the vibration meets its twin.

My dead grip fueled by frightened eyes,
anchored by cold feet...

The lever balances.

Good Providence

So I Told Myself, "For The Next 79 Miles, I'm Going To Listen To Songs That Make Me Sad."

Today was the day.

Around 6:30 p.m. today, I looked at my room in a way that I have never looked at it before...

As something that wasn't really "mine" anymore.

Now, it was merely something that I would visit every 3 weeks to a month. A less than frequent aquaintance that I would only make if I felt like the drive or if class schedules and this new "college life" would permit me to take the time to see. It wasn't completely bare. But it felt raped.

I've never so reluctantly closed a door in all my life.
(Metaphorically and non-metaphorically.)

The house looked different as I backed out of the yard. I guess the sight of it seemed blurrier or something. Like it was passing by really quickly. Like, as hard as I tried, I couldn't focus my eyes on it's imaginary movement or make it just stop and stand still for a minute in it's familliar place on the property. And this wasn't the worst of it.

I officially got nervous, friday night. Started freaking out about all the stuff that would happen within the next 48 hours or so. You know, reaching maturity and all. Finally getting to that point in your life where you are "fully capable" of fending for yourself. That point that you don't need security in the form of a familiar bed or lightswitch to get by in the world. Survive in the world. Anyway long story short, I didn't let this scare me til I absolutely had to. Now I'm terrified.But anxious at the same time to see if I'm ready...I so don't want to be ready.

Ten minutes later I'm on 231 heading north to Tuscaloosa. Taking Back Sunday is blaring in my car. I'm hoping to get lost in this album. I do. But find myself in the middle of a bunch of, then and at the time, frightening memories.

I'm screaming the words now at the top of my lungs. Identifying with almost every word, or remembering what it was like to identify with some. Nonetheless, it's doing the job of occupying my mind...
"This is what living like this does,
This is what living like this does,
This is what living like this does,
This is what living like this does,
This is what living like this Does."

The final TBS song ends (Head Club if you were wondering) and I realize I'm in Troy. Following this will be Motion City Soundtrack and Brand New's Your Favorite Weapon. MCS makes me smile, but not the way that the first measures of Brand New's The Shower Scene does. That's always been hard to describe.The way that their music makes me feel. It just makes me feel like I'm gonna make it.

The miles begin to just kind of start running into each other and I'm actually forgetting how to read the gauge that tells you how much gas is in your vehicle. I can see it's not at the bottom of anything and that's reassuring...but that's how guessing with familiars goes.

I'm not driving how I normally do. I feel really out of place and like I'm seeing in tunnel vision. (My possessions are surrounding me.) The driver of this new Lexus is growing tired of my indecisiveness and decides to switch lanes so he can hurry off to continue the fast track he's gotten used to. But that wasn't fair anyway. I just found out that I have to start building my own track. I'm just glad he's out from behind me. Jerk had his brights on.

Seventy X 7 comes on and I remember that Wedensday before Junior Prom.(Do you remember Nick?) Sitting outside of Robby's house in the Marquis with the stereo pounding...
"I can't
let you.
let me down again.
I can't
let you.
let me down again."

Shortly thereafter Soco Ameretto Lime starts up. And now I forget where I am.
"Just jealous cause we're young and in love. You're just jealous..."

Then,
Pizza Hut Pizza tastes gOOd.

Happy trails. Memories all over them.

If anything this day has made me want to do anything I can to stay a child and not a man. Funny thing is, I don't evern know the severity of that statement, let alone what the heck it means. I just know that Tuscaloosa might as well be across the country from Dale County Rd. 63.

We enter town. Check in at the hotel. Ughh. Temporary sleep depots. I walk in and feel the fakeness of an imposter home decor. Sleep won't come easy here.

Writing is helping. It always does. Makes me feel less lonely that you all are reading at least some of this. I miss you all by the way.

I'll move my things into 119b Riverside West tomorrow. Thats gonna be my new home. I'm eventually going to put my P.O. Box address on here so you all can send me stuff. Ha. I don't thing you understand how happy it would make me to get mail from you...do you? pLeAse Do noT lIe.

7:30 is coming early.

But doesn't it always?

Doesn't change in general always come early?

"It's never been harder to fall,
There's nothing to grab
and there's all
I want to hold on to.
Just another sweep...
and it'll be fine.
But this carpet's got hills

and I can't see this helping at all."- The Early November

Whatever.

Bring it on life.

God help me.

Sunday, Lazy Sunday

Went to church today...came home...listened to my Zen Micro on shuffle...fell asleep...woke up...went to B's...came home...listened to more music...here's today's mix:

1.Empty Space-Lifehouse
2.To the End- My Chemical Romance
3.Stay Away-Nirvana
4.A Sick Taste-Jimmy Eat World
5.She Takes You-The Chemistry
6.The Last Song-Foo Fighters
7.The Panties- Mos Def
8.Cold-Matchbox Twenty
9.The World You Love- Jimmy Eat World
10.Anything Else But the Truth-The Honorary Title
11.Place For My Head-Linkin Park
12.There's No Solution-Sum 41
13.Choose the One Who Loves You More-Copeland
14.Wake Up Call-Hawthorne Heights
15.Mary Without Sound-Motion City Soundtrack
16.Soul-Matchbox Twenty
17.The Note From Which a Chord Is Built-Emery
18.Jones-The Chemistry
19.Inside Out-Yellowcard
20.This Is Your Life-Switchfoot
21.Stardust-Harry Connick Jr.
22.The Sharp Hint of New Tears-Dashboard Confessional
23.Posters-Jack Johnson
24.Cling and Clatter-Lifehouse
25.Don't Call It a Comeback-Motion City Soundtrack
26.Days Go By-Lifehouse
27.Cure For the Itch-Linkin Park
28.Float On-Modest Mouse
29.If Thou Hast Drawn-Christ Community College
30.End Over End-Foo Fighters
31.Here's Your Letter-blink182
32.Halcyon Daze-Hidden In Plain View
33.Breakaway-Kelly Clarkson
34.Seven Years-Norah Jones
35.Nobody Puts Baby In the Corner-Fall Out Boy
36.Only One-Lifehouse
37.21 and Invincible-Something Corporate
38.Behind These Hazel Eyes-Kelly Clarkson
39.So I Finally Decided To Give Myself a Reason-I Can Make A Mess Like Nobody's Business
40.You Might Die Trying-Dave Matthews Band
41.World Upon Your Shoulders-Silverchair
42.Smashed Into Pieces-Silverstein
43.The Greatest View-Silverchair
44.Bleed For You-Hidden In Plain View
45.In Memory-Hidden In Plain View
46.On the Mend-Foo Fighters
47.Hold Nothing Back-Copeland
48.Hurricane-Something Corporate
49.The Church-Derek Webb
50.Great Romances of the 20th Century-Taking Back Sunday
51.Moshi Moshi-Brand New
52.Leave It At That-Don't Die Cindy
53.Unclothed and Honest-Don't Die Cindy
54.How Found You Could Be-Don't Die Cindy

I know what you're thinking.So what?So maybe 50-54 weren't that random...maybe I just wanted to hear those to end the day with...sheesh.

Oh yeah...all complaints about song number 7 please direct to Mos Def and not me. I can't contol what sounds awesome.

Ah Forget It

If I woulda known this stupid napkin thing was gonna cause all this trouble I would have never done it.

You people spoil everything.




Cept for you baby...mwah.

Ever Get Awesome Songs Stuck In Your Head?

I did...

So I got it out...on a napkin.

See if you can guess which song it is.

I'll give you props in your OWN POST ALL ABOUT YOU to the first comment who guesses the song's correct title and group name.






haha. loook at those pears. they're so emo...
GO!!!

Brand New Rocks My Socks And I'm About To Hyperventillate Waiing For Their New Record

Hey everyone.

This is one of my favorite Brand New songs.

It reads more like a poem...so read it like one.

"Play Crack The Sky"
We sent out the S.O.S. call.
It was a quarter past four, in the morning
When the storm broke our second anchor line.

Four months at sea.
Four months of calm seas only
To be pounded in the shallows off the tip of Montauk Point.

They call them rogues.
They travel fast and alone.
One hundred foot faces of God's good ocean gone wrong.

What they call love is a risk,
Cause you will always get hit
Out of nowhere by some wave

And end up on your own.

The hole in the hull defied the crew’s attempts,
To bail us out.

And flooded the engines and radio,
And half buried bow.

Your tongue is a rudder.
It steers the whole ship.
Sends your words past your lips
Or keeps them safe behind your teeth.
But the wrong words will strand you.
Come off course while you sleep.
Sweep your boat out to sea
Or dashed to bits on the reef.

The vessel groans
The ocean pressures its frame.
To the port I see the lighthouse
Through the sleet and the rain.
And I wish for one more day to give my Love
and repay debts.

But the morning finds our bodies washed up thirty miles west.

They say that the captain stays fast with the ship,
Through still and storm,
But this ain't the Dakota,
And the water is cold,

We won't have to fight for long.
(This is the end.)

This story's old but it goes on and on until we disappear,
(This is the calm.)

Calm me and let me taste the salt you breathed while you were underneath,
(We are the mountains.)

I am the one who haunts your dreams of mountains sunk below the sea,
(After the storm.)
I spoke the words but never gave a thought of what they all could mean,
(Rest in the sea.)

I know that this is what you want,
A funeral keeps both of us apart.
(Washed up on the beach.)

You know that you are not alone
I need you like water in my lungs.
(This is the end.)

See? Couldn't find a chorus or a verse huh? Amazing...I know.
Tell me what you think and I'll appreciate you alot.

Good Providence