March 15th, 2002


(no subject)

I'm pretty out of it this morning. For about the first half hour I was up you could have asked me to do just about anything and I'd have been ready to go. Very up and peppy and feeling fully awake. And then that ebbed away ::grin::

I've got De La Soul songs stuck in my head. Just over and over and over.
And that's just fine with me.

I think I'm going to make soda bread today. Maybe. I feel like I should. ::shrug::
I need to run to the store and pick up those vitamins I wanted before they go off sale but it's feeling pretty hard to just move.

But I will persevere, dammit.

The world is far too Britney and Christina and Mall Metal Watered Down Crap for my taste. It disturbs me still, as always, that hardcore (watered down and pansified) became popular.
What the hell happened to korn?When did they turn into this puddle of whimpy crap?
What happened to the J. Davis who screamed "you'll suck my dick and fucking like it"?
ANd they were never that damned hard to begin with. But at least they didn't sound so much like something made from a lot of synthesizers and puppet players.
  • Current Mood
    groggy groggy

(no subject)

My father yesterday proved to me that just his presence in the house changes me. I was in a fine mood. Within 5 minutes of him stepping foot in the house, I was tense, uncommunicative, and snappish. Just thinking about it makes my shoulders raise up.
It's not as if this is news.
Not at all.

I'm well aware of the fact that he makes me tense. That's 100% learned behavior.
Father home = Bad shit is about to happen= be on guard.

My wisdom tooth is kind of killing me. I've noticed that all these people have recently added me to their friends lists and I have to wonder if it isn't because of my fucking user icon. It probably is. What a *lousy* reason.

I'm a little blank today. But I went to bed with this enormous smile on my face last night.
Because Chad does that to me.
  • Current Mood
    loved loved

(no subject)

My father is watching semi-soft core porn while my mom reads the paper and pretends not to notice. I don't know if I want to guzzle down coffee and some ephedra or if I want to take a flexerall and a vicodin.
I just feel like I want to be altered.
And since my altering agent of choice is unavailable, I have to go with what I've got.
I'm playing freecell over and over. A month ago I didn't even understand how the game was played. For years it baffled me. I opened it up on a whim a month ago and tada... I'm addicted.
I haven't started reading the Broom of the System yet. As soon as I finish up my current book I will. Common Phrases is the current one. Meanings and origins of all those weird little things we say. "raining cats and dogs" , "take a back seat", "go through fire and water"...
I'm an etymology freak. Apparently it's expanded to whole phrases.
I'm feeling very foggy. Like there is cotton wool in my brain and my thoughts, being water based, are soaking into some bits and concentrating there.. but then not getting to other bits at all.
I just said "cotton wool." And yet, I'm not british.
This foggy feeling happens quite a bit. Chad has said it's just time for me to accept that I've got ADD and be done with it. Sometimes I think I probably do (at least, I know that I do enough to get drugs for it.. which doesn't mean much, actually) and other times I think that I probably just think I do because it seems the easiest answer to a lifelong problem with living too much or not enough inside my own head.
I'm not sure which it is.
I'm not sure that it matters.

The fogginess makes me want speedies. So now my 'maybe' to coffee is a full on craving.
I usually don't sleep before 2 or 3 am anyway... so maybe it's okay?
that's what I'll tell myself.

Still have De La stuck in my head. "hey love"
"go to the club around the way... see my Hey DJ ... make him play 'hey love'..."
  • Current Mood
    lethargic lethargic

Pease Porridge


We bring, we bring, we bring, we bring the peace of course
But pack a nine inside, inside my De La drawers
A picture, picture, picture, picture painted pink
Could turn to red, to red, to red in blooded quick
But in a single file my Native Tongue is calm
I rather, rather pass a brother palm to palm
I kick, I kick, I kick a verse of unity
And shack, and shackle steps to the beat, beat
I click, I click the TV to the Simpsons
And sip the Porridge deep into my system
So mel, so mellow mode is my day mode
Inside the studio or on a road
The Swing, the Swingalow is the now step
It's murder if you bet 'cause you're life's jep
To praise, to praise the Soul is on a down drag
It's false, because I'll spray you with the Black Flag


Can't stand, can't stand, can't stand the pop music
Brother, brother, brothers pop a lot of pow
Don't watch, don't watch, don't watch a lot of basketball
Don't und, don't understand the act of being fouled
Hey D, hey D, hey DJ set the record up
It's time, it's time, it's time to tame the annoying pups
Throw on the Touching Fingers serenade
So we can throw our lemonade
In their face and kick their little butts


People wanna get ragged with the reruns
Me not, me not, me not scared to trudge a bit
They can't, they can't, they can't get close to none
I tap, I tap, I tap a dance war skit
The por, the por, the Porridge got crazy cold
We won't, we won't eat until the heads are flown
Take advantage to a cool one's peaceful ways
But when, but when we fly that head all the people say