to take anything seriously is to give life the handicap, do not let it know you are weak. --i guess this is a failed email or a meditation on garbage bags... i received it as a piece of spam at an odd hour, so why not share.... enjoy

the ones who truly aspire are those who give up the struggle of the hunt. the lust for discovery. those who never experience the extent of their own understanding. this occult is unintentionally concerned with anything overtly worldly, it harbors a selfishness intent on embracing mediocrity through the blind acceptance of ideals they perceive as too difficult to meditate upon and unusually comfortable enough to arouse suspicion. however, many will refuse to believe that a conscious repression of such base (yet oddly human) impulses leads to a subconscious (or sometimes conscious) manifestation of said function masquerading as inebriation or a sober clarity so seemingly removed from whomever divined the emotions that it must be extraordinaly fantastic.

true moments of inspiration may occur when events outside the mind's realm of understanding lead to bitter self assessment. this sort of scrutiny holds your hand on a tour through a largely negative and unknowingly impulsive state of mind which must be understood for what it is before taken seriously. the demon is born when the spirit is weak, asserting its heaviest influence during the heat of the moment, when the mind is either exhausted, depraved, or despairing. it freely choreographs the present state of mind to perceive all life through a lens at once genuine and passionately bitter. to get lost in the emotions of a single incident in time (to hold your own thoughts in such regard you eventually become defensive of them, and possibly conceal them) is to foolishly, selfishly, and ignorantly render your being as an entity permanent and super-natural in a world that endlessly fails to learn that time inevitably renders us all fools. some are prone to believing this is permanent, unwavering and accurate. (which is more often than not the sad sappy truth) as is usually the case however, the mind fixes such inverse spikes of personal orientation through means hardly recognizable. (satiation from consumption, fornication, rest, expulsion, bouts of harmless mania, and mindless indulgence... in essence, the symbols encountered in everyday life designed to inspire comfort, relief and respite) this all being the result of cancerous, pseudo-communal practices which subconsciously decieve (through half baked media exposure) the populous into understanding that we live in a world of excess. one who does not -have- will/can/and has survived on the sympathy of others.


yo

i guess we didnt finish our conversation or i just feel like talking more.

in terms of whatever it is i have going now, for the interested, it is not easy on the mind but it is not altogether something terrible. all it took was like a half-relationship and a couple nites out at bars to realize how things generally are. id like to say i am beyond those observations and "an exception to the rule" but that would most likely be false.

i guess first of all, over anything anyone has said or will say, i hold the self in the highest regard. i passionately urge myself to believe that when one filters out what is imposed on them by society and focuses on what they quintessentially are they will wake up to this foolish charade we all contribute to. i guess if i establish some base beliefs in something, non-belief maybe, i have some sort of foundation to stand on.

i dont know

i receive testimony from good amount of people who chat recklessly about their situations. as it appears, being in your mid to late twenties in this century, or year is a great burden. as a human, you come to understand certain things about yourself, recognize these things in others, and develop a complex ripe with disillusion.

i was told its impossible to remember everything one knows at a singular moment in time. say, perhaps, you are one of many of lifes great anomalies and you do have this ability. how cursed. every observation, experience and thought you ever had closing in on you and living off you every moment, creating from silly behavior all you do think say and feel. this in mind, why do the masses find peace of mind through eager commitment to emotions which are fundamentally uncertain. parallels exposed regarding life and the strict "grassroots" nature of change are prominent there there and there.

everything is null. is that agnostic? what does that imply. more specifically the stuff above, trash.

home is confusing.

wayne, nj and the house i grew up in might not be "home" for much longer.

grandpa called today. wants me to come visit him before i leave (not that i wouldn't have anyway) and bring along my brother and sister. he's going in for surgery next week for a clogged artery and i'm scared.

started reading Walden. i've never read before. i'd say the timing is good.

home makes me feel like a stranger in my own skin. i look around and see things that i recognize but i don't really see them through the same eyes anymore. it doesn't make me sad but sometimes the fact that it doesn't make me sad makes me sad.

home is confusing.

Goddamnit I just wrote a really long blog entry and accidentally closed Explorer before posting it. In sum: saw the Jealous Sound last night. The night gets an A+ due to their very good but nothing to write home about live show, Toscanini's before the show, an amazing shower after the show, and an amazing shared piece of Dulce di Leche cheesecake in bed before cashing out for the night.

Marissa's gone home for break and I'm still crashing at her place. I'm so lucky to have a place to hang my hat... some of the guys I lived with are sleepin on motel floors and whatnot. Having just started two jobs I don't know what I would've done if I would've had to head back to Jersey all this time.

Apologies for the brevity... but I'm at work... which I'm thinkin' means I should get to work, ya heard?

Silly of me to not mention what started the fire.

The third floor unit of my building was rented out by 12 irish lads for the summer. There are only three bedrooms in the unit and only 5 people allowed on the lease. Our landlord's an idiot for turning a blind eye and these kids are pretty nasty for living on top of each other like they did. At any rate, these guys hung a neon Bud Light sign on their back porch and left it on 24 hours a day. Apparently it sparked, almost instantly igniting flames to a ratty old couch that they had on their porch which then in no time spread flames to the rest of the house like wild fucking fire. No one was injured, which is cool. What's not cool is that these 12 guys were laughing their asses off the whole time the place was up in flames - singing while the firemen were putting the fire down - and bee-lining it to the bar not long after the scene had settled down.

The fire inspector told us that he made his way up to the 3rd floor unit the morning after and found three of the former residents smoking fucking CRACK up there. Eventually I'll post some pictures from ground zero, as we've begun calling it, and when you see the shape of this apartment you'll see that it couldn't be better fit for mo' fuckin' crack-smoking.

It wasn't the way I wanted it to happen.. but I couldn't be happier to be out of mission hill for good. Read back to my rant from a few weeks ago, combine it with this bullshit, and it's probably easy to see why. Living up there has toughened my skin and taught me some good lessons. But it's also taught me that some people should be dis-allowed from pro-creating. I can't wait to get my ass a diploma. Get a fucking job and get to the fucking suburbs. ... or at least a nice neighborhood in the city.

Anyway, things have settled down for now and I'm doing my best to focus on this week's finals. After that it's home to Jersey for a few days of very much needed relaxation.

On a different note, I went to see Freddy Vs. Jason last night with Marissa, Jeannie, and mah nigga Cray-Z Fo' Sheazy. I enjoyed the intentionally kitschy way that the actors conversed and had a pretty decent overall time watching it. I commend the two ladies for coming out with us despite their reservations. I'm pretty sure Marissa spent more time laughing at Freddy's cheesy lines than being scared, which is good because I was worried that she might not quite love me as much after seeing one of my beloved Freddy movies. It looks like I'm in the clear.

Around 9:00 PM on Wed. night I heard a smoke alarm go off in the entranceway to my apartment building. I went out to see what was wrong and noticed that there was a whole lot more than just one smoke alarm going off. Within what seemed like seconds I was about 50 feet away from my building watching the rear burn out of control. The firemen came fairly quick but the flames took quite some time to put down. I'd never wish standing shoeless on the streets of one of the worst neighborhoods in Boston watching your personal belongings being burned or saturated with water or both on anyone. I'd never wish rummaging through your things in total darkness trying to figure out what the fuck is salvageable and what isn't, either. It's a terrible feeling. I managed to get the things of sentimental value out. Pictures, CD's... but so many other things are lying on the floor in my old bedroom behind boarded up doors and windows. I went back to the building today and there was a sign on the door that read "this property has been condemned and deemed not inhabitable for humans".

These past two days have gone by incredibly quickly. I've been speaking with everyone from the red cross to insurance representatives to god knows who the fuck else trying to figure out exactly what in the hell to do.

Some individuals that I thought would've bent over backwards to help me in a time of need have dissapointed me. Others that I would've never considered to have given a rats ass about me have offered more than I am deserving of. It's funny what it takes sometimes, I guess.

Marissa has allowed me to sort of temporarily move in to her place for a few days before I move into my new apartment Sept 1st and I'd llike to publicly thank her for that here, even though she might say that it's not neccessary. I'm sure I've been not much more than a raving lunatic to live with these past few days and her ability to put up with me is more than impressive.

There's some other interesting and often humorous things that have come along with this little situation of mine.. and I'll be sure to let it flow when I get a chance... but for now, I need some rest. --

Quickies:

:: Feedback was down a bit this afternoon... apologies to anyone that felt like backing on the feed tip, I think it's all back up and running.
:: I went out last night nearly until last call and realized this morning that I can no longer hang like I used to. Had to skip my AM class. Ugh.
:: I missed working a BCN promotion at tonight's Radiohead show by about five minutes. Ugh again.
:: Paul ruins EVERYTHING - pass it on.
:: Blogging from work doesn't quite bring back warm fuzzy memories of the day I turned in.circles from a run-of-the-mill e-zine to a sub-par weblog like I thought it would.
:: Every two months or so I come dangerously close to purchasing a 30-gig iPod even though I should be putting my dismal funds towards things like food, rent, and bills. I am in one of those "dangerously close" cycles right now. Someone please convince me that iPod's are shite before I find myself taking out a loan using my first born child as equity.
:: I dare you to find tastier iced coffee than Finnagle-A-Bagel's in the Boston area. I double dare you. --

howdy do, hello.

my name is el nino, and you better get your coat, cause i came to bring the rain.

hoo ah.

--------------------

i saw modest mouse recently, and was largely disappointed. many things went wrong, too numerous and boring to list, but they are going south further than katherine hepburn, barry white and bob hope. philly is a trash hole, whole heartedly.

i watched eyes wide shut the other day. collectively i have prolly seen it all like 1 and a half times, but this was the first time i watched it (semi) straight through the whole thing. its just like that, you lumber through it. and dont let me forget about the book im reading, speaking of lumbering through. shits tight, A+. ive talked to some folks who have also seen it, and they largely disagree. which i find confusing, cause it seems spot on. things i like: colors, glares, bleeds, nicole kidman. i like how london is portrayed as new york. i like that. why use the city in a piece of fiction as the city setting. you are at your whim to whit and whistle with whatever woozle you troozle. kudos. i like the music, i like the length, and i like the content. i like the passion, i like the jealousy, i like the way people have disturbingly vivid perceptions of human nature, choose to render them to the public, and when all is said and done its like flat and poo, but really bas relief. you f'n c's.

ah, umberto eco. im partially through this book, foucalt's pendulum, and its really fun. like too fun where you have to question why it is so fun. then you deconstruct the thing you think is fun and try to find a flaw, convince yourself of the other sides point of view. apply as much passion to hating it as you did to liking it, and do that with everything, see how much of a fool people can be. id say the book has opened my eyes, turned me into a harder cynic, but then again im just reading words on a page, ya know. what can you do with that. its the inconceivable stuff you gotta worry about. i really wanna talk more about the book ya know, but i havent finished it. all i can really say is jacques de molay. i wish someone would submit me some hardcore research on this guy. there is other stuff too, aleister crowley + napthalene + kundalini... all nonsense if you think about it, but fun nonetheless...

I waited so long for summer-like weather and now that it's here I want it to go fuck itself - figuratively, of course... weather couldn't actually go fuck itself now, could it? Seriously, though, what good is summer if there's no goddamned sun?

Despite the thick-as-Arnold's-biceps (ahem) humidity in Boston these past few days I've been enjoying my life. I started new job #1 of 2 on Friday, for WBCN. It doesn't pay a whole lot, but it's fun. New job #2 of 2 starts tomorrow although It's not exactly 100% new. It's actually for the same company that I had my first co-op at three years ago. Only this time out they're paying me a whole lot more than they used to. I think that means I actually have to work now instead of talking to Jimmy on AIM. Sigh.

Aside from work stuff I've been enjoyably spending my time with Marissa, my roommates, and doing little bits of school work. I don't think anything from this past weekend is terribly blog-worthy. I also can't remember a time when I've been so happy with everything. Maybe there's some sort of connection?

Patyankee1 still continues to IM me at the strangest times. Jimmy thinks he's ten years old. Jimmy thinks I'm an asshole.

Remember: humidity, WBCN, bigger paycheck means having to work more, happiness isn't blogworthy, Patyankee1, and Jimmy. (ok, it made me laugh on the lawrence arms site so I figured i'd try it here...) --

Maybe it's just because I'm way over-tired... but the following AIM conversation I'm about to post made me laugh so hard that my stomach started to hurt. I guess it's kinda lame that I can amuse myself that much, but whatever. At any rate... why the fuck do people feel the need to randomly IM me all the time? I left the screen name up there because I didn't feel like changing it. Enjoy...

Patyankee1 (8:16:39 PM): hi
me: (8:16:43 PM): ?
me: (8:16:47 PM): who's this?
Patyankee1 (8:16:57 PM): Patrick
me: (8:17:03 PM): eh?
Patyankee1 (8:17:22 PM): wats
me: (8:17:38 PM): i'm sorry man... i'm drawing a blank here
me: (8:18:11 PM): a little help maybe?
Patyankee1 (8:18:43 PM): yes
me: (8:19:00 PM): ... right
Patyankee1 (8:19:20 PM): no
Patyankee1 (8:19:31 PM): wats is your name
me: (8:19:40 PM): great. well, this has been amazing. and not to sound like a prick.. but what the fuck do you want?
Patyankee1 (8:19:42 PM): and last name
me: (8:20:17 PM): my first name is fuck. my last name is off. my middle name is i don't have time for this shit.
Patyankee1 (8:20:58 PM): fuck you
me: (8:21:54 PM): super
me: (8:21:58 PM): is there a point to all this?
Patyankee1 (8:22:18 PM): no
me: (8:22:27 PM): ok then thanks bye.
Patyankee1 (8:22:35 PM): fuck you !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
me: (8:22:51 PM): dude, who are you and what do you want?
Patyankee1 (8:25:36 PM): fuck you
Patyankee1 signed off at 8:25:36 PM.
Patyankee1 signed on at 8:25:55 PM.
me: (8:26:08 PM): you used boldface. that was impressive
Patyankee1 (8:26:17 PM): wats
me: (8:26:44 PM): oh i get it now... wats... as in wats it take to be a total fucking homo?
Patyankee1 (8:27:01 PM): yes
me: (8:27:06 PM): that's awesome
Patyankee1 signed off at 8:27:17 PM.

CA out. --

i started playing ikaruga also. one of the better games i have played recently. we chatted bout the explosion when you kill the boss on the first level. i think its cool cause it brings the system to its knees rendering this detailed fireball. fun stuff. ill update at more frequency in a bit. just want to ping one off.

In the spring of 1999 I graduated high school. My band broke up because three out of four of us were going to college. Due to the whacky schedule at my school I had a whole lot more summer to work with than everyone else I had graduated with. I spent my extra time that summer making music with a dear friend of mine named Josh, who had also been the drummer in my band. We wrote 10 new songs and recorded 12 over the course of July, August, and September. One of the extra two being a re-recording of one of our bands' old songs and the other one being a cover of Adam Sandler's 'I Wanna Grow Old With You', of all things. I was 18 and Josh was 15. Bands like Saves The Day, Bouncing Souls, and Lanemeyer were making New Jersey the pop-punk capital of the world (at least our little world - fuck everything that's ever come out of that hell-hole we call California) and we were loving every minute of it. At any rate... I get nostalgiac once in awhile when I have too much time on my hands and like to go back and listen to some of this stuff. Not many people have ever heard it and I figure at least a few of the songs deserve to be heard. Before you download this track (one of the ones Josh sang on), please remember... we were young. And stupid. We barely knew how to play our instruments nevermind work the second hand 4-track recorder I had purchased. However, we were having a fucking blast and I hope it shows.

If I Were James - Don't Belong
(right mouse click and select 'save as')

Please leave some feedback to this post. Let me know if you'd like me to upload some more of this stuff or just keep it to myself. Thanks. --

I hate living on mission hill. The following AIM conversation I had with Imri a few minutes ago should hopefully be enough to describe why:

imri: how was the party last nite?
chris: well...
chris: i made some kid bleed
imri: what?
chris: and also locked my keys in my bedroom and had to kick my door in
imri: awesome
chris: hehe
imri: d'you have to bounce some people out of there?
chris: well, some fuckin' local ghetto scumbag kept kicking the door to the bathroom and flipping the light switch on and off while someone else was in there. it annoyed me a little bit bit i thought it was just one of his friends in there or something...
chris: then my girlfriend and her friend walk out... which made me a little pissed
imri: hah yeah
chris: so then he unzips his fly... says "i gotta get my dick out" and lunges himself into them...
imri: oh shit
chris: at that point i threw the girls out of the way and took the bathroom door and tried to fucking cut him in half with it by slamming it on him
imri: that's fucked up
chris: but he kinda got out of the way but it caught the skin on his arm and he started bleeding, he was fucking huge. i pretty much thought i was going to die
imri: hahaha
chris: but then my thug roommate came over and escorted the kid out
imri: nice
chris: the weirdest part is that he was still there later and like... flexing and shit. it was the most absurd thing i've ever seen
chris: i fucking hate living in the ghetto
imri: so weird that he was flexing
chris: yeah... and like, rolling up his sleeves and stuff to show us his arms
imri: like yo that cut aint shit, i can still do this

There's too many people in this world that don't know how to respect themselves or other people. I used to be tolerant. I used to feel bad for them but sometimes you can only take so much. My house was robbed last weekend. The fuckers came in through the front door with a crow bar. I almost got mugged last night before the party and was about two seconds away from getting killed in my own house at the party. I can't wait to move out of this neighborhood. I hope these fucking swine eat each other alive here once I'm gone. I hope they have children and they rob and kill and fuck each other just the same. I hope the cycle never ends until they wipe themselves out completely.

One day I'll be sitting in my house laughing about how I used to live in this place and had to deal with this shit. They'll still be here sitting on my goddamn porch (uninvited) begging for fucking change.

I've found myself with a pretty hefty amount of free time lately. Although there's still three weeks of classes left in my summer quarter, I've completed all of the work already for two of them. The other two aren't the easiest... and the thought of the finals for them scares the living shit out of me. However, they don't require much more work than showing up to class and occasionally hitting the library maybe once a week to whip up a short assignment. I'm sure for most people free time isn't a problem. In fact, i'm sure it's welcome. But since nothing can ever be easy for me, I'm having trouble figuring out just what in the hell to do with it. I've been playing a lot of guitar. Checkin out Ikaruga. But mostly these are just glorified ways of sitting on my ass. It's making me feel lazy and a bit useless, even though I've just recently started up my daily gym routine again. Speaking of useless, I'll stop writing now. --

We're still having trouble adding Jimmy to the blog. And Paul's dead, I heard. Although I wouldn't know. Granted, they probably don't know whether I'm alive or not either, considering that I was in Jersey for the weekend and failed to meet up with them. I was actually at home for a grand total of 20 minutes not counting sleeping gents - I do hope you'll forgive me.

Speaking of Paul, I purchased Ikaruga for the Gamecube solely based on his recommendation. Actually, it wasn't much of a recommendation at all. He said "Ikaruga - REZ for the Gamecube." That folks, was all I needed to hear. I really do hope that Paul actually is alive, because maybe we could play two player or something. That'd be h-o capitalized double tizzy.

I've listened to the new Riverdales album about 500 times today. Granted it's only about 23 minutes long - but that's still a relatively large amount of spins, I'd say. Take the golden oldies feel of the first record, combine it with the drive of 'Storm the Streets', throw in some Ramones-like spookiness to the vocals, and you've got 'Phase Three'. I'm impressed. I'm hooked. But I guess that's what happens after you spend two years listening to stuff like The Microphones, Notwist, etc. A good pop record tends to jump out at you amongst all of that artsy shtuff.

I work on the yearbook staff here at Northeastern and I just completed inserting images from June's graduation ceremony. One of the images was of Brian Wilson receiving his honorary degree and he looks stoned out of his fucking mind. --

New Hey Mercedes MP3 at heymercedes.com and also a new Riverdales MP3 at 145records.com posted today. Sorry I'm not providing the direct linkage, I'm all about being on the lazy tip right now. I f-ing love those sweet sounding Hey Mercedes guitar leads for sure. Combined with that kinda-sounds-like-the-first-Riverdales-album-but-better-sound of Last Stop Tokyo these two tunes have certainly put a smile on my face on this rainy tuesday.

I'd like to quickly say fuck you to Newbury Comics for not carrying the new Riverdales album on its release date. I was late to class and walked in the humid rain without an umbrella just to come home today empty handed.

Tomorrow I rock the dermatologist to find out about this cancerous looking thing on my leg. Marissa's coming with me, which is super sweet of her. I'll let you'll know when I do. --

weird, i had a dream monday nite that was crazy... and i dont dream - spooky, am i rite?

Last night I dreamt that I was driving around north Jersey by myself in a beat up car. It was very woodsy - West Milford / Vernon-esque - and very dark. I made a pit stop at an asian supermarket. There were about 15 - 20 asian children in the parking lot setting off fireworks. I reached into my backseat and grabbed a few balloons that were there for one reason or another. I threw the balloons into the parking lot and the children threw fireworks at them. The balloons popped. I was sad that my balloons were gone so I left the asian supermarket. I took off down a dark road and noticed that I was being tailed by a cop. I sped up and at the first intersection cut the wheel hard to the right and screeched down a different road. The cops lights went on and he proceeded to chase me around a suburban neighborhood for awhile. I grew bored of being chased so I took off down a secret path to rest. When I felt it was safe I left the hideout and went searching for the house I wanted to live in when I was older. I found it and parked outside. I lit a cigarette and smiled at the thought of me being inside someday and making the windows visibly illuminated from the outside by my own hands. I wanted to call Marissa to talk to her about it but I couldn't find my phone. Then I woke up.

I guess compared to that the fact that I broke a sterling silver belt buckle in half this morning while putting on my pants and found out that I could possibly have mela-noma (skin cancer) on my leg isn't really that strange at all.

New Riverdales album tomorrow. --

The movie stars Bill Murray and the soundtrack is being done by Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine? I don't know a damn thing other than that about 'Lost in Translation' but you can certainly sign me up for a pre-order ticket!

Now that everyone's using synthesizers to death again is it time for the cyclical nostalgia machine to start up a pop-punk revival? I don't know, I guess I'll leave that up to you to decide. At this rate... I predict a huge economic boom starting late this year, lasting approximately for 4-5 years, followed by a minor recession, a war lead by President Jeb Bush, and then the mainstream popularity of a form of music that the kids call emo. And also cell phones. Fucking cell phones everywhere.

I'm just trying to get ahead of the curve here, ya know. Stay hip and whatnot.

I'm going to be heading to Naragansett (no idea how to spell) RI this weekend with my roommate, the lady friend, and an as of yet unkown cast of other characters. The weather outlook for the northeast isn't so hot for the weekend, but I'm excited regardless. Although my month back in Boston has been amazing, it's always nice to see the ocean in the summer.

Also, Karaoke tonight. --

I guess I should preface this with mentioning that I always had my doubts about 'punk rock'. Maybe it was insecurity because I never really 'got it'. I always liked pop-punk - that was fun. Rebellious enough for me, I guess. I never really was that rebellious, I suppose. I don't know what this says about punk rock. Christ, it might say that I know absolutely nothing about it more than anything at all... but in reading this article that was posted a few weeks ago I'd say that Rancid has struck out in the punk rock corner:

Strike 1: Signing to Warner.
Strike 2: New single features a song by some guy in that Good Charlotte band. This is perhaps the most disturbing.
Strike 3: Tim Armstrong in some band with the drummer of Blink 182?

As far as the new album goes.. I'm relatively unimpressed after a listen or two. The second self-titled one that they put out in 2000 was pretty bad-ass, if I remember correctly. And I remember digging that Let's Go one when I was like 15. Yeah. --