urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:brightskysneyes all of you drew 2005-02-07T15:59:40Z urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:brightskysneyes:73296 2005-02-07T15:59:40Z 2005-02-07T15:59:40Z i cant remember the last time i felt this drained.<br />i stayed up all night saturday night after the show. went to a cute girls house and just relaxed the entire time but it was so much fun. My stomach was sore from laughing so hard for so long. it was nice seeing krystin, steve, mike, and slug. i had not seen them in for fucking ever. all the etown kids left that night, but ed, nick, and cameron and i stayed. it reminded me of how much i love them.<br />After we made our selves leave cha chi's (who i love) we gave one last "kow-a-bunga" like idiots in front on the car and drove home. We put in Owen and i remember never feeling so dead. It felt like tour except we will have to control our sleeping patterns better than we did. I felt like every bit of energy i used was loaned and was returned to where ever it came from the second i stopped moving. I ached of numbness but i couldnt stop smiling after i left. We kept saying how much of a wonderful weekend it was but all i wanted after that was a shower, a cigarette, and a bed. We stumbled in eds house after a 30 minute sleep/drive and told nick to turn off every light source he could find and i slept till 4 30. we all woke up two hours before sun set which made me feel like i was back at the Sara's house (i guess thats how you spell her name) watching the sun rise. I still felt dead, but content. <br /><br />Another month full of shows and too late of nights. I hope they come to the show on th 18th. Im pretty sure he have at least one show every weekend. I think next weekend we have two. <br />Thanks to all the kids who came out and with us to watch us this weekend. I miss the crazy grayson kids. <br />Happy New Year? urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:brightskysneyes:73181 2005-01-25T23:18:50Z 2005-01-25T23:30:14Z greatness<br />the creation and selfishness of knowing what you have created is great. fuel to keep the world moving, to keep the motor alive. the enjoyment, not of that the world is moving and that the movement is based for our survival, but that the world is based on your survival, it can only survive through your greatness. not that it controls you and your survival, but you control it and its survival. watching it work, your creation, creates in it self admiration for not only the process of its production, but the admiration of your self. which makes me think about all the "compliments" of telling one they did a self-less deed. if they only knew how much of an insult it was. the last thing i would want to ever become is self-less. this is to clarify my last entry that some did not understand, i know it was broadly spoken. but i refer to the part of the human race that do not understand what ive said when i say "i will point with one hand at my creation and slap your face with the other and tell you, 'It's mine.'" for our creations our like our children, just as important and dear to our souls, the attachment, our attachment. we strike the object that gives it life, the blood, the electricity, the motivation and movement. some would consider them irrational reasons, yet they speak of it in a realm that is of contradictions. they do not understand the application to the creation, creations of all kind. i am speaking of business, of children, of lovers, of the human race. the system in which we compete. the only way to keep it moving, to compete not for victory, but for ourselves and our satisfaction; our moral, rational, choices and motivations. the purpose of creation is not to benefit the human race, the purpose is for your own statement, your happiness. the advantage lays within the fact that it may benefit the human race, to be your best, to create greatness. <br />to those who do not understand are those i slap in their face. urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:brightskysneyes:72676 2005-01-10T03:42:23Z 2005-01-10T03:42:23Z working in eds studio on my solo stuff which should be out near the end of february. acoustic, mellow poppy stuff. different. urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:brightskysneyes:72376 2005-01-06T01:05:04Z 2005-01-06T01:05:04Z my eyes are what keep my blood pumping urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:brightskysneyes:72104 2005-01-04T05:31:49Z 2005-01-04T05:34:33Z im told many things about my self<br />things ive been told my entire life.<br /><br />im too literal im too skinny im too pale im too perfect (imagine me smiling if you know what it looks like)... and too cocky<br /><br />and the realization that what you have been given is simple is some how comforting.<br />im a boy<br />i love referring to my self as that, god if you knew how refreshing and perfect it sounds to refer to my self as that, to me at least and obviously.<br />the gender of the word enters at no point, its as if im saying <br />im a child<br />so if its easier, love that one as i do. <br /><br />im waiting for the opportunity to look forward to so much, ive tried and got so close. Yet the peasant will not let me. <br />Peasant = Persuasion <br />Queen = Mistress<br />Mistress= Not its actually definition (comforting?) .muchmore. urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:brightskysneyes:71829 2004-12-16T00:26:48Z 2004-12-16T00:26:48Z it's very much amazing how everything works in order<br />how you expect the days and the every day tasks to forget about important people or the feelings you have for them and words you speak to them, expecting days and tasks not to affect every word you leave. like seducing a queen. not because they are not important, but because they are so very important. dont they have better things to do? but then i forget thats apart of my ideal, thats the part of the human i would like to one day be. how seducing a queen and self improvement are sometimes the only things i let my self bother with. i barely let my self feel the cold freeze my throat and my nose. i barely let my self feel, sometimes. yet the freckles that become more aware of each other on my face along with the hair thats started to make me look dirty on my chin, let me notice how perfect the light comes through a car window with my hood up and my knees propping the book up, loving the feel of the pages between my fingers, the pressure and strength i have to use for keeping the pages spread apart so i may read whats between the books main crease and the improvements i take between the words. i cant help but think how its all too good for me when i notice that,how at first i feel as if i dont really deserve this, and i realize i have nothing to feel that i dont deserve. not for the reason that i am that deserving, but the reason that i chose them and chose no other materials or feelings or people to treasure, even as opportunity came. <br /><br />id like to have someone comment on this, no matter what it is, i just want to see a reaction, i havent written in this shit for so long.