Sunday, April 20, 2008


If I formed a band, I'd want people to describe it as "Imagine an electrical fire being being put out by an old boxer, but the extinguisher is filled with pig's blood." These people would have never met each other, that would be the thought that occurred to them individually.

At least one album review would have to contain the line "...the sound of a couple breaking up in a pile of bones and mice."

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Response Track

This started as a response to Steve's last blog post ( title: "objects downstream propagate upstream").

Looking back on old writing, especially from when you were younger, just sucks. Buried on my old angelfire site is something called "discollection" which is essentially this big pile of shit that I amassed over a long period of time. It's complete garbage, and it's completely embarrassing. I keep it up though, I don't know why. I think it's a reminder to myself: don't ever, ever suck that bad again.

However, it's where I came from and I wouldn't be here without having been there. In that respect, on my computer I have my short stories in two major folders. They're titled "When I was a worm" and "Now I got my wings". Aside from being a really outdated Manson quote, they serve as a way to hold onto my past, while also knowing that it's in an entirely different category than what I do now.

As far as writing for your peers and heroes, I feel exactly the same way, to the word. On the one hand I miss the pure feeling of being thirteen and writing only for me; on the other hand, my peers and heroes are my peers and heroes because of their quality, and holding myself up to them isn't such a bad idea.

Dealing with confidence in art is a bitch. The reason we're doing it in the first place owes to some defect in our programming, and yet we have to get past those very defects to express them. Sometimes I think I have some kind of ability and talent, and then I go back and read and say "God, this was way better when it was all in my head."

I'm coming to the point where I want to share what I'm writing right now with someone for feedback, but I'm scared I'll lose momentum, or I'm scared that the beginning parts were written so long ago that they need to be redone before anyone sees them. And to, say, omit that beginning stuff for review, would mean the rest of the story wouldn't make sense. It's gonna be a long time before the whole thing is done, and I don't know if I can wait that long.

Delayed gratification is the worst part of creation. And it's not art until someone sees it.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

In Robbery

His head lay on the ground,
His house unwatched
The strain filling his eyes up to burst

The leaves killed each other,
One by one
Just to cover him up