Earlier

Unhappiness really meant something back in the day. Those days are gone. The days of humiliations and heartbreaks are not being delivered to my brain anymore. I even ran out tears. Don't get me wrong, is not like Iam happy. I've been hanging around feeling up, feeling down but today rejection, date trials and love failure are more like a drag to me, like a fucking cold or being broke. It's been really nice,we went for a drink,we went for a walk,we went for a drive on one of many hopeless nights. I just sometimes get this fear that nothing is true. I laughed so much I almost split in two .I had so much fun but nothing's true. I don't get too involved or too emotional. My days are numbered here. May be is apathy but I really don't care. If you really wanted to mess me up, you should have got to me earlier.

K-hole

charming monkey drunken donkey
dragonfly kiss your tail
precious robot built so frail
universe of milk and ember
your hot kiss in mid december
what's god's name i can't remember
through the crack eye lovely weather
tiny spirit in a k-hole
bloated like a soggy cereal
god will come and wash away
our tattoos and all the cocaine
and all of the aborted babies
will turn into little bambies

1992

In those days there was a kind of feeling of pushing out of the front door, into the pale exhaust fume park by broad water pond. Supermarkets after chicken restaurants, after spare pawnshop, everything in my life felt like it was coming to a mysterious close. I could hardly walk to the end of the street without feeling there was no way to go except back. The dates I had that summer count to nothing, my job was a dead end and the rent check was killing me a little more each month. It seemed unlikely that anything could hold much longer. The only question left to ask was what would happen after everything familiar collapsed, but for now the sun was stretched between me and that moment. It was ferociously hot. As I lay in my room I can hear my neighbors discussing the world and opening beers in their gardens. On the other side someone was singing an Arabic prayer through the thin wall. I had no money for the pub so I decided to go for a walk. I found myself wandering aimlessly to the west. I crossed the street and headed into virgin territory, I had never been this way before grabble Dutch houses alternative with square 60s offices and the white pavements angulated with cracks and litter. I walked because there was nothing else for me to do and by the breeze the light began to fade. The avenue led me to the verge of a long greasy A road that rose up in the far distance with symmetrical terraces falling steeply down and up again from a distant railway station. There were 4 benches to my right with those strange bushes that grow in the area. These blossoms are so pale yellow they seem translucent almost spectral and suddenly tired, I sat down. I held my head in my hands, feeling like shit but a sudden breeze escaped from the terraces and for a moment I lost my thoughts and its unexpected glooms. I looked up and I realized I was sitting in a photograph. I remember clearly this photograph was taken by my mother in 1992 outside our front garden, it was slightly underexposed I was still sitting in the bench but the colors and the plains of the road and the horizon had become the photo but I looked hard and I could see the lines of the window ledge in the original photograph were now composed by a tree branch and the silhouetted edge of a grass barge and yes there were pale stars far off to the west that traced out the lines of a toddlers eyes and mouth. When I look back at this there's nothing to grasp, no starting point. I was inside an underexposed photo from 1992 but I was also sitting on a bench.
The feeling of 1992, dizzy, illogical, as if none of the intervening disasters and wrong turns had happened yet. I felt guilty and inconsolably sad. I felt the instinctive tug back to school, the memory of shopping malls, cooking, driving in my mothers car, all gone, gone forever. I just sat there for awhile, I was so tired that I didn't bother trying to work out what was going on. I was happy just to sit in the photo while it was lasted which wasn't long anyway. The light faded, the wind caught the smoke, the stars dimmed under the glare of the streetlamps. I got up and walked away from the spot of little benches and an oncoming of Garish kids. Our bus was rumbling to my rescue down that hill with a great big fire Alexandra palace on its front and I realized I did want to drink after all.
Thank you Alasdair MacLean

Southern Tendencies & Chemicals Dependencies

It's so hard to live in the city. I've been walking for blocks and I wish I don't see her face everywhere. I'm making notes in my head remembering her pale blue eyes. Our love was like a broken bottle. Sharp and dangerous. A glass hidden in the grass it only hurt when I saw the blood,when it was too late.
The night is closing in. Shadows paint the streets and I feel like Im walking on a trampolin. Im sinking in a hole and if I can't get out I will dig some more.
She brings out the scotch in me. I stop to have a drink. My drink is telling me Im not good for her. I let my tears dry on their own. Im tired. My eyes are half shut and heavy. My bruises are turning from yellow to black and blue. I spend too much time disecting every word we said. My judgement is clouded by visions of what if. If I call I will get her cold and mean answering machine. I'm not smiling on the outside. I'm not smiling underneath.
I was young when I left home with her. Memories of all the broken promises just gave me a bad taste in my mouth and it feels like her fingernails just got sharpened on my throat. Most these memories are a white blur image of anger or content. I feel naked and alone now surrounded by strangers taking in all those deafening whispers. I'm sinking like a stone on my sweaty cold glass. I'm wearing a frown like Pierrot the clown. My body is a cage and is holding all these memories. It's such a shame.
I finish my drink and I'm starting to miss all those days in the sun when I used to have fun. Those days didn't last. I made a habit of building a lot of walls with barbed wire to keep away friends from me. Sleeping around the clock made my skin pale. I felt emaciated,famished.
The weight of my lies shattered my glasshouse. I used to think I was the mess she wear with pride everywhere we go but I was wrong. Little by little it took me by surprise. Slowly but steady i felt the vertigo of my downfall. Now Iam wandering alone. Bad thoughts are creeping in. I'm starting to think she's only two towns from me. I heard from a friend she still pretty. The cold night is hitting my face like needles.Awake now, I recognize my delusion. Our love was murder. She was the weapon and I was the trigger. All I see is me but she's everywhere. She is in everything I see. On my way home. On my last drink and probably on my next one. My only mistake was staying in Tennessee a year too long. I keep walking . My backpages are flipping. A series of dreams where everything is broken are now present. There's blood in my eyes. Is not dark yet but is getiing there. I keep walking not talking. Here Iam rotting once again in a cold Southern night with Tennessee tendencies and chemical dependencies.

Strange

Why's everybody actin funny?
Why's everybody look so strange?
Why's everybody look so nasty?
What do I want with all these things?

I went alone down to the drugstore.
I went in back and took a Coke.
I stood in line and ate my Twinkies.
I stood in line, I had to wait

Can't Forget What I Don't Remember

There's always something missing. Now that I've found it,it's gone. Now that I feel it,you don't. Sometimes I wonder when things became so strange? I made it to my bed but stay up all night instead. My eyes are gloss and there's diamonds in my veins. Don't you want to know how this thing will go?
Now that summer is gone I'm not the same. At home there's voices in my head and a phantom everywhere but i can only see you.
I don't worry anymore at least not like I did before because it's all right to see her ghost pass me by. I will settle in my dreams and run to her. She stands stark naked and she beckons me to bed. I only want to know when she'll come back again?
The winter is tunning up and a lot goes on forever. I'll drive by my old address. I'll find her there. We'll ride high,fine and free.

My Horoscope

My horoscope said I've been bad. I made a home in my head but I forgot where I live. I tried to make sense of these but I lost my sense. I tried to text you but I lost my nerve. I bought a TV to find out about you but I broke it. I found a crystal ball but i lost it. I went to a psychic and she told me lies, told me you were just fine. I try to find some drugs but I'm wasted. I tried to warn you but you won't answer. I tried to call you but you are out of your head. I tried to play the game but it was a game. I tried to make it home but I can't go back. I read books about you but I can't translate. I was so excited now i don't feel shit. How come is so shallow when I think is deep?
I tried to disappear but I can't find myself. I ran out of hope and I don't believe. I traded my Holy Water for cheap wine. Drank the dirt, ate the sand, tried whatever I had in hand. I started some fires and slashed some tires. I threw some punches but all I got was the munchies. I tried to hate you but I'm still your friend. I'll make some sense of these at the end. You are all gone and I'm still at the gate breaking the law from state to state. I tried to hold you back but I forgot why. I tried to explain it but I can't care less. I'm all gone.

SE7EN THOUSAND

I spent too much time of my life jumping from one relationship to another. This made me believe I was never alone or may be that time was not passing me by. It's been such a long life. Times like these for me now are hell. I got buried rumours crawling from the woods. I know you fuck what you love and you love what you fuck. Your heart is a whore and love is just lust. I'll keep it true. I don't love . I just fight because everything breaks and you always want what you can't have. I know your tricks once called me over but your mind is fake and Iam sober.
I really don't want to think about those things anymore. It's time to leave. I've got to get out of here. I've always been falling but not on my knees. I know you want me to keep on going but why you want to know where Iam if we got eyes that leave us in places we don't see.
I know there is seven thousand things I'd rather do and be than you.
Your heart is a whore and love is just lust. Why are you always a fucking ghost?

UNBEING

In a place called Lost strange things are found.
Sometimes while walking I catch sight of what at a little distance looks like a jewel or a flower and turns out a few steps later to be trash. Yet, before is fully revealed, it looks beautiful.
Along the road the strangest things are wrapped like sweet candy. Sleepwalking, walking through my glory. Asleep on a train,haunted,homesick and lovesick. Winter is coming. The flowers are dying. I'm in a revolving door spinning like a plate on a stick. Here in a place called Lost is easy to find the circle only have one side.

Sleeping with Ghosts

It wasn't always like this. I can looked back to the days of yore when i was a happy man. And one day that snake destroyed all the happiness I'd ever known. I'll never forget that day. I just came back from a long day of work. There was a note on the pillow. One of those cold blooded one's, "Dear John,I'm running away from all this." I could feel the breeze of fear filling my face. For a while i was obsessed with the idea of finding her. Her trail let me to Gland,London,Belfast and Berlin. I found out that i missed her by three days when i got to Quito. So much for high speed trains and French cocaine. Yesterday came suddenly and tomorrow was today. I had no life. I dance with the devil every night in a self destroying quest for answers that i probably did not need to hear. When you dance with the devil, you wait for the song to stop and when your Halo slips for good you have to wear your hood.
I've traveled a thousand miles and all men are slime. I've traveled a thousand more and women are snakes. I was holding to life with extension chords with Southern tendencies and chemical dependencies. My infatuation was getting worst not as much as my addiction. After years of searching in vain i found a reason to stop. Her ghost comes a visit every once in a while. No sparks. No light in the dark. I know this time she'll leave in the morning and come back some other time just when I'm about ready to convince myself that i forgot totally about her and that I'm not sleeping with her ghost anymore. All that you can ever change the one you're looking for. I traveled far, What have i found? That there's no time to analyze. No time to think things through or to make sense. Keep what you got by giving it all away.

Hello Pretty

Sick of drugs and dancing feet
Sick of bars where people meet
Smell of crotch and sheets not clean
Hairy men in magazines
Every city looks the same
Running from the threat of rain
Pillow talk that's just for one
Saturday get nothing done
Lie to me
It takes less time
To drink you pretty"

The Tall Kingdom I Surround

It’s all castles in the air.
My heart was playing like a violin. Sunday and she called again. Now where can i go?
Somewhere the wind don’t blow me back into the conversations,promises and situations.
All the dreams that you dream i hope that they are all me.

FUEL

Music has always been a matter of energy to me, a question of fuel. Sentimental people call it inspiration, but what they really mean is fuel. I have always needed fuel. I am a serious consumer. On some nights I still believe that a car with the gas needle on empty can run about fifty more miles if you have the right music very loud on the radio.

Walking on Air

Our lives were just beginning, our favorite moment was right now , our favorite songs were unwritten. There is no place I want to be other than here with you. I didn't want to leave. I could hang at the end of her coat for weeks. Her voice keep me walking on air around the city. I could stare at her eyes for days. She guided me under her gaze. No need to eat either . This was a new feeling nobody warned me about. My hair was tossed. My eyes glossed but i kept floating pretending i was normal, acting like she didn't stole the keys to my heart and lost them just there.
Iam made of blue sky and hard rock and I will live this way forever but she made sky clearer and my night even brighter. I couldn't explain it. I didn't want any explanation.
I thought I was done. I promise I wouldn't touch another woman in years after Anne tear my heart into pieces.
She healed my immediately. We embrace in a soft and tender, friendly kiss. No need for more. As I float away I thought, I will love to see new places but I rather be here right now with you. I didn't turn I was intoxicated with her face, her voice,her eyes. The shinning waves of her hair kept feeding me. Just like a junkie I looked emaciated but I was full. More than satisfied,completed. Waiting for my next fix when my high was not even over.

Podophilia or Podophobia

I love to drive by myself. I feel like is a private moment to reflect,think and listen. I usually end up asking myself questions that challenge my choices, and how far will i go. I've never walked the line but i know how to cross it that's for sure.
Lately, I find myself behind the wheel quite often trying to catch up with new music on my way somewhere. Trying to catch up is hard,as hard as focusing on your destination,but embarking on a road trip alone helps a little. What does not help is what's out there,on the road,creeping in my mind like flashbacks of super freaky memories. It's on the road. It's coming at me. It's disturbing my peace of mind. Don't get me wrong, I love bare feet more than Quentin Tarantino but people in the passenger seat with their feet suctioned by the windshield of their cars on the highway is creepy and not very safe.
Use your imagination and picture what will happen if you crash at speed limit while holding your feet up high by the dashboard. Let me help a little in case your imagination is on vacation and you haven't heard about gravity and inertia. If you crash your car at an average 40 mph the box of tissues you left in the back of your car will impact you weighting no less than 12 pounds. Now,think what if you left your precious science fiction book (Bible) back there. Those are heavy. It will be like Jesus throwing you his cross at your neck. Well, now that we got that part out of the way what will happen to your legs if your unsafely resting? At least I hope these feet flashers are wearing seat belts. That will only cripple them from the waist down and in an eventual Jesus second coming they might end up walking again.
Do yourself a favor travel light,seat the fuck down. Just like the kids in the backseat. I know is painful,ask my balls, they have a lot to say in that particular matter. After all i have been sitting down like a gentlemen for years. I hope I see you on the road again you bastards!

Seria fantàstic

Seria fantàstic que anés equivocat i que el wàter no fos ocupat. Que fes un bon dia i que ens fes bon pes. Que sant Pere, pagant, no cantés. Seria fantàstic que res no fos urgent. No passar mai de llarg i servir per quelcom. Anar per la vida sense compliments anomenant les coses pel seu nom. Cobrar en espècies i sentir-se ben tractat i pixar-se de riure i fer volar Seria tot un detall, tot un símptoma d'urbanitat, que no perdessin sempre els mateixos i que heretessin els desheretats.

Guided by Voices

I could listen to Matt Berninger from the National sing the phonebook for hours and don't get tired. I can't find a better band right now to listen to and i feel alright . They have a new song out but i rather wait for a whole album . i can only wish or hope it will be half as good as Boxer.

Skeletal Driving

Iam a motherfucking headliner and bitch you don't even know it! Process it.
I am sitting inside my car driving towards Jacksonville,Fl. Low country road,and i feel like I am part of a low country boil. The humidity and heat is killing me. The anxiety of getting there is making my sweat more than what i can handle. Iam rockin' the highway with my ipod. I feel like a kid with ADD. I can't hear a full song. Iam brainstorming. I wanna hear so many things but i cannot wait until they randomly pop up next,it could take years. Instead of playing my ipod to dead i decided to play Skeletal Lamping by Of Montreal. Let me tell you ,if the record was a bit longer i would've arrived in Jacksonville totally gay or at least very bisexual. The record is very good but vividly,flaming gay. "I am so tired of sucking the dick of this cruel,cruel city," either their demographics change or they don't care. As a music lover i like the record,the flow and most of the songs. As a heterosexual man,too old to experiment in my sexuality department, i felt the record will be label under gay mescaline. As a straight man i did not feel any connection with most of the lyrics and i believe it may easyly disgust a radical right winger.
Next time i'll make sure i have more batteries left on my ipod or a back up compact disc for the four hour ride. For now, i bought the ticket and i took the ride!

Breakfast

By any means i will like to promote or endorse the use of drugs,violence,and alcohol abuse but those were great days!
Breakfast is a personal ritual that can only be properly observed alone, and in a spirit of genuine excess. The food factor should always be massive: four Bloody Marys, two grapefruits, a pot of coffee, Rangoon crepes, a half-pound of either sausage, bacon, or corned beef hash with diced chiles, a Spanish omelette or eggs Benedict, a quart of milk, a chopped lemon for random seasoning, and something like a slice of Key lime pie, two margaritas, and six lines of the best cocaine for dessert...my cousin want two orders of dessert only
Thanks,Hunter S Thompson always fearfully and disgustingly yours!

Empty Spaces,Familiar Faces

Not too long ago i managed to travel through time again. I found myself in a perfectly unfamiliar place with some hints of cities we all know. The place looked happy and full of sunlight at the beginning but to my surprise it was going to get dark but not just yet. I went to see my friend Jezebel who welcome me to her place . A cold cement building with two side access to the floors upstairs, and plenty of windows and cheap plants. For some reason the place looked familiar again and definitively secluded from the world. Only a handful of my friends I went to high school with and my brother managed to travel here. They must have learned just like me. They were staying with us as well. All we need is one night and we will be gone again.
Just as the skies,things were getting darker.
I secretly loved Jezebel for years but were always apart and I was never around. Now she's totally flirting with my brother and he's replying the flirting game. While Iam getting chills down my spine and we decided to go out to eat by the ocean the tension is clearly blowing in the wind . The mood is like when you taste aluminum at this place. I can see the tide being higher than usual. This is not normal, i thought to myself. My friend Francis was alone and he is concerned about his wife but he can't leave the place. Not that soon. When you travel through time one of the first things you learned is that there's no way back . Not at least till next morning. We all told Francis "nobody can't return before time" but i heard stories of people that return before sleep, he said. Nobody was certain. There are things you believe and things that are just there. Just because they're there does not mean they exist.
Dinner was great but I was more distracted by the tide that at any given moment will turn into a tidal wave. Nonetheless this horrible feeling, after the dinner we fly over the city very close to the sea . The city was like New York at night . Like the photos of Ted Croner in black and white when all you can see is bright lights and flashing lights and dark shapes of black. This was magnificent. The moment made me forgot about everything and i did enjoy the ride but apparently i didn't travel here to enjoy the view nor to be happily ever after.
When we went back home that's when things started to happen. Jezebel never told me till then she has a daughter,Judith. She's beautiful and tucked in her bed sleeping. Jezebel explained to me the reasons why she hide this from me. I am not resentful at all. I am curious about the child and what kind of handicap she was born with . It's hard for Jezebel to tell my this and not cry. She just said: you'll see but all i can hear is Francis screaming outside-- I did it, lets get out here!
He comes running to the room. He's wearing this special suit. Everyone has one. They have one for me. The little girl wakes up. She looks scared. I get close to her and then she stands in her bed and i felt the presence of pure evil. I couldn't move. I was hold by this force not letting me go but she was born without hands. How can she possibly hold me . My friends could not touch me . I was inside her shield. She will not let me escape . I was going to be her cure,her salvation. She was going to take all my knowledge and powers and drain me to dead.
But Francis reach my hand and got my out .We left as soon as i put the suit on. I felt relieved. We all scream "it can be done,we did it!"
You can always open your eyes and wake up in your own bed.

"Fuzzy Wuzzy" refers to a lady's private parts. I came across the phrase in Don Delillo's novel Ratner's Star. The young math wiz in the book ask to see a woman's fuzzy wuzzy. I stole a couple of lines from a women's fashion magazine,always a good source for florid and silly descriptions.
Sexy long swetear dresses
Chocolate knee-high leather boots
Maybe tonight will be the night
I can see your fuzzy wuzzy -Dean Wareham from Black Postcards

Who Mistake The Steak for Chicken?

I have never hit on a girl on a supermarket pushing an empty trolley but sometimes things just click in your head and she was disturbingly beautiful. Another thing i don't do very often is go to Wal-Mart in the middle on a Sunday on a holiday weekend but i needed a cheap DVD player,can you blame me?
So i hurried to electronics avoiding contact with recently freed little persons and low income people sucking on free AC. I almost made a decision but a tall, pale blond smile at me. I smile back but nothing in my mind is telling me she is flirting with me until i caught her looking at me like i just rollback twenty bucks!
I still didn't do shit. We were looking at the same stuff so we talk a little about the product, smile and part. I left the store thinking ...i will never see this woman again, ever and it is her fault and mine alone. I walked towards the car and my mind is racing with second thoughts of going back and of course i forgot something. Besides what are the chances of seeing her in a 17000 sq.ft store? better than coming back any other Sunday. I rush by the elderly greeter and without trying she is heading to checkout. We smile with relief at each other immediately but i still did not say anything . I kept walking to find what i forgot at the store, can you believe that? Ten paces after my dumb decision i turned around and went and talk to her. We meet briefly right by the tanning bed were the roasted chicken laid for hours. How romantic!
Sometimes we don't act and then wonder what if...the rest of the day or the rest of our life. I did act this time. No wondering for the evening . No gasping for air. A little more than a face in the camera of my brain.
We'll meet again by the roasted chicken? I highly doubt it!

MOODY

In the land of Lotus eaters, time plays tricks on you. One day you are dreaming. The next day has become your reality. It was the best of times. If only someone had told me. Mistakes were made, hearts were broken, harsh lessons learned. My family goes on without me,while i drown in the sea of pointless pussy. I don't know how i got here but here i am--
rotting away in a warm Southern sun. One thing I've learned in my travels through time:
A morning of awkwardness is better than a night of loneliness.
I ate the Lotus

UNSTRUSTABLE

"Alright,so at the end of the day if you could do anything else,telemarketing,pharmaceutical sales, ditch digging,major league umpire... I would suggest that you do that because being a writer blows. It's like having homework everyday for the rest of your life."~
Well I have this crazy idea that i can write for a music magazine or something like that . It will not take too long to refine my writing skills and English. I love music and fortunately i cannot stop exploring new genres and bands. I also figure i will save myself some money and get paid on my way to a concert and report from the balcony.
I read music magazines constantly and hate when reviewers instead of trying to explain or describe some band to you they go out of their league and start judging creativity or lack of it. Most of these writers do not have much more music education than the average listener. They just happen to have writing skills and an under the influence undergraduate degree.
Yes, there are so many untalented bands signed out there and people deserve to know about it but i don't agree on trashing a band in a review. The review sole purpose is to inform and create and idea of what are you going to get not to diminished even untalented musicians.
I don't know if i can make a living out of this . Times are changing fast. Nobody reads newspapers or magazines anymore. Everybody is blogging. Everyone is texting. No one talks anymore.No punctuation. No grammar. A whole new language out there. LOL this . WTF that! Once again instead of evolving we are skipping and pseudo-communicating. I'm part of the problem .I'm out there blogging and loathing in disturbing thoughts.
I will consider myself lucky if i can inform and describe my readers about a band or album using all the knowledge learn trough the years in this crazy little thing called life. Let's take the best band in the world that nobody knows,LUNA. I will describe their sounds like The Velvet Underground meets Neil Young with an out of the ordinary songwriting skills that tells dark stories no one else will. Most of the people reading this and able to dress themselves will have an idea of what iam trying to describe.
I believe your job becomes harder when you have to do a review on a band you don't like already. A genre you personally find disgusting or even when you have to do a review on a band you idolized . I hope i never create more expectations in my head than the fans that expect a better or at least same follow up product of an existing band.
You cannot agree with everyone that's for sure . I think Luna's best is PUP TENT not PENTHOUSE and we can go on forever on that particular matter.
I've learned not to trust critics of any kind and music writers. We often disagree. Now that alone will make these very challenging and exciting and I will become untrustable.

Thanks for the support to B to the A to the R to the other B, you are so loved.

MEETING PEOPLE IS NOT THAT EASY

I'm so fueled by these so called celebs. Who invented their status as celebrities. I know some of us are to blame of following and eating news from our favorite artist .I don't remember giving power to them to tell me what to do or how to behave just because they said so or because they endorse a product or campaign. We all agree they do have a better chance at reaching people to make them AWARE of situations in our fucked up world. Since when a little bitch is going to tell me not listen to a band just because they refused to meet her. So this Diva wanna be=Cunt said and I'm quoting :"Stinking Radiohead. I'm gonna ruin them.I'm gonna tell everyone." Miley Cyrus.

Well thanks to you all the other sixteen year old diaperwearing little girls are not going to purchase any more Radiohead products, if we are Lucky enough. Thom said before leaving California: "wish us all a safe journey if you still like us and you are not one of those people i managed to offend by doing nothing."

Just because your product is markeatable doesn't mean is good .Your sales does not mean you got talent. When your product creates loyalty,reaches masses and lasts that is when you done something right. Iam sorry you couldn't meet the band. Suck it up and fall into reality or may be Thom Yorke is a bigger Diva than this brat? I doubt that.

Your celeb status is not to get something in return but i guess meeting people is not that easy!

UNHAPPILY EVER AFTER

We search for the one since our brain send that message to the rest of our body that we are attracted to someone. The opposite or the same sex , your preferences are not important nor they will amaze me at this point in life. Lately,i feel i 'm missing that special one . I've been drifting from side to side and feeding from familiar faces in empty spaces. New pussy may hold the promise of something better, but sure as shit is not love. So the conclusion is simple: this shit is complicated!
I don't know if i rather be a ghost drifting from side to side or a condemned soul hurt by love. At some point your heart and the memories of love will make your spirit never be lonely.
We are meant to lose the people we love. The more it hurts the more they meant to us.
For some reason instead of crying we end up smiling. Every time you think of those memories they will make you happy even when you are miles away.
I can't deny that sometimes you feel empty and with pockets full of love to give but it doesn't make you feel defeated.
The way i see it iam very blessed .If i die in my sleep tomorrow I'll go with a smile knowing that my friends and family had the best of me and they love me more than what i know.
The road is long and full of new plans and dreams. i 'm going alone and excited but even if i live unhappily ever after i will go with a smile.

TicketMaster or TicketBastards

So a recent show that i was going to enjoy got cancel or postponed. Whatever you want to call it it really does not matter much. An artist can be sick or as well if they don't sell enough tickets to break even why do the gig, right?
The problem start when you want your sitting duck back (money).Which by the way was sitting since January in someone elses pocket.
I've got a refund from our friends from Ticketbastard,very close friends of the band Pearl Jam i believe. The refund will be credited to my account in 3 to 5 business days for unknown reasons. My funds were deducted in 3.2 seconds. Well ,that's fast service for you. Then in addition to my already violently pissed, one cell left brain ,they are keeping some money for the inconvenience charge.
Should i be the one getting some interest? a fucking sorry for this,hey here's a free ticket to Disney on Ice or better Scotch on fucking ice!
Once i believed in customer service. Now is a very expensive privilege.I can only hope and pray to Darwin that these people evolve or cease to exist and for once we can have more than one option to go see the shit that comes to your town without getting screw by the same old box office.
Since evolution might take some time i am moving on.
fearfully and disgustingly yours,