Sleeping Spiders

I'm in a band again...for now.

March 10th, 2010

I wrote a new song today. The idea came to me as i was sitting in a recording studio while my dad was recording vocals. I thought of the first line and then starting writing away the lyrics into my phone. I got home and copied them to the computer and contiuned writing. Thoughts were coming to me like a flood. It was great. I had the same flood of ideas last night, but after I re-read what I wrote last night, i decided that it wasn't really good. Not even good enough to get ideas for what I wrote today. It's been a while since i've written something i've actually liked.

The idea was to get 4-6 songs together to record an EP in the summer. I'm at 7 now. I'm going to name the release Vas Y Viens. It means Come and Go in french. It seemed to me that the songs I have are based around the idea of life/death and being somewhat of a drifeter. As I was writing the last few lines in the last verse I realized that I had just written the title track. It was completely unintentional. I wanted to use every song I've written after the intial 6 for a split i wanna make with the Humdrums, but after realizing what I have written, I'd be a fool for not adding it to this project.

I hope all goes well with this. I've been battling myself trying to decide if I should do it or not. Half of me feels that it'll be a waste of time and money to make a solo release. I can't sing. Who will actually listen to this? Who will see me when I play shows? But i figured, fuck it, and i'm gonna keep thinking 'fuck it' until it comes time to record. Because once I start, I won't go back.

March 3rd, 2010

and by the time the sun has reached you to kiss you in the morning

I’d’ve already nursed the night before’s sores from the tears dripping off the awning

on my off time. The good souls have died.

I’m already pushing a thousand against their will and have forced them to cry

while the bitter ones rely on water falling from the sky;

it’s not all poison, but we’ll keep that just between you and I.

The Night Before

I sit atop the roof underneath the purple sky

I sit with the wind blowing in my face as i’m watching the pretty sun rise

As i’m chilling, a warm memory slips through my mind

It’s the one where you and me were just chilling and trying to find

a reasonable and convincing reason why all of this exists

The relationship between us and this crazy world of kids

This world of twists, world of rebels, jerks, and pacifists

Magic tricks, world of doughnuts, atheists, and tragic lists

I sigh a sigh of relief because i remembered that you’re still here

And after a sleepless night I still find myself here

Chilling, enjoying the morning and it’s beautiful sounds

But i have to jump off the roof into the pool because it’s the only way to get down

I silently creep into your bedroom and you’re still sleeping

I have a wonderful treat for you and today’s evening

But that’s if we survive another long and stressful day

because i’m still trying to recover from yesterday

I tip-toe out to start the coffee

and I slip slow trying to get the tired off me

I take a glass of water and a shot of listerene

and i brush off my shirt, ok, now, i’m clean

I relax, i look for my keys

I speed fast as i’m looking through my jeans

I find them, im out, i blow a kiss goodbye

And it’s off into the world i’ll see you later back tonight

I’ll see you later, alright? Because I have some things i need to do

But as soon as i’m done i’ll do my best to call you

But for now, i’m high off ambition and expectations

It’s now or never so I better learn to have some patience.

The last few posts were assignments for a class, I got a B. Word. So now i'll continue posting useless shit no one will ever read. And so it goes...

Boy

Be strong. Be a man. Why are you crying? Don't cry, don't let me catch you crying. It's what we're told while growing up. Cut the grass, take out the trash, wash the car. These manly chores are somewhat of an attempt the grow us into this manly man we're supposed to be. Football, basketball, baseball. These sports are supposed to teach us how to be tough, how to find trust in other men, in being strong. This is how you impress women, cologne, hair jel, nice clothes. We're supposed to look nice not too nice to where you come off as gay. That's supposedly a bad thing. Don't be a pussy, you're supposed to hook up with the women. Get her phone number. Call her. The more phone numbers you get and the more women you hook up with, the cooler and manlier you are. Here's the condom you're supposed to use. Now go learn to change the oil, change a tire on the car. Know your way under the hood of the car. Know these things, impress these women so you can have these women. All through school, middle school, high school, and even college, we're pressured into becoming this image. A strong image, image is everything, it will get you women. Don't be gay, that's for sissies, you'll be bullied all your life if you're a sissy, you don't want that. It's silly how our society guides us in this direction. Go excersice, stay in shape, be able to do at least over 25 push-ups. Build that chest, that 6-pack. Don't ever get your ass kicked. And if that does happen, don't let her or anyone else see it. And if you do get your ass kicked and you do walk away with a couple bruises and a black eye, just lie. Lie about it and make it seem that it'd be impossible to win whatever fight you were in. Be a tough guy. No women, no person likes a weak guy. You'll get nowhere in life. Work those triceps, abs, chest, biceps, calves. The guys on television have it, women want them, you want women to want you. Join a frat, it makes you look cool. Be able to consume an absurd amount of alcohol in a very short amount of time. It makes you look cool. It's all image. American boys go through this all over the country. Be tough. Do not look weak. Ever. Don't be weak, nobody likes anyone weak, but more importantly, no women likes anyone week. It's insane the pressure we go through. Our peers push us even more. You don't want to look stupid in front of them, you'll lose this so-called friends. You want as many friends as possible, it makes you look cool. It'll make you look cool in front of the women. Women love popular men. When are we going to stop and think about what these women actually like in men? Do all women even really care about how strong you are? If you're able to change the oil in a car, if you're able to bench press a stupid amount of weight, if you have many friends, if you know everything about football? Does all of this shit really matter? How far will this get me in life, will it take me to where I want to be in life? I think not.

"I'm not trying to create a first impression I can't live up to."
-Sage Francis.

Poets In The Kitchen

I am currently a creative writing major here at Florida State. I grew up writing and playing my own music, so I figured that becoming a creative writing student would be natural and expected from me. One of my main inspirations as a writer is the music I listen to. A lot of my favorite artists, not only make good music, but they have very deep, personal, and inteligent lyrics.
Many of the rappers I listen to are seen as poets because of how unique and deep their lyrics are. One of my favorite rappers is from Providence, RI and he goes by the name Sage Francis. He went to school in Rhode Island and got a degree in journalism. He's won many awards for his spoken work and slam poetry pefromances. A lot of his songs are consisted of phrases with double meanings, and very complex word play. One of my favorite examples from him are in a song called "New Word Order". He does this thing where he'll use the last word in a phrase as the first word. It's hard to explain but it's really interesting and creative. "...search for the best deals underneath the sun, block the barn yard punch the clock, knock it into next week." "...concepts of time sheets of acid rain drop and star rolling a dislocated joint custody of the moments you are holding." Underneath the sun/sun block. Time sheets/sheets of acid, acid rain, rain drop, drop and start rollin rolling a dislocated joint, joint custody. It's probably one of the most impressive things I've heard in rap music. After hearing that song I've tried doing something similar in my own writing, but rather than playing with these phrases, I tried playing with the sounds of many words. For example, "and you would think that after spending years tugging on her heart i'd earn a heart of honor on her no longer talking to my former self for myself to learn, no longer." It's still a work in progess, but the idea definitely comes from Sage Francis.
For me, my poets in the kitchen were the rappers and musicians I listen to. Most of the music I've been listening to I've been into since my freshman year of high school. Other artists are Slug from Minneapolis rap group Atmosphere, Tom Gabel from Gainesville punk band Against Me!, Aesop Rock who is a rapper from Long Island. Most of my ideas stem from these people due to their methods of expressing themselves. They tend to do this in a very poetic and honest way, which is something I appreciate and tend to do in my own writing. I feel that if I had never listened to these artists, I probably would be writing, and if I were writing, my style would be completely different. I thank these people for helping mold me into the person I am today. Another poet that I feel you should give a listen to, is Buddy Wakefield. He's a spoken word poet and his performances really add to effect of his words.