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 |   The catch-all for items related to and/or inspired by the music that shaped me. |
Music has played a role in nearly every situation of my life. This is where I'll be collecting items inspired by those moments- poems, lyrics, blog entries- the soundtrack of me.  I may also contribute blog-style entries here from time to time:
And this month, I've decided to take part in... ![Merit Badge in Quill Award
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Congratulations on winning the 2017 Quill Award for Best Music for [Link To Item #2072393] . *^*Delight*^* See [Link To Item #quills] for more information.](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Quill_Award-1375927_6.gif)    Best Blog |
** Image ID #2123241 Unavailable ** You guys! Know what today is?? Allow my man to let you know...  And I'm not sayin' I'm gonna celebrate, because I've done something. OMG what have I done??  I finally decided to sign up for "a very Wodehouse challenge"  , which I'd been kinda sorta wanting to do for awhile and missed out on it last time by like three minutes (no joke), and I'm not nearly doin' enough this month after not really doin' much for real the last six months  . So yesterday I got my tasks...and yeah, I get that Wodehouse is supposed to take you out of your comfort zone, so by no means should this be considered complaining, because I'm game and willing to do what I have to do...but I got basically the "horror challenge". If you've been with me here for any length of time, you'll probably note that I've never, for as long as you've known me, expressed any sort of interest in that particular genre. And you would be correct, whether you've known me for two months, five years, or since the moment I first joined Stories.com back in the days of dial-up modems. Horror! Oh, the horror! I used to joke around to myself that maybe it'd be fun to try and write some horror, and then I'd kinda chuckle and go back to my lazy river with my granola and my notebook and write more poetry for the hippies  . But now? This is like, real. I feel like a football player who goes on some reality dancing program for the teevee only he's out of shape and has also lost a leg at the knee. I have zero clue how to even go about it. I can barely shit out a poem some days. Hell, I'm lucky if I can answer a stranger's question sometimes with a complete sentence. And on top of that, one of the challenges is to write Product Reviews. Know how many of those I've written in the almost 16 years I've been coming to WDC? Zero. Know how many different horror products I've consumed in that same time frame? Very close to zero. Know what I learned today? When you have to write a 666-character count review in the PR function of "Create New Item", there's no actual character count listed. I wrote three today (one for a book that's sorta horror I guess, and two for really totally violent, over-the-top gangsta rap cds), and I basically estimated. Not having done something before + guessing at the particulars = probable failure . But hey, I'm doing something different I guess. Challenging myself, or something. And I think I can do it. I've got two weeks...we'll see. I also poem'd a bit today as well, cuz Kit of House Lannister  and Cinn  and I forget who else at this point are trying to do 100 poems in a hundred days and like I mentioned earlier, today was kinda that day where I could barely shit something out. It wasn't good (like I always say), and it's #22 in the "Also Mutants" collection, "Given The World" ...a cheesy little fictional romance piece about a happy couple being happy in their happy place like happy couples are, or some happy horseshit. And of course because I'm never satisfied (y'all should know this by now), I had to come up with something else (#23), so I did, and it's better but I know it might need a tweaking or two later on. And like everything else I kinda sorta like it's got some strong lines and it's a little angry/cynical, which is fine by me. If you read it be gentle with it (but stomp all over the other one; I won't mind cuz it's kinda lame  ).  We Have No Idea We're gonna die from the inside. Each letter in the chemical is toxic; we're growing alphabets and ingesting sentences that would doom lesser species. But what are we supposed to hate? More and more and more? I don't win for getting to breathe the same air that blows the bees and the government wants to tax with pollutants and bombs and a myriad of complex neurotransmissions meant to stem diseases at the cost of newer, unnamed ones. And if you think that's a mouthful don't hold your breath; just because it sounds important, that doesn't make it right. We're gonna die from the inside anyway, just so we're clear, but it's everything on the everything on the outside that starts our processional process. Just so we're clear. "We Have No Idea" from "Also Mutants" . Here's a fun fact about me: whenever I see someone wearing a gas mask of any kind, I always think of this song...because for the longest time, I thought "glass pack" was some form of war-grade gas mask that people put on to avoid fumes from chemical weapons. I believed this well into adulthood. Probably up until about thirty minutes ago  . "The Wake-Up Bomb" -R.E.M."Practice my T-Rex moves and make the scene. Carry my dead, bored, been there, done that, anything."    So, y'all know I love me some Twitter more than just about all other forms of social media combined, right? Even though "New Twitter" kinda sucks, @fivesixer is still the same...and anyway, so Amazon I guess bought Whole Foods today, which I've never been in but I hear either really great things or really terrible things about it depending on who you're speaking to, and who cares because thankfully Twitter showed up to tell us all about it and how the sale made them feel. And I mean, ok cool, there's a local indie organic shop in town here that I like to go to once in awhile because it's close and healthy and whatever, but I'm kinda not down with payin' ridiculous money for veggies that haven't been sprayed with a metric fuck-ton of chemicals or animals that weren't hopped up on crystal meth before being ground up into nuggets. It's kinda hard sometimes choosing a side. I kinda thought by 2017 we'd be eating everything in pillform by now anyway, which is a bit of a letdown that it's not happening. I guess I didn't have "organic chain stores owned by giant internet companies" on my 2017 bingo card.  OMG, remember Choose Your Own Adventure books, from when you were a kid? I loved them!! They were these paperbacks that would give you the option to flip to certain pages of the book to move along with the story, and there were different things you could do and multiple endings and stuff...you could have like five different ways of reading the same book (give or take, depending on the title). Anyway, some masterful genius has decided to map out the books to show how the books are structured. Maybe that takes a little bit of the fun out of reading them, and trying to figure out how many different ways they can go, but it's still pretty neat. I may need to see if my library has a copy of Inside UFO 54-40 or Mystery of the Maya just for old times' sake  . *cargray* And finally, a feel-good story from my hometown getting some love nationwide. A Buffalo man brought his truck into a collision shop this week because racist vandals spray-painted the n-word all over it. The guys at the shop dropped everything and immediately began working collectively on cleaning it off, and the owner didn't charge him for any of the work done. Further proof that there are still some decent people left in the world. Alright you fine-ass people out there...I'm gonna get outta here cuz I got things to do and read and figure out, hopefully before the weekend's up. And speaking of the weekend, may you all have fantastic ones. Peace, make an ugly mess, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
** Image ID #2123241 Unavailable ** Whaddup y'all? Man, it's a beautiful thing when everything works out the way it should...when you're putting something together and all the pieces just snap into place with minimal effort and the end result looks exactly as it's pictured on the box. Today's blog entry, brought to you by Burger King , is absolutely about that not happening.After seeing today's images, I was fairly set on which one I would use for a poem, and then build a blog entry around it. Things began falling together nicely; I even started making notes in my physical "Also Mutants" notebook as to what I'd discuss (that's how I know I'm back back: making blog entry notes...that's like the 2013 shit right there). I had some websites of goofy stuff, I had the song picked out (which Charlie ~  would say he'd be disappointed if I didn't include if I wrote something about hands ), and I was good to go. All I needed was a new poem to go along with an old poem ("Purgatory" ) I wrote a couple years ago after a dream I had based kinda on that song. So the new poem came. And- surprise!- I hated it. Didn't like the title; didn't think it wound up being right for the piece. Thought the body was too dorky. Maybe too science-y (although some of you much smarter people will be all confused and say it's not science-y enough, and ya got me there). So I took a quick break and tried to reset the image in my mind...and wrote something else I promptly decided was also not good enough. Corny, cheesy, lame, Disney Channel, Junior High feel-good pep rally nonsense. If you're keeping score at home, they're poems #17 and #18..."Some Kind Of Ancient Ruse" and "What We Bring" .Disappointed but undeterred, I turned my focus to the alternate picture for today. I thought about ego, and the one residing in a person who maybe was once good or perhaps the best at whatever he or she did a generation or two ago, but has been replaced due to age and cheaper/better labor and technology, and the best that person could do now was to hope to get by on name recognition alone but was struggling. I'd like to think I channeled my minimal anger and disappointment at having struck out twice today into a bit of cynicism and joy at this fictional person's demise . I guess you could say that when I was finished with it, I felt that satisfaction of being done...took a little longer and the instructions weren't all in order and the language wasn't always readable, but it pretty much almost looks like it shows on the package, even if there really wasn't a package to begin with .  Silver At Sleep What's it feel like to be a post-modern industry, dying? You jumped to one too many conclusions; now you can't fall for standing. These days that many shades of blue will never look good on you unless it's beside the sea of self-pity you've relaxed in after a steady diet of yourself. And I love that you're too proud to say you're stuck when we all know the wheels are turnin' but there's no place to go. You can't just be. You can't let it be. "Silver At Sleep" from "Also Mutants" .Woulda been far too easy to plug in The Tragically Hip's "Silver Jet" in this space and been done with it, but I feel like I've used them in so many entries in my blogging history already...and that's much closer to a love/romance song (although it's kinda not, actually), so let's move to a different part of Canada and go with a slightly more cynical song. "Silver" - Moist"Everybody wants...everybody says...everybody begs...in time. You will be the first to fall. Every feeling will dissolve. We are silver."  From the "Don't Think We Forgot About You, Motherfucker" file: Apparently, it's ok to forgive Bill Cosby for all of his worst transgressions if you write for a newspaper and liked his tv show . Yep, this is part of America in 2017. We're still normalizing rape, sexual assault, and drugging women to commit both. And to think I've been worrying so much about not having flying cars in the 21st century  ...yet caveman behavior remains in style. Damn. Yes, the world is still a terrible place and will probably always be, and in addition to individual mental health therapist sessions I also take a group therapy DBT class (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) on Wednesdays (so I might be a little late with the Image IDs) so I don't go off and strangle fools or cut bitches or run my mouth to the point of getting the shit kicked outta me. And since we all need to laugh to fight off the world's terribleness, here's some tweets about group therapy .  But, ya know, in case you're interested in the not terrible things the world has to offer (and there are pockets of that goodness here and there, despite my best efforts to prove to you otherwise), you can show the world your romantic side and enter my friend Purple is House Florent  's contest, "Write From the Heart - Story Contest" . You have two days to get your entry in, which is, like, no problem if you, like, love and stuff, or something.  And finally, it's important to remember that not all heroes wear capes...this fine gentleman went to today's sponsor, Burger King, after a long hard day. He may have walked out spending much more than he planned, but it was entirely worth it and I would've done the exact same thing because fuck your spoiled bratty kid, and fuck the shitty parent who lets their kid act like a little rotten Trump while waiting in line at a busy fast food restaurant. I say to this man bravo in my deepest, most sincere voice. Alright all you fine, lovely individuals who've made it this far...it's time for me to move on to other things this evening. I've wasted spent far too much of my day thinking about this entry, and I'm afraid that if I don't quit soon it may consume me the rest of the night...that's not good for anyone, and it inhibits my ability to care about making more of them in the days and weeks to come. Peace, come touch and feel and lick and smell, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
** Image ID #2123241 Unavailable ** Hey folks! It's a beautiful Saturday evening...window's open, fan's blasting, and I'm not quite sweating myself into a human Slip 'n Slide yet, so that's a win. Yes, Saturday...the day WDC hibernates even when it's not gorgeous out. Apparently nobody rolls on Shabbos around here, and after nearly 16 years I still haven't gotten that memo. Whatever. To be perfectly honest, I have no real reason to even write this entry today either . The last time I absolutely had to be anywhere was Thursday, and I don't have to show up anywhere again until Wednesday. I don't even hafta leave the house if I don't wanna (and trust me, most days I really would prefer not to). Sure, there are a couple things I'd like to-slash-really should do, but maybe this isn't the week for that stuff. Also, whatever. Nope, just a Saturday blog entry because I'm also taking part in the "Invalid Item" and "The Bard's Hall Contest" , and I wrote a poem today (imagine that ). Maybe instead of leaving the house to go read a book, I should sit under a tree with a notebook and a pen and write poems. Wonder if they'd be any better than gathering ideas on the way to/from places and then squatting down on my bed to see what I can filter out. And you know, 95 times outta 100 I usually have a notebook with me when I go anywhere...but the last two days, in the month of a writing challenge? Nope. WTF. Whatever.So anyway, this poem today...it's pretty simple and straightforward. There are poems everywhere you go. Or stories, or blog entries, or whatever it is you write. Cinn and I have said this to each other at least a few times...inspiration is absolutely in everything. You don't even hafta be lookin' around for it. That's where I went to with the image I selected (and I know what you're thinking..."Finally...not the dark place!"). Hope ya like it. If not...it's Saturday. Whatever.  Writing The Path Every street I walk on is a poem that contains a line from each window. Sometimes it's the front-facing picture. Often it's the basement. I can tell it's yours when the light is on and the cat is resting attentively, like he owns my pen. I write what I know, like the old adage suggests, and I can recite the words by heart. They're the path I've worn from my door to yours. "Writing The Path" from "Also Mutants" .Everyone knows this song and loves it, even if they don't know they know it and love it. It's an inescapable fact (and don't make me prove it  ). Sometimes poems are inspired by songs, but as I was coming up with today's item this song kinda popped in my head and said "I'll be your companion for this fine bit of writing you're attempting, good sir!" and with a polite tip of the hat and a British accent like that, I couldn't refuse. The guy walking toward the light in the window on a dark night in olde Englandtowne, for whatever reason, conjured up this as a soundtrack to what his intentions might've been, or what he was in the mood for. My only request was getting the cover version by Braid, rather than the more popular original by The Smiths...my old school emo roots are showing . "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" -Braid"And if a double-decker bus crashes into us, to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die."  Yeah that's right...I leave the house to read books in the sunshine. And I've got a pretty decent tan to show for it! Finished up The FibroManual by Dr. Ginevra Liptan, and for real it's an excellent guide for living with Fibromyalgia. It's not all weighed down with doctor-speak; it's professional but engaging...she has it too, so she knows what it's like and wants to be able to relate her findings in a way that is easy to understand and also beneficial. And since I'm on the subject of books...  When I finished that, I went to the library to pick up a couple more...a poetry book, a graphic novel, and a book of essays about poetry. Am I excited to read all three? Yes, and I will at various points throughout the month. However, upon getting home, the bartender (I live on the second floor, above a bar) saw me comin' and greeted me at the porch with a package (awfully nice of him)...it was two signed copies of Mare ~ extended hiatus  's memoir, Writing Saved My Life , that I won awhile back in Kit of House Lannister 's "The Snail Mail Auction" . So cool, Mary Ann...thank you so much, and I'll be getting into it this week!  Hey, raffle fans! New raffle coming up in a few weeks, courtesy of my friend Choconut ~ House Targaryen  ...and your boy over here's got a package up for grabs  . No silly, a blog review, awardicon, and MB package for you and a Rising Star. But Rachel needs your help, so if you'd like to donate please hit the link below and show some future Rising Stars the love...
And finally, this is why I hate leaving the house sometimes...  That's right...when I woke up this morning, my dinky little college town was trending on Twitter. I was like "Holy shit, what did I sleep through??" and then I was like "Dammit, whatever it was, it didn't take me out ." So being the sorta-concerned citizen that I am, I clicked on it, and no shit...college playoff games, historical stuff, weather or something, a Starbucks opened up across town, just a lotta various dumb shit of zero importance to me and my Twitter feed (which is @fivesixer if you're interested). Oh yeah, so anyway, back to why I don't leave the house...the disappointment! Around the corner is Main St., and a couple blocks down they have a farmer's market. Couple tents set up with home-grown veggies and fruits, homemade soaps, some baked goods, random crap. It's not huge, and it's all run by people who appear to spend too much time in the garden to know what technology is. I was gonna buy lettuce and some cinnamon rolls- the person who makes them, bless your heart  - but for the second week in a row, no cinnamon rolls. And it's not like I waited until the last minute! I was there around 9:45am (they open at 8am)...nothin'. Weird flourless cookies? No thanks; I want gooey cinnamon rolls all invading my system. And then I went to buy the lettuce...and they didn't have a card reader . Cash fucking only. "We had a vendor that couldn't make it today, and the person who was supposed to get the card reader from her forgot." WTF?!  I should've tried bartering with them...I've got a shitload of canned goods and snacks I'd be more than willing to trade for some fresh lettuce and some mawfuggin' cinnamon rolls. "She'll be back on Tuesday." Yeah, she better (they only operate Tuesdays and Saturdays). Ugh. Fuckin' whatever.So that's been my non-exciting last couple of days. Hope all y'all are enjoying your weekend and it's nice and hella sunny where you are. Peace, I don't care I don't care I don't care, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
** Image ID #2123241 Unavailable ** Well alright you guys...we've made it past the first full week of the "Invalid Item" , which is pretty impressive...it's no bird snatching a kid impressive, but hey, ten poems in eight days isn't a bad way to start. Thanks for joining me so far...it's been kinda nice doing this again. So, before I go into today's poem, I'm gonna be up front about this...I chose the image of the girl on the ledge with the birds because it was somewhat odd and striking for being on the surface sweet and serene, and also I HAVE QUESTIONS. Who was watching that kid?? Who let her get up on that ledge? Child Protection Services is gonna be piiiiiissed. How/why is that kid holding a feather? Like, what are the chances? Sure, maybe it was just there and I know kids will touch anything, especially if it has any kind of texture, but what if that kid is some kind of a magical bird whisperer ? Does that mean she's destined to grow up and be a bird-themed superhero? Reach for the stars, kid. What's connecting the two birds on the right? Is it a worm? Seems too long to be a worm, and also I think they're too high for a worm to survive in that capacity. Also, if it were me, and say I picked that worm up off the ground in my mouth, by the time I flew up to the top of a building that high off the ground, my jaw would be aching and I'd probably be gagging. Assuming of course I hadn't already ingested it. I mean, that's why it's in my mouth, right? So really, what is that thing? The way that kid's positioned, she looks like she wants to comfortably slide down the building...like, say you're sitting on the deck of a pool with your feet dangling in the water, and then you just shimmy your hips a little and slide in down the side? That's what the kid is ready to do...not jump or fall, but casually slide down. Don't do it, kid...you'll ruin your dress and your mom will not be pleased. Why do I always think of the worst-case scenarios when I first see these pictures? Why do I constantly and immediately go to the dark place? Ok, so now that I've piqued your interest you're probably wondering WTF I'm talking about. Here's the pic and the poem; make of it what you will.  Cope Aesthetic Comfort seems to be defined as "someone must win, someone must lose, and know the loser has it worse than you". All the promise held may not be enough grace to stave off split-second group violence therapy. One day you're cheering in the crowd, and the next you're on the card. We feel at home watching war, more at peace because it isn't us than actually giving a damn. Learned immunity. That's all it is. As long as it's happening over there, I'm free to forget to remember why this isn't supposed to be funny to me. "Cope Aesthetic" from "Also Mutants" .When I first saw this image, I swear I saw a bunch of birds fighting and beating the crap out of each other, all to this little girl's delight. Plain and simple...first impression. And you know as well as I do, first impressions are tough to get past. There was violence and mayhem and more than one loosened feather. I looked at it as one panel of a comic strip...and by the end the birds were scattering with various, ummmm, souvenirs, if you will (ahem, no child in the final shot). Thug birds. Real killers with no remorse. Gang birds; first rule of bird club is there is no bird club. Why do I think like this??  "Clap For The Killers" -Street Sweeper Social Club"Well I wrote this for criminals, but all of y'all should listen at me."  Dammit, you have no idea how badly I wanna incorporate the line "Only in death will we know peace" into something, anything, and soon. Really soon. I wanted to work it into today's poem somehow, but once I started I lost focus on that when actual words of my own started coming out. But it's a fantastic line...I should Google it to see if it's been used before; something that good probably has. I won't though because I'm not using it today and don't care that much right now, but down the road...I'm calling dibs on it. No take-backs.  Perhaps you're like me, and have on occasion issues with coping. Maybe, like many Americans (and probably many of my UK friends too), this current administration is giving you a drinking problem . I know if I had a disposable income right now, I probably would've been in rehab by day 60 30 of the reign (had to take into account the ludicrous campaigning, debating, and general run-up to the election). Good news! Bars in Washington DC opened early for the Comey testimony this morning, because tailgating is probably the only thing America has left to rally around, and what better way to get through more of the government's ridiculousness than pregaming for a hearing with the former Director of the FBI? It started at 10:00am; thankfully I had things to do, or else I'm positive I would've drank myself into a stupor by the time he busted out "Lordy, I hope there are tapes." Sidenote: Please god someone remix that quote into a dance single or club banger. What the world needs now is a "Lordy, I Hope There Are Tapes" remix.  And finally...what was I doing instead today, that I couldn't be day-drinking while watching government officials wreck politicians and businessmen and vice/versa? I was at the therapist, assaulting my own head for its life choices while cursing the choices ahead of me. If Jon Hamm doesn't care who knows he sees a therapist, then that's good enough reassurance for me. I'm almost kinda glad my life's been the way it's been for so long; seeing my therapist is like 45 extra minutes where I'm not scrolling through social media and getting blasted with "Trump This"/"Trump That"/"Trump Definitely Didn't Pee On Hookers" constantly. I like to end blog entries with good news, or humorous stuff, or something light and fluffy. Facebook was all like "Fuck that! You get Comey stuff mixed with bad news and death and Russia and Comey and Trump didn't tweet but his kid did, and his lawyer misspelled 'president' ". If only my therapist's office had an open bar...Alright you people...I'm gettin' outta here. You got a poem and some insight and some nonsense and some news; if you want anything else outta me it's gonna cost ya. Maybe instead, go shut down your devices, chill, and talk to your families or somethin'. Peace, BCC: DC, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
** Image ID #2123241 Unavailable ** What's up y'all? You have no idea how happy I am that I've hardly done a damn thing today and it's pouring outside right now (as these things would normally irritate me to varying degrees)...tonight is supposed to be the annual Cortland Dairy Parade , and if it's been rained out, I'm not sad. I have lived here through *counts on fingers*...this'll be my fourth I think, and lemme tell ya, they're annoying as hell. I live roughing two buildings down from the parade route, and it's so loud you'd think they were actually having a fireworks display right outside my window. It's non-stop honking and people and just noise. No and thank you. I don't even know the history of it or why it's such a big deal. You'd think there'd be more info on it than a shittily-updated Facebook page, but nope, nothing. And granted, I'm not a native resident and also don't care much about this or what people do around here, but why are people all into making floats and marching down Main Street? The only dairies I know of here are basically just convenience stores and farmer's markets. I guarantee you they sell more packs of cigarettes than all the different units of milk combined. Apologies to your hard-working cow friends, ♥Hooves♥  ...I should probably be a better local citizen here .Anyway, I'll gladly allow the rain to fall tonight, even though it kinda killed any of my plans to maybe do things outside the house. Or should I say...killed the "me having to be disappointed or make up any excuse as to why I didn't get out of the house today" . I did, however, get a few things taken care of inside, which is kinda important and I need a cookie or several for...like, I made a phone call, and the person I was calling answered, and I was able to ask my questions and get the answers I was looking for. In 2017, we call that perfect confluence of events "finding a unicorn". Also managed to write a poem today, and one I don't feel too bad about, even though it's kinda sing-songy/lyrics-y. And not only that, but it started as free verse and by the time I got to the second part where a couple rhymes snuck themselves in there, I went back and reworked the entire first part to fit. And then it finishes kinda lame and cheesy and I guess on a positive, uplifting note, but you'll have that once in awhile.  We See With Our Feet Our jaws often get anchored in disbelief our faces can't break from. Every tooth turns into a root as we wind our way toward the truth. If history owes us facts, why are we reclined and relaxed wishing our maybes on fallen stars? That's how rumors start. When we're finally ready to believe, wandering's not only for mystique. It's how you learn to separate one-dimensional lies from faith. To only see straight at eye-level is like building your dream castle with eighty rooms and all the views but only furnishing the vestibule. Searching doesn't start with looking and the bottom's not the end but an opening. We can be statues with a couple words, collecting shit from aimless birds; instead let's rely on our senses to make the most of what life presents us. If we're moving we can't be mismanaged. We're not falling stars, we're orbiting planets. "We See With Our Feet" from "Also Mutants" .When I first took a look at the image I used for today's entry, I saw the head and then I saw the tree behind it; it kinda reminded me of a leg, with the head being the foot if you imagine the jaw being the toes. That's what I saw at least , and then I kept hearing this song in my head and kinda tried to weave them together loosely. "History Sticks To Your Feet" -Modest Mouse"Well, don't you look at me like life don't hold you anymore mystery."  Sad, sad day in Buffalo...one of the last great indie record stores, Record Theatre, has announced they'll be closing in a few weeks . There are very few places I genuinely miss in WNY, and Record Theatre is definitely one of them. If you added up the hours I've looked around in their locations over the years, or the dollars I've spent...*sigh*. Always shop local you guys, whenever possible. I seriously would not know where to go now in WNY if I wanted to buy an actual cd...Walmart? Best Buy?  Hard pass. People say now it's the move to streaming that's shuttering traditional stores...but for me it's the stores closing that will eventually force me into streaming. You'll hafta pry my cds outta my cold, dead hands and force me to Spotify or however you say it.  Oh, hey, hi there, people who write blogs! Don't forget about this...free to enter, but you'll need at least twelve days of blogging to qualify (as per "Note: *InLove2* Love to Blog? Have one on-going o..."). If you're already participating in something else this month, why not jump into The Bard's Hall as well?
 And finally...at least there's a new show I can watch that looks interesting! Australian comedian Jim Jefferies has a late-night talk show on Comedy Central premiering tonight...I've seen some of his bits before on topics like religion, gun control, and Trump, and he's really funny. Let's hope like most comedians who reach mainstream fame with tv shows and movies and all that, he doesn't become a major douchebag (lookin' at you, Dane Cook). Alright you guys, apparently a driving rainstorm won't stop the Dairy Parade. The poor marching band kids trying to play whatever patriotic song I'm hearing right now...man, props to them. I don't even wanna go downstairs to check my mail in this crap, and all I'm doing is going from one door to another on the same covered porch . And thank goodness I remembered to stay home...last year it was a little stormy and I couldn't cross the street where I was at until the parade finished. And now they're chanting...what could you possibly chant at a Dairy Parade?  See, this is why I don't parade. Normally when I hear whatever it is I'm hearing, it's later at night and coming from the college kids at one of the local bars. Hearing it in daytime is like walking out of a bar day-drunk into blistering, stifling sunshine...it's almost a shock to the system. I need to wrap this up so I can close my window, crank up some music, and kill the rest of the evening until I can go to bed. Peace, plants solidify sunshine, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
** Image ID #2123241 Unavailable ** 'Sup y'all? Weird day, which I'll explain a little bit more of later, but the important fact that is most pertinent to this very cult of internet you're looking at right now is that I, when faced with a choice, made one and stuck to it and didn't waver. And if you're keeping score at home, yes, that is a big deal. That doesn't mean I wrote a great poem, of course...baby steps, people. Remember when I said not to expect a poem from me every day, thinking in my head there was no way I was gonna even bother with that, and then I've gotten halfway through the first week with all-poem entries? Who's spoiled now??So, sorry not sorry, but yeah, only one poem today. Which means maybe I'll have some energy and patience to be sociable this evening (but don't push me ). I know it needs some cleaning up- trust me, I know...I was doing some while transferring it from my physical notebook to its online home. I should also note that maybe I should take a little more time to critically notice what is actually happening in these pics...I thought the shadowy figure had his back to the viewer, but of course upon further inspection after the poem was already written, yup, he's facing us. WTF...that kinda blows up my interpretation of the image a little bit . Oh well. Have a poem anyway.  Lateral Marionette There's a past and a future and a man at the divide silently longing to act on his own intuition. Free from a monologue preachin' from inside and a lifetime's cache of strings attached; long enough to see freedom and loud enough to know it can't be real. If what you want won't stop you, what you've done will. With deadly fiber optic precision another life's leash lets up dangerously close to countless possibilities feigning every hope and it gets him every single time. As soon as the blue starts to fade white the strings jerk back in time, seemingly, nanoseconds apart... reeling him loosely in. He wants to come out and play but he's a puppet of his making; the past, an incorrigible boss and ruthless deal-cutter. Control was signed over long before he could see intention for its worth; before the glow could entice. There is no show when moving sideways. Every wrong turn gets him a little closer to a sharper yank. Close enough is never close enough. "Lateral Marionette" from "Also Mutants" .Semi-obscure but not really obscure band time! I had a different song in mind at first, to be honest...and I also had a different poem title in mind as well (go figure ), but when I went to look up the song, I realized it was called "Silver Heat" and not "Blue Heat", which sorta wrecked the vibe and also would've rendered its relevance ummm...irrelevant. Luckily I wasn't married to the idea. Scrolling through iTunes, I came across this song and it always kinda makes me smile with that sorta downtuned, grunge-ish pop-punk sound that can't really be categorized as one or the other. A couple lineup changes later, they're this kinda well-known band AWOLNATION, but I saw them live at a Buffalo radio station festival concert as Home Town Hero. "Bleeds In Blue" -Home Town Hero"But hey, a little lullaby can start with burning eyes when all along, she feels good."  I guarantee you, had I forgotten to bring an umbrella today, I would've been caught in a torrential downpour...instead, just some sprinkles. Had to go across town for a doctor's appointment today and looking at the weather yesterday, I just took a screen-cap of it and sent it to Kit of House Lannister with the caption "Fuck my week I guess"...the forecast called for rain straight through to, like, Friday, plus thunderstorms starting this afternoon. Barely rained at all. Sun's even trying to come out a little now. But if I'd forgotten that damn umbrella, I'd be bitchin' about how miserable and wet I am .  Sooooo about that doctor's appointment...it was another hoop in my SSI/SSD appeal basically. My lawyer sent him some paperwork, and he called me in to go over it with me...and I'm glad he did. Line 4, first page: Does your patient meet the American College of Rheumatology criteria for fibromyalgia?  Yes  No  And I still don't know a whole lot of what all that means, so please don't ask me . But at least it's official now, I think? I've got it in writing and it's been sent to a lawyer, so that's gotta count for something.  And finally, so I got a haircut last week, and was going to color it yesterday, but before I do I need someone to explain this part of chemistry to me (I was really bad at Chemistry in high school, as anyone watching "Invalid Item" can attest to). I'll try to frame it in the form of a word problem to make it easier.I had blue hair, and wanted to dye it green, but in order to do that I first had to bleach it out so it was blonde enough to hold the new color (my natural color is more of a medium brown). However, when I rinsed the bleach out of my hair, I wound up with very blonde hair tinged with pink...I haven't even put the green in yet. Why did this happen? I think that's all I've got goin' on for tonight...peace to ~ Aqua ~ for the Awardicon that I won in the "Invalid Item" and the person responsible for my tickets...everyone go out and get yourself and your homies some! And that noise I made earlier about me maybe being social later...it's up in the air now, because I can't tell if I need a nap or missed my afternoon meds (oh the world of pharmaceutical self-management ). Naps and snacks...sounds like my plan for the night! Peace, they've heard it all before, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
** Image ID #2123241 Unavailable ** What's up y'all? Oh ya know me, just sittin' here trying to decide which poem I wanna use for the "Invalid Item" today, because I wrote one for each prompt and I'm not crazy (again) about either one. I can't figure out if I'm trying to hard, or not trying hard enough. The enthusiasm level isn't matching the talent level, and I don't know which one needs to be raised or lowered . Compounding the matter is that I like my blogs mostly humorous, but my poems mostly serious, or at least grounded, I guess. And if there have been fun prompts, I haven't been in a fun mood...same with the dark prompts. Why do I feel like a confused crisis lately? So indecisive. I'm getting things done and stuff...I just don't feel completely comfy and settled in yet, I think. Anyway, let's get the one I didn't use out of the way first, if you wanna read it. I think it's too choppy (which might work to its benefit, actually) and it's notable in my catalog for one big reason: as far as I know or can remember, it's the first time I've used a footnote in a poem. I hate footnotes. If I'm reading a novel with footnotes, something tells me I'm not smart enough on my own to be reading it. And I hate taking my eyes off the part I'm reading to figure out what I'm supposed to be reading, only to go back and find the place I left off and pick it back up...it's all distracting to me. But yeah, uhhhh...so I used the prompt where I assumed was some kind of witch/witchcraft thing goin' on, and it turned into like a protest march anthem ...here's the sixth entry from "Also Mutants" , "Silent Weapons For Quiet Wars" . It's also worth noting that I intended to use that title for one of the poems I was working on yesterday- somehow I must've gotten quite the boner for it- but realized it didn't fit. And it barely fits here either...I really had to sand and prime and lube the hell outta it, and I can still kinda hear it telling me to stop because it hurts. Moving on... Instead, today you get poem #7, which is a quick little romp about role-reversals and (a distorted) balance in relationships, I think. I really wish I could've had more fun with this, because I love monkeys and this monkey is clearly either living his best or worst life right now, while the poor woman can't decide if she should save the veggies or the dress (or whatever it is in the monkey's grip). I maybe could've done more with it...but that was about all I had. I took a sandwich break and there's no comin' back from that . Helper Queen Of The Baboons I let her think she ranks above me but she doesn't realize I'm on my own if I don't turn the crank. It's not the companionship, it's the entertainment I'm after... and I don't need her but I can't let her go. "Helper Queen Of The Baboons" from "Also Mutants" .There are lots of songs about monkeys. Lots of decent songs about monkeys. I could probably make a list, here and now, if I didn't have anything else to do today. And don't forget about bands like The Monkees, Simian Mobile Disco, and Sprung Monkey. But this here, this song, this might be the quintessential epilogue to a monkey's long, full, storied life. I'd like to think the baboon in the picture above (and hell, maybe even the one in the poem too) made it there safely and securely. And on my more cynical days, I hope this song is sarcastic as fuck and that monkey gets what he deserves when the ground is burning . I'm sure there are 8 million different interpretations of a song that basically doesn't mean anything other than the singer thinking the title sounded neat. Another attempt at exploring the hypothetical place each person has in a relationship, along with the view of what's really going on, maybe? I dunno...it's The Pixies; shut up and play the clip. "Monkey Gone To Heaven" -The Pixies"If man is 5...then the devil is 6...and if the devil is 6... then God is 7...This monkey's gone to heaven."  I still can't help but wonder if maybe that lady with the groceries did or said something to the monkey that really pissed the monkey off, and the monkey's just retaliating out of defense . I mean, context is everything, right? How many times have you seen a picture of yourself in an awkward spot and had to tell people every time it comes up "No, listen, this is what was really goin' on..." and of course cuz the camera don't lie, your friends are all like "Sure Lester, but why was that baboon so close to your butthole in the first place??" And that's where I'm gonna leave off and let you sort that all out, cuz I could be here all night pondering this and about a million other things. Peace, I'll get mine too, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
** Image ID #2123241 Unavailable ** Hello there! The third installment of the "Invalid Item" has found me at a critical juncture...I really dug the pic of the turtle, but was having a really difficult time trying to figure out what it was saying to me. It was almost like there were too many different ways I could've gone with it, each with interesting little spikes and turns and jabs, but no one idea was grabbed me. And when I'd run over a line in my head, nothing would attach to it. Frustrating. I kinda started fixating on a theme based on the classic Aesop fable The Tortoise and the Hare , and since I couldn't shake it I figured I'd start spinnin' it and see where it went. Annnnnnd it got outta control in a hurry . It turned into a bastardized fairly tale; the kind maybe I wish I'd heard when I was a kid, or the kind your drunk uncle pulls you aside for at holiday gatherings. When I think about the choices I've made in life, and how like a lot of people I one time gave thought to maybe being a teacher but didn't, my school-age self didn't realize I'd instead be writing a near-terrible poem based on something other little kids are supposed to moralize for themselves . So, if you're really bored (or if you are the drunk uncle), maybe later on take a look at the fourth installment of "Also Mutants" ...the one that wasn't good enough to make it into this entry, "The Turtle vs. The Hare, 2017" . Now, onto the real reason why you're here:  Hybrid Turtle I'm tired of crawling out of my shell. The analog architecture of this body isn't meeting 21st century demands, and I can't live another hundred years standing still. But while you're getting me ready for the next millennium, don't leave me behind. I need to keep up with the times. The only problem I can see is a future passing by as I'm doing all I can to live in the now, and when I finally think I'm all caught up I'll have to climb back in to see there's still so far to go. "Hybrid Turtle" from "Also Mutants" Yeah, I also got stuck on the idea that this turtle is some mix of old and new technology. I could've gone The Terminator route, but since I hadn't seen that movie since...since probably when it hit cable in the 80's, I didn't feel like I had enough knowledge on the subject. Although...I don't know much about turtles either, and that didn't stop me from writing two turtle-based poems . Another one of those instances where you hear a song at random, and then you see a picture and your brain starts doing the mental gymnastics to make it relate somehow to what you're writing, two hours later . When I saw the turtle I just kept cycling over and over the line "I'm on your back", with an image of some other creature, like a squirrel of miniature rabbit, hitchin' the worst Uber ride of their poor little forest life. And that, unfortunately my friends, is all I've got for today. My concentration level for the second day in a row is barely hovering above zero (which is why writing a nearly two-page poem in some kind of loose style/voice I don't think has surfaced in forever is astonishing, and then realizing it wasn't good enough by whatever standards I have so I had to force out another), so maybe tonight's a good night for me to take it easy and read up some of the other entries that I've fallen behind on. Happy Saturday night folks! Peace, weren't you adored, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
** Image ID #2123241 Unavailable **  Prompt (Blog City): "All of us have slumps and getting back on track varies drastically among us so let's toss ideas around on how to stay motivated with our writing. What works best for you?" Welcome back! Day 2 of the "Invalid Item" is upon us, and I'm working in a little "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" action for added measure today, although I'm not exactly sure how on point or helpful I'll be . People say a lot of things (about me) and I don't agree or disagree with them, but I can tell you the one thing I know I'm a master of, and that's falling into a slump as far as writing is concerned. I'm also exceptional at staying in slumps, because it's so easy (Captain Obvious voice). And it's not just the slump itself that winds up being the factor in maintaining it...as I'm sure many of you know, it turns into motivational issues. And that in turn leads to dread and self-doubt: Will I be able to do it again, when it was easy to write daily? Will it feel the same? Will my enjoyment and love of it come back? Nobody does things because it makes them feel shitty or sad, and what's the reward, or even the point, if there's no sense of accomplishment then? You're just dragging yourself down a staircase that has no end, and you're going through motions that seemingly have no meaning. And so you don't bother. And it sucks when you just don't have it in you to do the thing you love. Y'all know what I'm talkin' 'bout. Chances are, you've been there on some level. Sometimes I feel like I'm fighting that off more than I'm writing, and even though I didn't blog much in the last year I did write a lot more poetry than I have in the last couple years. I guess that's a win, or at least some progress. What helps me? Support. Lots of support. People interested in the projects I take on for myself, and having people doing their work next to me (so to speak). Like I mentioned yesterday, there are a couple of us who are doing this and also trying a "Give It 100!" -style challenge to get ourselves back in the habit of writing. We're motivating each other and keeping ourselves accountable a bit...strength in numbers and all that . As much as we may sometimes say we do this for ourselves, we're also doing it to share it with other people...we know others are gonna read it and hopefully enjoy it. And getting started, as cliche as it sounds, is just taking that first step and doing it...you have to start somewhere, and hope some of the muscle memory is still there to recapture your voice and how it feels to be back in the community. Once you've found a group or project or activity you think you'd be interested in, you just have to go for it. You don't get to the top or bottom of a staircase by staring at it, and you might slip or wobble if you haven't been there in awhile, but eventually you'll find yourself saying "Geez, that wasn't so bad...why haven't I been doing this?" and if you're lucky, you'll feel like you never stopped. Then, make sure you reward yourself with a sandwich and a nap . The best way to ensure you don't get caught up in a slump is to not take days off, even if you're not really feelin' it. You don't have to write necessarily, but ideas and inspirations are literally everywhere you look. Sometimes a day spent recalibrating your perception and adjusting the way you look at things can be more beneficial than staring at a blank screen wondering WTF you're doing. Wasn't sure which image to use today...and once I got it in my head that "6/2 back of head" might almost be too easy, I had to figure out how I was gonna go about it. I like that this staircase seems like it's kinda in an open area (ok, maybe that's a stretch ), yet it also seems like as soon as you stop payin' attention someone's gonna reach up and snatch your ankles (also a stretch, but I liked how that phrase "snatch your ankles" sounded in my head when I first saw the image ). Then I started flipping through some notes I've been keeping and some ideas started coming. I ended up with a poem, which isn't a bad thing even though it's depressing and about depression and anxiety. Not really sure what else to say about it.Lower I can see myself in you, struggling to put one foot in front of the other. What we fail to grasp: there is no winner, no trophy for Disease League Champion. Don't look down. There's nothing more to see but more of nothing to see. How can I be your railing when it's me who needs a stair? It should be a simple concept... one foot in front of the other. Going. Coming. Yet too tense to flee in every which way to move at all. Say it like it scares me... your paralysis becomes mine attacking with temerity. Spirals only flow in one direction at a whirlpool's pace and we have to walk ourselves together one foot in front of the other. "Lower" , from "Also Mutants" I almost feel like I post this song kinda regularly whenever I start to talk about depression. And I say the same things about it: it's creepy, gloomy, scary, etc. But when something is what it is, how many different ways are there to say it? "Climbing Up The Walls" - Radiohead"I am the key to the lock in your house that keeps your toys in the basement... and if you get too far inside, you'll only see my reflection." Public Service Announcement: You'll have to forgive me, but every time I talk about depression I have this compulsion to share this...if you or someone you know is struggling, please seek help . In the US, call 1-800-273-8255. In the UK call 0800 068 41 41. For my Canadian friends , here is a list of Crisis Centres broken down by province. If you live in a country that has people in it, they're bound to have a website and/or confidential helpline...there is help out there, no matter your circumstances.  Currently contemplating whether or not I want to move...either back home with my mom, or find an apartment out here in Cortland (currently renting a room...not ideal), or stay put. There are pros and cons to each situation that seem both advantageous and limiting, which is making this decision very difficult and stressful...and it kinda shouldn't be, but there's no clear right answer at the moment. Could be why I'm just not feeling right...it's in the back of my mind 24/7, and I know I'm gonna hit a deadline eventually where I'll have to pick something and stick with it...and that's not one of my strong points.  And finally, since I gotta lighten the mood up in this entry somehow, everyone's heard of and/or got one of them fidget spinners, right? I'm getting my hands on one soon, as I can see myself using it in a few of my life's situations. All one has to do is watch me during any of the WDC Live broadcasts to see I have no idea how to sit still for more than 10 seconds . Anyway, I guess this dude found a fidget spinner in his wife's underwear drawer, only it clearly was not . Alright, well, I think we're done here for today. I promise I'll try to have a more fun entry tomorrow...we'll see. No promises, but that's the loose goal. Time to go get me that sandwich and a nap . Peace, either way you turn I'll be there, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!      |
** Image ID #2123241 Unavailable ** What's up everybody? Gotta admit, it feels kinda good to be back churning out blog entries again...pretty sure (too lazy to look it up ) the last time I did anything like this semi-regularly was last August for the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" camping trip across Europe, and y'all know how that ended up . Feels a little scary too though, because now that there's been such a layoff for me, I have the creeping doubts and wonders asking myself if I can still do this at a level I'm used to. Eh, at least I'm typing again while thinking and composing thoughts, so that's a good sign. I'm hoping I can keep it up for another 29 days...we'll see. And this is a great exercise for me to get back into action. I did the "Invalid Item" back in 2015 and had a good time with it, so why not give it another go? Of course, then the first prompt comes down and I'm all like "maybe this isn't a good idea" ...but then I gotta tell myself "tough shit...this is what you wanted to do". Someday me and my inner self will be friends...today is not that day . I didn't know where I wanted to go with today's choices. I do rather like the image of the two people on the train tracks...it evokes mostly good memories and makes me a little nostalgic for a younger, simpler time. I'd say I spent a good 3/4ths of my life living near train tracks (active and inactive). There was an abandoned set that turned almost into a trail that I could bike down, which started a few blocks from my house and let out onto the access road for the then-new mall in town...it made getting to the mall so much easier than navigating a busy road and thruway exchange, plus there was a little spot that abutted the back lot of my high school. I hopped that fence a few times as a means of getting out of Calculus class and prank-calling the school from the mall to harass the substitute teacher . But yeah, I didn't wanna tell old stories, and wasn't in the mood for reliving my past specifically. I'd determined earlier that I was gonna start "Give It 100!" this week, and was all set, until I actually looked at the forum and saw they weren't accepting new participants...but Cinn was down for it, and Kit of House Lannister wants in on it, and Charlie ~ will be dragged into it as well as far as I can tell , so why not tackle this with a poem today? Two birds/one stone, and all that.  How They Run Tracks so narrow; lives almost too wide. Where do we fit it all in? The mysteries of existence are fueled by simple joys. We pack, eager to go to the place unknown to the map-makers and track-layers... loose stones and wooden beams supporting the weight of teenage dreams distributed while moving at high speed. It's amazing that we don't derail, but on the rare occasion we do it's often the best part. The young part. The new part. If you're unsure, maybe you should join the ride. There's never enough time to say "we don't have much time". "How They Run" , from "Also Mutants" I know trains and tracks can mean a lot of different things to a lot of people...and I have a variety of experiences, which made it hard to draw on just one aspect. I wanted to remember being young and carefree...not knowing where we were going but knowing we were gonna enjoy getting there. What's sad about it is we never realize how quickly it goes away, and how it's gone and not easy to get back (if it's even possible). The vibe I had in my head was a bit like "Ahead By A Century" by The Tragically Hip, but I knew there was gonna be almost no way of me fully capturing that in any way close to what they did...that's an epic song on so many levels, and I'm not even gonna try to be on something like that. Not right now at least. This is more my pace ...and it came out around the time I was riding that same trail of dead train travel somewhat often. Also a lot of good memories associated with bangin' this tape in my walkman, stuck in a fannypack affixed to the handlebars of my bike like a car stereo made for two wheels . "Stop That Train" - Beastie Boys"Elevated platform; I'm never gonna conform...riding over the diner where I always get my toast warm. Bust into the conductor's booth and busted out rhymes over the loudspeaker about the hard times." Are you reading this cuz it's a blog? Do you read blogs cuz you write one? Then boy howdy, have I got some news for you! This month over at "The Bard's Hall Contest" , the theme is blogging . If you have a current blog, you can enter. It's that simple. And since I'm using this for the 30DIC and maybe crossing over a little more often with my own "Also Mutants" , that's another bird/same stone. Poor birds...but nobody considers the stone. That stone gets to experience being thrown only so often, yet has to ricochet off so many things. He's probably then gotta land alongside his buddies in the Thrown Stones Union and be like "Well, I was only thrown once but I hit a couple things along the way, so I guess that's ok", until the douchebag flat stone pipes up and says "Yeah, that's great and all, but I was skipped on the beach and the skipper got to 10-Mississippi before I touched down for good" like a snarky, one-upping petty little bitch. Be a stone and not the thrower, but don't be that stone. I think that's all I got for today...I figure I'll ease back in and not overwhelm you or myself. Good to be back though. And thanks for having me. You're all fine people. Peace, party people going places on the D train, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! Congrats to all the recent high school and college grads! |
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But, with extreme shit hitting me I bury under ground and neither internet nor real life can find me then.
