A couple days into this thing...

And I'm already slacking off. Bleh. Yesterday was a good, warm, sunny day so we went for a walk in the Canyon. Which was really interesting. I tested out my photography skills...managed to catch a butterfly, about six lizards and a bunny. Plus a view of its butt. Oh, and also a bird. I almost forgot about the leaf covered, overturned shopping cart near a stream and the random, plastic brightly colored balls. What ifs and turning in my head right now. And! Yesterday I managed to finish a short piece....based on the blood theme from the horror library.

So about this whole Terry Shiavo issue. I think it should just end already. The girl's suffered enough and now you're starving her to death. Lethal injection should be the way...or if you want to be really dramatic, push her into the ocean from a really high cliff. Seriously. And that drop of wine is only going to pain her more, maybe (if she could) remind her of the past! Idiots.

And here's a cry for help. I would love to start posting mp3s but I have no clue where I can find a host...if you know I'd really appreciate the help. It doesn't have to be that big of a space.

One last thing of note, I was listening to the Wilco CD this morning...or rather it was waking me up, and I remember thinking how slow and boring it is. Comes the afternoon, after a long day of school revived after spring break, it sounds much better. But still not that good. Hmm.

The longest day

You associate days of boredom and long afternoons in the park staring at the trees with small, hazy towns in middle America. You expect old ladies sitting on their front porch, chatting about the past, about their childhood, and children running on the grounds, collapsing exhausted, with nothing better to do. You expect days where it seems like nothing is ever going to happen, where it seems like life is exactly the same, every day, over and over, and that feeling, that your existence seems quite pointless.

But it can happen just as well in a big city like San Diego. This is not a desolate little place. There is a relatively big mall near my house, there are also parks and cool places to hang out. But today is one of those days where it feels like the world’s on hold. It seems like life has fallen into this little pattern with nothing ever out of place. I don’t feel like doing anything, nothing excites me…but I guess this is expected. I don’t even feel like writing something of interest in this post. So this is it.

CDs recieved

So my three CDs arrived today. They’re Yankee Hotel Foxtrot by Wilco, Sleeping With the Ghost by Placebo, and Elva from Unwritten Law. A rather odd mix, wouldn’t you say? And none of them are new releases. But when you sign up for BMG music service this is to be expected…they only carry the really mainstream CDs, plus random obscure ones that I’ve never heard of. I mean, they have two albums from the Moldy Peaches. That’s pretty…lo fi. Actually that’s incredibly lo fi. And they don’t have American Idiot. I mean, come on, Grammy winner, best seller…but it doesn’t matter because I already have a burned copy…and it’s not as good as I expected it to be, even if I already heard it broadcasted on the radio twice. Oh, and Boulevard of Broken Dreams is really getting on my nerves. It used to be a good song, now I hear it and I turn off the TV or radio or whatever. But I guess that just proves that Green Day isn’t my favorite band…no matter how many times they play any Jimmy Eat World song, I still smile and sing along.

Speaking of new releases, I’m so, so, so excited for the new Beck album coming out at the end of the month. I’ve heard E-Pro a bunch of times, and one of the cool mp3 blogs (I’ll have to look up which one) posted a track that was only available on the Japanese import version, and it sounds really awesome. I’m looking forward to Mae’s new album too. They’re one of those pretty, indie pop punkish bands that you can’t help but love. And I remember reading a while ago that the new Ataris album was coming out Aprilish, but I just checked their websites and it’s not going to be due till late summer. I definitely won’t have a lack of releases to look forward to. Like the Foo Fighter’s double album…that is probably going to be amazing.

Foo Fighters reminded me of Coachella. There is actually a pretty good chance that I might be going…probably only for one day and probably not Sunday, which appears to have more bands I like, but Coachella is Coachella.

I think I need to make my entries a lot shorter…so I’ll leave off (since I’m discussing CDs today) with a wish for The Decemberists’s CD, which came out on Tuesday and which I don’t have. I want it…but not more than Beck. Mae is debatable. I’ll see if I can get my hands on it. I think “Engine Driver” has my favorite lyrics ever: “I am a writer, writer of fictions…”

distracting quizzies...and more to come?!

So, uh, first I wanted to post this quizzie result in case I forget...so here it is...I'm a little surprised country scored so low. Actually not really. See how easily I get distracted? Oh well. Here tis:

You scored as Indie. Indie. Emo & More 75% Indie 75% Indie Rock 71% Hardcore 58% Classic Rock. 54% Britpop 46% Industrial 46% Punk and Pop Punk. 46% Ska 42% Mainstream 33% Hip Hop and Rap 33% Country 29% You scored as Art Freak. You artsy fartsy kid you. You rock my world. Loner 50% Art Freak 50% Nerd 25% Punk Ass Kid 25% Loser 6% Cheerleader/Jock 6%

AND BEFORE ANYONE FREAKS OUT, the quizzes were from www.quizfarm.com. The original code didn't work in the post.

The rant that started it all

What do you do when there is no motivation? When your half finished stories glare at you from that sweet little folder called “Writing”, when you’re spending 80% of the day checking in on websites, hoping for a response from an inquiring comment, hoping for an insult from one of the hundreds of message boards you registered on, hoping for praise for your story on your favorite writing website, hoping for an acceptance letter to land you millions, hoping for that rejection letter so you can get it over with, hoping for the CDs that you ordered two days ago to arrive in the mail, hoping that your favorite music video will play on your favorite TV station, hoping that your favorite song will play on your favorite radio station, hoping mp3s from your favorite band will be hosted on your favorite mp3 blog, hoping, goddamn it, for some excitement in your life.

And unable to write. Where are all the story ideas? What about the fifth chapter of the next New York Times best seller? Maybe it doesn’t have to be a masterpiece. It doesn’t even have to be that long. A cute flash, that’ll do. But a flash ends up too long, and you’re stomped for another plot twist, for another character death.

Then there are only a few choices left. Unplug the TV, shut down the radio, smash the computer, grab a pen and paper, go sit outside in the park and stare at the trees, until your mind can’t take it anymore, until finally one of your what ifs seems reasonable, until you finally write another page full of rubbish, but rubbish that’s finished, that makes you so damned happy. You can give up on writing, give up on all your ambitions. Give in to your inner voices. Plop on the couch, grab a bag of popcorn and chain watch the tube. Laugh insanely when someone inquires you about your work. You can read over all your issues of Writer’s Digest, look at the prompts, try to be inspired. Or, you can merely take another route, a change of scenery, so to speak. You’re a blocked, unhappy, horror writer. Why not turn that on its head and switch gears, into the world of nonfiction (because, you know very well, that in fact you might not become an instant bestseller, you may need to make a living…and magazine writing might be the only thing that saves you), try your hand at a glorious review, try a column, start an Ezine…and if that doesn’t do the job, all the other, not so good sounding options will still be waiting.

So here it is, an attempt at a column. To free the muses, so to speak. And you know what, it really doesn’t seem that hard. Except, perhaps the motivation to finishing it.

Anyone can tell you that being a writer is hard. Being a horror writer is harder. Being a horror writer and a teenager at the same time is a lot harder. Being a music snob, horror writer and a teenager at the same time is near impossible. I mean, how are you supposed to balance things out? One day just for writing, one day for reading, one day for angusing, one day for music research? No. That’s not happening. And gosh, already I’m running out of energy. What an unfocused article, wouldn’t you say? Pick something and stick with it. But oh it’s so hard to pay attention to only one thing. Even now, in a separate window, I’m opening another website, checking my email for the millionth time, being so needy it’s scary. And oh geez, there is one more view. I must now check the comments section. Who knows, there just might be something there! Such is my nature, and I really, really do wish it was different. I mean, I bet if I really settled down, limited myself to writing two hours straight, I’ll pour out a story or two, and damn good ones at that. But, these distractions are doing what they do best, and I must stop every two seconds to play a game, or visit a website…

Let’s get to the point of this so called “column” or “rant” or whatever this is. Sometimes I wonder if there is some higher force out there, who enjoys toying with every individual, giving them temptations, giving them problems, and seeing how they deal. And maybe if they come through every little obstacle thrown their way, you give them a little reward. Maybe one day a publication, maybe a sudden burst of inspiration that’ll create a short story to wow the world. Maybe something as little as a magazine arrived early, as a free sample CD enclosed in a wave of boring ad pages. And if you can’t overcome the little games, maybe you’re forced to keep going, to finally achieve something. Maybe something different is exactly what you need to burst out of this gray cloud…

Then again, maybe not. As for me, I’m just glad that at least this is a finished product, no matter how much sense it doesn’t make, no matter how pointless it seems to be, no matter how short or stupid it is, how it’s never going to do anything to impact the world…it’s something.

And for now, that’s good enough.