Ancora Imparo

I turn to my side and open my eyes slowly as the daylight seeps in through the cracks of the room's blinds. Half asleep, I pace my way to the kitchen to make myself breakfast. I cut the onions, peppers, and cilantro, scramble the eggs, and cook the chorizo for something on-the-go. I'm already late enough as it is.

Outside, I run a block past my temporary apartment to West Cliff and look at the Pacific in all of its majesty. The seagulls are crowded around the reef in gossip. As the wind scalps the white off of these waves, a seagull skims by the surf and catches a fish in its mouth, flying west towards the shore. I walk down to the water and catch seaweed in between my toes. I find a cozy spot on the reef and start leafing through my book, when I spot a couple walking a long the shore. I can't help but feel jealous.

Its almost 4 in the afternoon, and I am getting coffee and lunch downtown. After my meal, I refill my drink and get a to-go box for my leftovers. It doesn't take very long for me to find someone less fortunate than myself to give my food too. After making brief conversation, she asks what I'm listening to on my iPod.

"The Smiths. I've been really getting into them lately. Morrissey and Johnny Mar are amazing."

"Yeah?! I LOVE the Smiths! Met them awhile back, really nice guys. Don't believe the newspapers, they are all homosexuals."

I get back to the apartment around 8 in the afternoon and get some more reading done. I check my phone and have no missed calls from my mom or dad, and all of a sudden I am really depressed. 

Do you ever wonder what would happen if you died today? What if you got caught in the ocean's undertow and get swept off into the Pacific? Or what if you meet the headlights of a drunk driver tonight? Do you ever wonder who would come to your funeral? I think of this all the time, not because I am a depressive person or that I'm fascinated with death, but because I believe this is the true measure of how much of an impact you have made in the world. I believe that if I were to die today, I would have a lot of people attend my funeral. However, what hurts so much is knowing that not one person in the crowd would love me. I have a ton of people's friendships and a lot of people's respect, but I would trade that in for a handful of people who actually had love for me.

This holiday season, if you don't get a brand new car or that fucking North Face jacket that you wanted, most of you should still be thankful because you have a HOME to go home to where people welcome you in with loving arms. I have a place to live, but I still can relate to the dozens of people that sleep on Pacific Street in Santa Cruz: I have nowhere to call a home. 

Its close to 10 at night, and I am cooking dinner for my imaginary family. Afterwards, I put in a movie and make room next to me for my imaginary brother to set in next to me. Its getting late, so after a while I clean the dishes and head off to bed. Still, I'm really happy: ANCORA IMPARO. When I have the opportunity to be a husband and a father, I'm gonna make sure my unborn sons and daughters don't EVER have to spend the holidays by themselves.

hmmmmmmmm

Why do so many people think cockiness is such a sin??? Personally, I think its more sinful to be humble to people, especially when you don't really mean it. Its better to tell someone that you are better than them as opposed to making them think that they are on the same level as you. Where I come from, cockiness isn't boastful but is just self-realization/self-pride.

I'm a perfectionist, and that throws a lot of people off. I don't get a kick out of being the best, I think its just that I raised the bar to the highest it could go and want to always reach or exceed it. If I'm not the best now at something, give me a week or two and I will be. We are not the same. 

Last year, at the beginning of fall quarter, I had a hate crime/bias incident happen to one of my residents. It was definitely an eye opener for a lot of my residents and members in my community. I distinctly remember one of my residents coming up to me the next day and asking, "I thought UC Santa Cruz was a really liberal and progressive school....do things like last night happen around here a lot?"

Unfortunately, they do, and they happen a lot more frequently than people would expect. Few people know about all of the hate messages left in dorm bathroom stalls, or about how the College Republicans at UCSC held an "Illegal Immigrant Dodgeball" game at OPERS a year ago....more so, many people (on our campus) cannot relate to the everyday struggles and obstacles that ethnic/sexual/gender/class/religious/able minorities face on a day-to-day basis in a university setting. 

A perfect example would be my own experience's today.

This quarter, I was in enrolled in a certain upper-division economics class where the professor was extremely ignorant. He would make complete off-the-wall comments during his lectures, such as going up to a random Filipino student during the middle of lecture and asking him, "Hey, are you from San Francisco?" Throughout the class, we had a handful of exams (midterms and quizzes). I would always sit in class next to one of my friends, who so happens to be black. Although I am half white and half Filipino, alot of people confuse me with being latino. The class demographic is nearly 95% white or asian.

Now that the setting is established, let me highlight why my professor is an asshole and has racially profiled myself and my friend: EVERY exam, whether it be a midterm or quiz, he stares directly at both of us in a way and length that would make anyone really uncomfortable. During our midterms, he would literally walk into the aisle right next to us and stay for long periods of time (approx. 3-5 minutes) and then walk back to his seat in the front of the class to read. Once, during our first midterm, he specifically pulled my friend out of the aisle to go over his notes and make sure they were "legal" (the exams in the class are all open note). 

Today, we had our final exam, and both myself and my friend, as usual, were sitting next to each other. Both of us are working hard until, 30 minutes into the exam, the professor walks up to us, snaps his fingers, points and me, and points for me to sit on the other side of the class. 

Midway through the exam, when most of the students have left, I walked back into the classroom to talk about what happened. I went up to my professor and asked him, "Excuse me, but is there any real reason why you moved me to the other side of the class during our exam?". He then asked for my name, and I told him that I wouldn't feel safe giving him my name because I feel that he biased towards me and would mark down my score on the exam. He then seemed a little pissed off and was very reluctant to talk to me anymore.

Some may think I am overanalyzing this or that I am "making a mountain out of a mole hill"...this is straight up bullshit, since (1) There are 127 students in this class, (2) Of the 127 students, I would estimate that 14-18 would not identify as white or asian, (3) seeing how my friend is the only black male in the class and I am one of 6-7 brown males in the class, the odds of my professor singling us out on one occasion is extremely low, (4) the odds of my professor singling both of us out on MULTIPLE occasions is even lower, (5) there is no reason to suspect myself and my friend of cheating; both of our tests always have semi-drastically different scores, we both have a full set of notes that we use during the test, and we both keep our eyes on our papers, especially compared to other students in the class, and (6) my professor wouldn't tell me his reasons for switching my seat during the final.

These are things that happen on a day-to-day basis at UC Santa Cruz, one of the most liberal, progressive universities in the world. Imagine the things that go on in other university settings! Its really important for students in university settings, whether a minority, ally, or a decent human being, to become educated and have the balls to stand up to shit like what happened today. I had other shit to do, but I waited 30 minutes in the cold so I could chew my professor out and give him a piece of my mind. If shit like this, no matter how trivial it is, goes unopposed, the cycle of oppression is just going to keep going round n' round.

Worst comes to worst, he will never guess my name, since I have the least minority-sounding name in the history of the world.

Fairfield is colder than the fucking ICE AGE

I think people critique the present too much and discount a lot of our generation's achievements, especially in the arts. Our generation is innovative, its just that most people are looking in the wrong directions. 100 years from now, when my generation goes extinct from heartbreak, war, cancer, and poverty, people are going to be amazed at our works of art.

Aristotle was transcribed on tablets. Van Gogh was paint on a canvas. Shakespeare was on the stage of The Globe on the south bank of the Thames. 

You can find our greatest poets/philosophers/theorists' works on any public bathroom stall. Go ahead and test it out for yourself. Somewhere in the back of a Scotts Valley diner, "Time is a pancake" is scribbled right above a urinal. How much more deep and profound can you get?

My life is a wreck right now, but I am amazing at working under pressure and under stress. It feels like I've set sail across the Atlantic, but I don't have Poseidon's approval or blessings.

I have a lot to be thankful for, though. My parents and ex double teamed me and made me go help serve thanksgiving dinner to the less fortunate in Fairfield, and it definitely made me realize a few things. There are 6,602,224,175 people in the world right now, and I am definitely better off than a lot of them. In generally, 6,602,224,174 of us have something to be thankful for: there is someone in the world who is more miserable than you.

Something I am not thankful for: Black Friday. Consumerism at its worst. If you want to get me something for the holidays, come over and watch a movie with me. I have everything I could want right now, except a job and someone I can give myself to.

"I died for you one time, but never again"

This is me with a healthy (fake)  smile. I'm perfecting it to use on you.

In a matter of 4 weeks, my life has become streamlined into a process, and the predictability of my days are killing me. Every morning is the same story.

The same, lonely fucking bed. I love you so much, but I hate you more than ever.

The same, lonely fucking shower. I love you so much, and I hate you a little less than my bed.

The process is this:

AWAKE:SHOWER:DRESS:WALK:CLASS:EAT:WORKOUT:MEETINGS:EAT:MEETINGS:

STUDY:READ:SLEEP

Every little thing is automated. My cup of coffee is the same cup of coffee I had 24 hours ago, or 24 weeks ago: 3/4 cup of coffee, 1 packet of sugar, 3 tbsps of french vanilla cream. If its 2 tbsps of cream or 2 packets of sugar, its a big issue. 

I choreograph my sex like binary codes. Its just a stream of 0's and 1's. Up and down. Left and right.

A few months ago, Brian and I went downtown and had our cards read by someone on the street. I was skeptical at first, but the first card the person withdrew for Brian was "the sloth". After this, I knew that they were accurate.

The man told me to start letting go of things so I could live a little better. There are definitely things I am going to start letting go of, but I want to take things in as well. I want someone/something to break my automations and show we what the 4th dimension really looks like, or help me discover a new color, or maybe even a new continent or two. 

Am I just really demanding?

I've been waiting for the rain to stop, but it just won't let up. I haven't felt sun on my skin for centuries....even the flowers bloom with black and gray petals.

If my train derailed between Oakland and Martinez and I died tonight, how long would you wait for me at the Amtrak Station? I'd give you 15 minutes, tops.

Still, I am seriously infatuated with someone at this moment. For once I really am serious. 

Its not because I made it out of the train alive, either, and I swear there were ALOT of obstacles that were in between me coming back to Suisun. It wasn't just the bumpy ride; these fucking cambodian kids were singing Queen covers from Hayward all the way to my stop, and it was horrible. But I am here, regardless, so lets make the best out of my weekend, alright?

We Looked Good, Side By Side, Walking Back To The Hotel

This is a picture of me studying for tax class at 4 in the morning about 5 days ago. I am in a lot of pain and misery, tax class is horrible

Fast forward 5 days later, the times they are a'changin. 

Its about 6:30 in the morning right now, and I am madly in love...with economics, of course. I might sound really nerdy, but I really do LOVE my major. I think a lot of people go to universities just to make sure they are going to grow fat and old and rich. I'm basically in my major because I have the time of my life studying indifference curves, isoquants/isocosts, and production functions. There may come a time in your life when you are gonna need to find a way to minimize your production costs. Call me up, I'll tell you how much labor and capital to use and my consultation is free, since we are friends and all.

I am actually going back to visit the parentals this weekend...its gonna be the first time in a really long time. Its all business, though, I need to get hella shit from my house. I've been jamming a lot with a friend that has a drumset but mediocre cymbals and a single bass pedal, so I'm bringing up my zildjian cymbal set (16" A-Custom crash, 18" Z-Custom crash, 20" A-Custom ride, 14" Z-Custom hi-hats, 8 and 10" A splashes, 18" A-Custom China) and my Tama Iron Cobra. Shit is gonna be sick when its all set up.

I'm also going to be visiting her on Saturday. I really, really hope I don't fuck anything up or do anything stupid. Then again, that seems to be my specialty nowadays...

And before I forget: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HELPED SUPPORT SIGMA LAMBDA BETA YESTERDAY BY PURCHASING KRISPY KREME DONUTS FROM ME!!! I REALLY APPRECIATE IT, ESP. MY FLOOR.

and if you're unhappy still i will be hanging on your line should you return

I have a SHITLOAD of interviews this work for auditing firms. If this doesn't work out, I'm dropping out of the university and playing music for the rest of my life.

Fuck the outcome, I want income.

I've been watching movies by myself all week long. The cons of being single are weighing me down, but its whatever. I'm such a great guy that sometimes I can make my own jokes and laugh for hours just thinking about how crazy my train of thought is. 

Lately I've been listening to a lot of dancy stuff. My residents are really into that shit, and its kind of influencing me since I came into this school year in a straight up August Burns Red/Norma Jean mentality. Also been listening to the white album a lot, its such a fucking masterpiece.

EVERYONE NEEDS TO BUY THE NEW COPELAND ALBUM!

A Tattoo On Her Chromosomes

Its 4 o'clock in the afternoon on a warm summer day in the country. This all seems too familiar...I am walking in a hayfield with the beautiful girl that visits me when im deep asleep...the one with the caramel skin and fierce eyes. I can't help but fall in love with everything around me. To my left I see dragonflies speeding off through the thick air, effortlessly dodging wisps of dandelions as they speed off to war. To my right I see an abandoned watermill resting on a creekside; it is made of stone, with moss creeping through its pores. 

This has to be too good to be true. Really.

As we walk side by side, she whispers something in spanish. Even though I don't understand it, it sounds so beautiful. She laughs, pinches me my arm and says just above a whisper, "Lets take the long way home." I simply smile and nod my head. The sky is turning a neon green, we have plenty of time before the sun goes down.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYoUfs935dI

Call me Master Shredder.

Bent Light

I woke up a few minutes ago and  was at the bottom of the ocean. Everything was illuminated, and there was nowhere else to go but south.  So I mounted my seahorse and traveled what seemed like days until I came across a graveyard of whales. Without even thinking, I pulled out my notebook and started calculating how much they owed Poseidon in death taxes. They are gonna have to pay through the teeth.

And then I realized that I need to find a way to change the world. Anyone can raise a family, it takes a lot more to raise a revolution.

My Eyes Are Fighting Off Sleep Like Levies Hold Off The Flood

First and foremost, my laptop blew up and I have a Macbook. Crazy shit.

Second, my Tax class is really awkward. Its like watching an episode of The Office, but my professor is Michael Scott and its in real life. 

I'm really loving my floor this year. All of the people who I am living with are amazing, and I'm already getting really good vibes.

*On a side note: my hair is almost back to normal.

I woke up this morning to her screaming in my ear from the other end of the telephone line. Its a nasty divorce.

I was at the Red a few days ago and met the craziest people ever. I met some dude who has the exact same music tastes as me and composes. He had some CUTE ASS friends, but I'm more interested in jamming with him. I know I talk and kid around a lot about women, but in all honesty I am going to try and take a serious stand on being single this year unless someone sweeps me off my feet.

The other day, at diversity training, we did an exercise when the person leading the session would name off statements, and if you matched the statement you would stand up in silence. He would name off statements such as "I identify as African American", or "At one point in my life I tried to commit suicide". I feel this year I was a lot more open with myself to our group, which (to me) shows a lot of growth. Its weird, because the exercise opened up a lot more. I feel like I need to express myself a lot more, because I wanted him to say certain statements, like "The only person I really have feelings for is taken, but I don't have the courage or lack of morals to do shit about it", or "I am frustrated with university students' lack of efficacy and respect towards social justice issues", or "My passion is music, but that road is too small, too narrow, and just too dangerous, so I chose college".


But I guess that is what this blog is for. This was originally intended for me to write notes about the music I've been composing, but its changed drastically. And now my head hurts, I think I'll go run to the corner store and buy some aspirin now.

Untitled

I've moved from houses to houses so many times that I don't have a home. I'm a nomad, which basically means I'm immune to home sickness.

On a side note, it feels great to be back on the Pacific Coast.

I Can Hear My Train Coming....Looks Like Time Is Not On My Side

Just get to the point.



The last few days have been rough. I'm leaving, again, tomorrow to start a new chapter of my life...even though its the same book, a lot of my favorite characters are getting left out. Sometimes I feel really nomadic...this Summer, I've slept in 9 different beds (I actually keep track) and never had the same one for more than a month.

The dentists are telling me to stop grinding my teeth from all my stress. I don't have any gray hairs, but sometimes it feels like I'm wearing silver hairs and my teeth are falling out. This is what Fairfield does to me.

...but I'm moving back to my home right next to the Pacific. I can't help but feel excited, even though she isn't coming. I had a beautiful view of the marina for most of the summer, and I'm trading it in for a college dormitory quad. Bad deal.




Please keep your promise, you know I'm keeping my end of the bargain.

This Was Inevitable (hahaha...)

This is an open ended letter to all parents that give their toddlers and elementary school children mohawks: CUT THE SHIT OUT. You are slowly turning the mohawk into another novelty, just like the billion Che Guevara shirts that float around Middle-Class American's closets who don't know who the fuck he is or what the fuck he did.

Whats happening here is you are taking something that means a lot to people and that is sacred and butchering it up, turning it into another fad that's just gonna get thrown out and looked down on in 2-3 years. The argument here is not that children can't be "punk rock"....I personally believe that the mohawk isn't genre specific: its a social statement that transcends rock and hip-hop. When people USED to get mohawks, they didn't shave hair off their heads....it was like shaving off fleece, and letting the world know that you aren't another fucking sheep in society's flock. But what does an 8-year-old child know about a crooked society, and what does he/she have to throw up his/her middle finger against?


Bed times? Getting grounded for bad grades? Not being able to climb up the slide at recess? Eating vegetables?


This reminds me of the time when I saw some kids in downtown Santa Cruz with X's over their hands and a bandana across their neck while smoking a cigarette.

I have never had a mohawk and (to be brutally honest) can't relate, but I still have respect for the scene and the people, and feel that this is something that needs to be preserved. Oh, and I apologize if you or your little brother are sheep, too, and have mohawks for no reason...didn't mean to come off as an asshole. Don't start a war with me, go listen to Refused's "The Shape Of Punk To Come" and lets get coffee sometime. Or we can hit the bars...I dont have X's on my hands...

Planes And Satellites Littered The Sky

Rewind to December 28th, 2007. 2:13 AM


This has to be one of the stupidest fucking things I've ever done in my life.

Its a little past midnight in Santa Cruz, California. I'm bored shitless in my room, so I put on warm clothes, grab a cigarette, and head off to the woods behind the ILC....people have been telling me about a Cat Cemetery somewhere in Upper Campus, and I'm feeling adventurous.


Half an hour later, the moths are gathering around my flashlight like children huddling around a camp fire. I'll be the first to admit that I was never good with directions, but tonight I am just completely off: I must have taken 6 or 7 wrong turns, and now I am starting to get really paranoid.



The plot thickens.


After the 7th or 8th wrong turn, I stumble across a dead deer. After examining closer, I notice that it's rib cage is ripped out through its chest, and it's entrails are mixed across the ground with mud and wet leaves. Its the darkest red imaginable, with blotches of yellow and white chunks decorating on occasion. I see flies, worms, and maggots coming out of the dead deer's jaw, hurrying about as if they were late to work. The remainders of it's family is just a few feet away.




The wind is furious tonight; as he screams his crooked notes from the top of his lungs, trees the size of skyscrapers are taking a knee and bowing their heads. My hands are turning pink. My toes are going numb. And suddenly...



!!!




I hear a moan. I hear crying. I hear a car crash on graduation night. I hear the sirens and ambulances speeding past me. I hear the door close and lock, and the sick and frightening things that follow. I hear steel clash with steel, and a single bomb drop from the Enola Gay sometime in 1945. I hear doctors telling them that there is no cure. I hear all the children in the world being told they are going to go to hell when they die. I hear the end of the world crashing down on December 28th, 2007, and the epicenter is in Santa Cruz, California. What are the odds?


I throw my cautions to the wind, but my greatest fears grow wings and take flight before my very eyes. I turn to start running as fast as I can. I cheated Death many times in my life, but Fate pays me back with a vengeance: my flashlight burns out, and I'm forced to throw it behind me. I'm putting all of my faith into the stars and the moon to give me enough light to find my way back to campus, but they are just as unreliable as the flashlight: I've mistaken the stars and the moon for airplanes and satellites, and they are moving in the opposite direction.




I trip on a branch and fall on my knee. I cover my ears, and turn around to see pitch black.






Fast Forward to August 24th, 2008 . 6:27 PM

I wake up from a nap, and I'm sweating all over. My hands are sore from gripping my sheets too tightly. Its that same nightmare. The one that plays in my head, over and over and over and over and over....


I get a glass of water, take an aspirin, and put ice on my right knee.

I'll Hold The Sun To Keep You Warm

Wherever I go, please don't forget my name. Its the only thing I can never lose, and I've worked long and hard to keep a good image associated with it. I'll be gone for a long time, and I don't plan on visiting this goddamn town again in the near future. Nothing personal, just bad memories. You were great to me, and I will never forget that. You became family...you celebrated Christmas with me in the middle of Summer because I celebrated Christmas in the waiting room of a Dental Office. You gave me inspiration to write two of the most beautiful songs I've ever written. I swear, I'll miss your warm smile...you believe me, don't you?

Moving On A Track Of Neverending White Light

During last winter, an acquaintance that I would never speak to again gave me a present before he left my life. It was Dr. Jeckyl And Mr Hyde. He gave this to me because he said I have split personalities. It wasn't meant to piss me off, really, just a way to remember our "acquaintance-ship". I stumbed on this book today when packing and realized something that I guess I've been overlooking:



My life is morphing into a sick and twisted dichotomy, but everything is fine. Trust me on that.



For example, the pinnacle of my summer was going to a bar and then going ____ __ __ _____ __ ____ ___ ____ ___ __ _ ____ __-______ (gonna keep this rated G, ya feel me..), and the other is teaching the solo to "Old Love" by Eric Clapton to one of my more gifted students. The solo is almost 2 minutes long, and is full of hammer-ons, pull offs, tremolo, etc.

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One of the biggest turn ons for me right now is a woman who has a really good taste in music. My co-worker introduced me to Saxon Shores and This Will Destroy You, and now I want to kiss her for this.



She called today. I'm very unhappy.

An Avalanche In Drop Db

I twisted my ankle pretty bad at work the other day, so I've been hobbling around the house and I feel restless. I had plans to go with Erica to SF to meet her older brother tomorrow, but it doesn't look like its going to happen. Erica had a day off work today, so she stayed over and we watched movies all day (word of the wise: History Of Violence is horrible, The Prestige is pretty good, Lean On Me is a classic). My ankle feels a lot better, thanks to her.


Being single is hard. I think something that a lot of people in relationships take for granted (BUT THAT I NEVER HAVE) is being able to sleep with another person. No, I'm not talking about the sex, but just to be able to hold and fall asleep with someone you really care about is an unrivaled feeling. I noticed that I still sleep with my right arm stretched out, just as if its still wrapped around someone's body. I also still sleep at the corner of the bed, like if some imaginary woman is laying next to me at night.

I guess I'm just not used to sleeping alone....


I've been playing in Drop C tuning a lot over the last few days, which is kinda rare since I pretty much converted to Drop Db a few weeks ago. Drop C is still fun, but not as dirty sounding as Db. Since my ankle is fucked and I can't go to work, I've been learning a lot of August Burns Red and Misery Signals stuff, and trying to master techiniques like forced harmonics. After noodling around for awhile, I realized that I am getting REALLY GOOD at tremolo picking and triplets.


I've been listening to:
Norma Jean - "The Anti Mother"
August Burns Red - "Messengers"
Jack's Mannequin - "The Glass Passenger"

I've been re-reading House Of Leaves. Still makes me scared to walk around in whichever house I'm living in.

It ISNT Slander If You Never Made A Name For Yourself In The First Place, Now, Is It???

Its the same nightmare. Over, and over, and over, and over, and over. I don't really wanna talk about, I just want to announce to the world that I can't fucking sleep anymore because I hate going back to that fucking place.

There isn't really much more to say. Do you know what I learned the other day? Pray Mantis have wings. That is the nastiest shit ever....its like a shark or a fucking bear having wings. So gross.

I've Found Where Whales Go To Die, And It Is Beautiful.

"We are all in the same boat in a stormy sea, and we owe each other a terrible loyalty."
-G. K. Chesterton




I must have sat with her at the dock for hours. Our toes were dipped in the marina water, and we made choppy conversation. She lights a cigarette after the first hour, either because she is just nervous or because she wants to disappear with the smoke. I just nodded my head most of the time, but I think after awhile we just fell silent, not because we couldn't keep bullshitting, but because the Wind was singing in such a beautiful falsetto that it would have been a sin to interrupt him. Thank god she gave me a few days to move out, other women wouldn't have given me the courtesy.


I owe you one.

Well you know I hardly speak
When I do, it's just for you
I haven't said a word in weeks
Cause they've been keepin' me from you

There's a way where there's a will
You know I got no need for stairs
Step out on the window sill
Fall with me into the air

Here we go, hold on tight and don't let go
I won't ever let you fall
I love the night, flying over these city lights
But I love you most of all

Summer In Vivid Colors

On the good days, I wake up in the morning on the couch with a hummingbird singing crooked notes outside of my window. On the bad days, I wake up next to her and see the lush colors in her eyes that Roy G. Biv would be jealous of. Some mornings these eyes make me feel guilt, knowing that I'm leaving to travel the world one day and she is always going to live in this town. Some mornings you just know that its just not your bed and you will never call it yours, even though it once was.


On the really, really bad mornings, her looks are just too dirty for me, and in 2 hours her eyes will end up making me regret.





Goddamn....











Whether the morning is good or bad, there's nothing to do in this town except fix yourself breakfast, grab your guitar, and go watch the wind scalp the white off the waves in the marina.



On the good mornings, you feel like stealing off in one of these sailboats. I'll trade my guitar in for an anchor and set sail to wherever these winds would want to take me...I feel comfortable enough to put all of my faith in them. I could travel the world and fall in love overseas to a beautiful woman in Spain, or Greece, or Italy....someone with rich culture and beautiful curly hair. We could live off somewhere in an island town where I can moor my sailboat on the beach and live life carelessly...I could be so damn happy.


On the bad mornings, you realize that all of you have is the guitar on your lap and a handful of real people in your life. The woman you are with a few blocks a way is waiting for you to come back to bed, even though its almost noon. She is beautiful, but she doesn't mean a fucking thing to me at all. And this is where I am going to draw inspiration for my next few songs.

Sometimes It Feels Just Like Putting On Your Best Clothes And Asking God To Watch Over You For One More Night....

The older I get, the more I start to believe that heaven and hell is just a tall tale passed down generation to generation to scare kids into being good. I'm waiting for the day I'm pulled into a room and being told the whole scam, and that the fate of the world rests on my shoulders to follow tradition.


I also believe that the moon landing was a hoax. How the fuck are you supposed to make me believe that we were able to pull that shit off that long ago? I guess we'll get into that another time.

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I think the worst feeling on earth is _______________....sorry, noone has come up with a word that accurate describes this feeling yet. The best way to describe it....I guess its kind of like being married but not wearing your wedding ring around town. My problem is that I am crazy about too many women...any of my close friends could have told you that. So many women have caught my eye, its just too damned impossible to stay focused on you. Everyone I think is amazing is taken, LITERALLY, but, as Kim Le once told me, there are obvious reasons why they are taken.

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"Where do you go when it gets dark? And is there room for me there?"

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do....When In Hell, Take Shots With Satan Himself.

Sometimes during the summer I feel like the main characater in a comic book. During the day, I work for the City of Suisun City's daycamp program (Summer Daze), basically taking care of 7-11 year olds. I teach them math, stupid games like hot potato, guitar (chyeaaaaahhhhh they learn twinkle twinkle little star) and they EVEN learn Richard Giddens' famous lingo; I have a classroom full of kids screaming out 'Random' and 'Wild Style' for 9 hours a day. When I go home, I already feel like the head of a household since I'm living with her this summer...cooking, washing dishes, foot massages...I guess you can just call them obligations. At night, I work at Best Buy and afterwards go to AJs pub to get stupid dumb and hyphy with my coworkers and find a way back home.

Of all these things, though, the most exciting part of my day is by far working with my kids at the Suisun Rec Center. Maybe this shows that I will be a great dad, since I love working with kids. I'll be the perfect dad because I know what to do and know what not to do, thanks to natural instinct and being raised by horrible parents, respectively. Maybe its because I'm just a simpleton....I have so many friends traveling around the world right now, but I am having such an amazing time right now just working around my kids and going home to her.




*Today's joys: taking my kids to the firestation, playing "circuit", helping Kendra with addition, and MOST IMPORTANTLY: putting George and Noel in time out for half of the day by giving me pain and misery.

**One of my life goals may almost be complete. The two bartenders that serve me all the time at AJ's almost know what I usually order. Once I can order "the usual", I can check it off....its only a matter of time, and some of you may already know what "the usual" is.

***I sold two copies of City & Colour's new album the other day at work. I also just found out that my hot coworker has really good taste in music. Gotta creep it up.




****I decided this week that my son's name is going to be Arnel. Thats a damn good name.

I flew too close to the sun.....and now my eyes are open and I am scared for my life.

I am not in the business of taking advantage of people. I know I always ask a lot from people, but I never take advantage of other people's kindness. One of the stupidest decisions I've ever made was to put her on the backburner to some fucking idiot at UCSC (aka - "her") a year ago. If you really know me, I guess thats why I still dont speak to her....because I could have had so much better and I settled for less. Still, _______ is letting me live at her place for free this Summer, gives me back rubs when I ache after work, and makes amazing blueberry pancakes.



But no matter what I do, I know she won't forgive me for what I did to her. And thats really what I deserve. It's hard to keep our hands to ourselves, but I could care less.














I learned Jack Johnson songs to play her, and I hate that guy. I even wash her dishes. Coming from me, thats the ultimate sign of love.

*Please note my use of emphasis and diction in that last sentence. Very important.

A Business Deal Gone Terribly, Terribly Wrong....

If you know me somewhat well, you should know by now that I have a fairly mild case of insomnia. For those of you who know me better than well, you should also know I have a fairly busy schedule that starts early in the morning, so insomnia doesn't fit too well into my life. When I was a little kid, I used to try staying up all night because I would have the darkest, nastiest nightmares ever. Instead of taking this route, the doctor my parents took me to see about my insomnia told me to keep a journal of all my dreams and nightmares. This sounds really stupid, but let me explain really fast:

When I used to have nightmares, I would try and kill myself AS SOON AS POSSIBLE so I could wake up or so the nightmare doesn't get too intense. You know how you kind of have some decision-making elements in your dreams? Well, obviously your nightmare isn't going to be bad if you are dead...I mean, whats the worst that can happen to you if you are dead in a dream? I used to have a reoccuring dream of driving on the Golden Gate Bridge with my parents and then getting hijacked and kidnapped by guys on motorcycles...you can bet that everytime I had a dream that I was driving on a bridge, I would make sure to drive off the bridge AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. Boom, Bam, Splash, we all die, end of story.

Anyways, by keeping a journal of my dreams/nightmares I would be able to figure out which ones reoccur and find ways to get through them. Its kind of a habit that I've kept up until last year when I got lazy, but I'm starting to pick it back up again.





I just babbled about this because I just woke up from an amazing dream.




I had a dream that I was sailing in the Mediterranean with the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life. I would trade my guitar hand for that of a painter so I could attempt to copy her face down, just so I could sit in my room and stare at her all day long. In my dream, she leaned over and whispered something in Spanish in my ear and kissed my neck. Goddamn.

Scream The Words That Can Save Us All

"Wake, feel your worth, O my soul.
Speak the word, the word that can save us all.
Awed by grace, I fall on my face.
And scream the word that can save us all."

-"Stand And Feel Your Worth" by Thrice (from Vheissu)


I was watching some documentary on The Who on VH1 the other day and noticed an interesting comment that Pete Townshend made about "searching for a note that could save the world". Being a 'music history buff' and musician myself, this is a very interesting concept.


Randomly, when I got back from the bars with my coworkers a few hours ago, I tinkered with my amp and found the GREATEST settings ever:

DRIVE: 8
BASS: 4
MID: 7.5
TREBLE: 11

Sounds good clean or distorted, you should all try it.

Entrance Music

Whats good with it?

So this is officially my first post...I'm assuming you know something about me if you are here, otherwise you are creepin' it up. I'm not gonna use this thing to creep it on people, or to lecture, or to inspire, or anything else of that nature but just to use as a diary. I've always been a really open person, so it works out for me I guess.


Its no secret that I've been writing a lot of music this summer. This has been going up and down, as a lot of people jamming with me over summer are kinda unreliable. I think the HARDEST THING to do when writing music is coming up with vocal melodies, just because I always think I'm ripping someone off....but I think we are coming to a point when every melody, riff, chord progression, etc, is being recycled anyways since so much music has come out (compare "Dani California" with "Last Dance With Mary Jane"...John Frusciante is too talented to have to blatantly rip off someone's shit, this guy kicks out a new album like every year).

I personally like challenges, so I've pretty much dedicated my whole summer to two things musically: learning how to write better lyrics/melodies and learning guitar scales. Guitar-wise, I write riffs I come up with down on notepads and combine them together to create songs, then write bass/drum/lyrics around them. So far, I have 3 complete songs, probably post tabs and lyrics when I feel good about them.

Some songs I'm trying to cover and play live someday soon: "Message In A Bottle" by the Police, "Girl Afraid" by The Smiths, "Angie" by The Rolling Stones, and a version of "The Long And Winding Road" by the Beatles that has no piano. Should be interesting.

*On a side note, the new Norma Jean album is gonna suck. I personally believe that "O' God The Aftermath" is one of the greatest albums ever produced (Even though its a Botch rip-off, whatever...) so its really sad to see them go from something so fucking brutal to their new bullshit. Breaks my heart.