Wednesday, December 29, 2010

3rd st.

i remember
awkwardly getting out of my car
it was night
and the lights from the buildings
were beautiful
because they froze
somehow against your face
your face-
the smile that stretched always-
was bigger that day
and i did not know your face
as well as i would come to.
and i did not know as much as i would
about you
but i knew that you
were going to be remembered.

Monday, December 20, 2010


and in the early part of the night,
you and i
huddled next to the foot of my bed
and watched the shadows on the walls
we listened to Devendra in a trance
heads together
we wanted to kiss
but instead we talked
about nothing and everything
and nothing at all
about years upon years
and arms upon arms
and i knew that you would become my best friend
so much more so than any old lover.


children are playing inside the hotel lobby
and everyone is going crazy,
including myself and my best friend.
she is throwing away worldy possessions for freedom
and in this, solace.
there is nothing wrong with this.
i don't know what is going on anymore inside her head
but then again,
who am i to think that i own her?

Wednesday, December 8, 2010


Life has been pretty strange in such a good way the past few days.

Monday, November 29, 2010

old words.

i desire strength like i desire water-

i am attracted to honesty like i am to words.

i think beauty is a posthumous object and the true sight to herald is a lover's wound or a friend's tears.
the only sad thing in this world is the potential people lose when thinking otherwise.

Thursday, November 25, 2010


the universe is a standstill
on the window sill
or the bedpost
where love had been made
with images
hovering over the intimate scene
a bedroom smell
breaths in your hair

locks of hair
always on the ground

always wanting to be around.

Monday, November 15, 2010

angel baby

right through my hair.

there's hardly any color left.

p.s. happy birthday Jeff Buckley. Marry me already.


i just love
staring out at the ceiling
some holy penchant that could easily be
your typical metaphor
dare i say that word
is a long drawn out feeling
it lingers in subtle doses
i've had some subtle doses
and i've been intimate with the share
some say that things develop over time
and i'm starting to understand the concept of collapse
never mind this writing
it's all dreary shit
and no one reads it
and i like that
all of this can be thrown onto the internet
and yet it is still obscure.


tell you
give me some time
nothing as beautiful as nothing at all
(i) tell you
give me some time
nothing as beautiful as startin' the war
tell you
give me some time
nothing as beautiful as nothing at all

you are
you were.


biting my teeth
in rows
counting them with my tongue
just to keep the peace.
it's clear that things are not working
(at this time)
let us sit back and stare at
odd examples
of just how long
human beings can draw things out.


Tuesday, November 9, 2010


are we both oblivious here?

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


and we are all digging
drowning in dirt.
you see the four shovels
constantly moving-
hands can be roughed up with either red clay or brown dirt-
overalls, jeans, ballcaps, t-shirts,
or maybe it can be really cold-
snow perhaps?-
either way we are outside
and either way we are digging into life.
the entire time as the song plays
all that you see is the exhausting work
that has to be done-
that is being done-
the motions,
the colors,
the exhaustion,
the sweat,
the fucking weariness,
the expectations.
and then
maybe a little let up?
only to find what the kids have been looking for
upon pages
fill the dirt
and it all happens when the "one"
discovers the first piece of their "treasure"-
the single 1/3 of a page
and then the rest of them get excited
and work even harder
until they find the "treasure"-the
pages and pages
hundreds, thousands! of pages
in the grave

and the end shot
is them
all four
in this massive hole that they have dug for themselves
all dirty
covered in dirt
with huge fucking smiles on all of their faces.

Monday, November 1, 2010

lady of the flowers.

the room was filled with pages
the lines outlined the walls
and all it took was some scotch tape and patience.
and maybe some time to kill.
but back then,
all that i would do was listen to a song
for hours
on repeat
and hum and sing
and scream
while i stuck those pages to the walls.
happy and content
to be alone
in that room.
X st
could be 6th st
but it lacked a few key players-
the tall lanky kid with the mean eyes and his pair of ratty headphones,
the bulky kid with the teddy-bear heart and his pair of ratty blue addidas pants,
the handsome kid with his blue eyes and his ratty book of drawings,
the angel kid with his fucked up theories and his ratty cassette tapes of old men talking,
the genius kid with his focus and his ratty purple car covered in Anime,
the salty kid with his paranoia and his ratty black Sharpie...

they were all so brilliant.

Monday, October 25, 2010


starting to stare out into the memories
while walking on S st.
and the female cycle never helps with depression
only enhances those lulls
only makes them more enhanced//

when Kyle
was fumbling in your living room
you held him highly
you were infatuated with the idea
of love
he stood in your living room
with a full loaded chest
his brain his ammunition
his mouth
your rouge
he stared out of the empty windows and contemplated
thories on life and science
zooming past your head
because at the time you thought he was just so brilliant
(and he was)
or that you were just simply stupid
(and you were)
but most of his talk was nonsense
due to drugs
but you still held him highly
wanting a piece of him
and you both walked down the town with a few others
who formed a group
rallying under the stars
thumbing down thoughts
always fumbling//

there is always a loud feedback
when i hear a familiar name
sometimes i want it all to be the same
like how it was
like how it was
like how it was

i'm 25 but i feel like i've died a few times
because these memories
are more like
but i've lived them
i believe.


give me good news
because it feels absent.
something not so logical would be fantastic.

cheerful, in the air -the hands are raining down bribes
and i'm feeling tired
and so maybe the lull is fine.
we are all wanting to hide in our beds
with the blankets over our heads
anxious to feel comfortable.

i want to feel comfortable with not being productive.

(memory lapse and broken aspects)

Tuesday, October 19, 2010


i wish i wish

i wish

EYEDEA was still alive
that I went to school (sometimes)

that Warpain't new album would drop already

that J.Buckley was here-right here-sitting down

everytime I go play at a college on tour
i start to yearn
for that feeling
of being somewhere
with a purpose
face in a book
that whole gig
learning about new bands
new books
new shit

staring out of
dirty windows.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010


Come out if ya wanna


10.8.10-Sunset Tavern -Seattle, WA 21+ 8pm

10.9.10-Mississippi Studios-Portland, OR 21+ 8pm

10.11.10-The Crepe Place-Santa Cruz, CA ALL AGES 8pm

10.12.10-Bottom Of The HIll-San Francisco, CA ALL AGES 8pm

10.13.10-The Bootleg Theater-LA, CA ALL AGES 8pm

10.14.10-Pitzer College-Pomona, CA ALL AGES 8pm

10.15.10-Riverside Community College-Riverside, CA ALL AGES 6pm

10.16.10-Sophia's Thai Kitchen-Stripped down set-Davis, CA 21+ 8pm

thanks ya'lll...

let's see where tha road takes us


To tha people in PORTLAND, OR

come out to our show


at Mississippi Studios w/ BATHS + EL TEN ELEVEN!

love you

Monday, October 4, 2010


remember when you and I would take the drive
down the highway from Long Beach to downtown LA
and pay 10 dollars to see the most magical shit
that we would have easily paid 100 for
but instead we sat down and ate pasta
and you drank Guiness
and I water or lemonade (because I was a baby back then)
and we would watch Jon Brion leap to the stage
with such precision
it would make our hearts ache
and he would pound out music for 2-3 hours straight
strumming and singing and clapping and
what the hell did we just see?
we would think

we would think
and stare out in awe
this is the most talented man in America
and here he is sitting down with us
in this tiny room
playing to all of these fools
who worship him too
and we all felt so honored to just be in the same building as him

and then i was floored
that night
THE night
when there was little ol' Fiona
just sitting in the corner of the room
it was so dark
but I swear to this day
her eyes glowed in the dark
and I stood silently screaming
fumbling over my thoughts
that innocence
i wanted to tell her how much she affected my life
how much she did
how much she will always do
but when we finally stood face to face
all i could do was
somehow she understood
and she

well i don't have to go into all of the details
but she understood
and that night
has got to still be
one of the most memorable nights of my life.


1. Jeff Buckley
2. Fiona Apple
3. Bjork
4. Beth Gibbons of Portishead
5. Jonsi of Sigur Ros
6. Billie Holiday
7. Ella Fitzgerald
8. Lauryn Hill (before she went crazy)
9. Elliott Smith

mid 90's post child

Wednesday, September 29, 2010


into the night
the light
purple scene
i want to lie in a bed shrouded by candles

where the windows open up to city lights

yes, you know -the whole typical dream.

once drove all over San Francisco
with Sole blaring out of the speakers
you know,
you remember
the album where he samples Portishead & Tricky
yea that one
well, anyway
we drove all over those hills
us in awe of the lyrical violence that we were hearing
and we had so many damn dreams back then
that involved that two of (us)
working together
making shit happen.

and we did for quite some time.
was a good run.

but I remember that city
the air was something strong in my lungs
there was no need for the air conditioner
we rolled the windows down
to take it in.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010


Still on my Kerouac Kick and i'm done with the biography that showed his true side
a racist, an alcoholic, a haunted homo, a hot boy, a womanizer, a pathetic guy,
a god (yes still), a sad, sad, sad man who never got the chance to love his lover back
because it was the 40's/50's/60's even and man, you just didn't do that kind of shit.
unless you were strong.
still the black headed writer was a force
and i am intrigued beyond belief
even though
i know a lot of his secrets.
He kept a "sex list" where he would list every man and woman he had slept with along with the number of times he had slept with them...
this list included fame whore Allen Ginsberg, junkie William Burroughs, fucked up Neal Cassady, beauty Diane DiPrima, and even -yes even a quiet, quick "frisk" in the bathroom with the brilliant Salvador Dali.
Kerouac had his lovers-and i'm talking possibly even in the hundred(s)...
but then after all the sex in the 40's and 50's
he stopped for a brief time to live on some mountains where he even refrained from masturbating so that he could find his inner "self", his "buddha"...
while dreaming of the Dharma, he wrote some books on the Dharma
but then fell off the "enlightenment" wagon
and then became a Republican
who wore boring tweed suits and coffee stained ties.
He believed in the war, in racism, and that Jews should be murdered.
And all this bad stuff about him
does not make me like him any less.
I don't know exactly why
but I always have to factor in the era that he lived in...
it was a fucked up time.
But I'm not making any excuses for him-
he could have been a clean, radical
who believed in freedom, free love, and was antiantianti
but instead he despised the Hippie Generation and even loathed the Beat Generation
simply because
he was jaded fellow
who's books took often 5,6,7,8,9, even 10 + years to be published.

By the time "On the Road" was published in 1957,
he hated his own ideals.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

13 days

and counting.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010


This song
I could listen to this song
100 times in a row
400 times in a row
it's so good you forget that it's even playing
(does that make sense?)
it just starts to blend into the background of your life
as you lie in bed
and look up to the ceiling of words that you placed above
to possibly inspire you
or help calm you
during a frantic night
this song
I could listen to this song
when you were in my arms
so young back then
humming along to the words you didn't know
young love
youthful love is frightening because there is nothing like it
ever again
it's there and will never come back
this song
I could listen to this song
on long drives
to Big Sur
and back again
this song
I could listen to this song
and take the drugs that fucked with our
lungs again
this song
I could listen to this song
and rip my teeth out
because there is nothing more perfect to do at a moment when you feel that no sound could be more beautiful.

125 Grand Ave.

there is this uncertain quality in the air lately...
i'm trying to understand it as I wake up everyday//
don't know where it's going
don't know where it's coming from

the same form is the form of yesteryears

I was a kid when I moved to Long Beach
living off of canned tomato sauce and dry noodles,
Fiona Apple and Magnolia,
jazz biographies and expired phone cards.

I would ride all over the city
with my headphones strapped
holding my cd player as if it was a gun
to my side to my side to my side
holding the notes clenched to my ribs

sometimes a note that she would hit
would make me cry
as i pedaled down hills
the tears climbing down my face

i was not frantic back then
i was inspired
but calm

(i knew time would come)

And then the fires destroyed the land in '03
and the ash came out of the sky
covering us all as we walked outside
my bike
my bike
my arms
my ribs
turning into rust

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

big sur.

and all the clay souls
were with us that day
we decieded
on a small whim
to make the magical drive to Big Sur
i wanted to see the blue
and you wanted to show me too
because i had never been

sweater in hand
the cd's (John Frusciante and Tycho)
i was obsessed with that one record
during that time
my heart had been broken
and it seemed so romantic to listen to John's wails
getting lost somewhere in that wind

we drove and hardly stopped
took no caution
and you guided
i had to switch seats because you knew the mountains

and when we finally did stop
all i remember
as i stepped out,
was almost falling to my knees
the sight was so beautiful
nothing had ever made me cry before
purely from sight
but this blue,
this blue had never touched me before
i was it
and it was i
and i stood there,
arms wrapped around nothing
in tears
humbled by this existence
mourning already that i would have to leave it.

we stared off into the cliff
was the purest song
we could ever learn to sing that day
that day
that day was our hymn
we were religious
that night
as we dove into
each other's skin

i read you like the final pages
of any scripture
i could understand

Thursday, September 2, 2010


i'm trying really hard to look at the big picture here.

to keep it in mind at all times,
so as not to get overwhelmed
so as not to give up.

i'm feeling very anxious this morning
i want to take medicine that does not belong to me
i want to forget
i want to just sleep.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010



(clear the throat)

uh hummmmmmmmmmmm

yes i think i love you.

You, you September

you are all things clearing

you, you

you are all things worth taking chances for

you, you

prove to be worshiped.

don't let me down.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010


down into the base
of your skull
maybe your spine
i have a tattoo of you
that i haven't gotten
just yet
but the blood is there
i'm ready
and i'm willing

these poor
cymbal crashes
into the back of the bedroom
where wrists are
not what they used to be
and i'm wailing
the siren
of lost


Monday, August 23, 2010

Grandpa Joe

My grandpa Joe passed away last week.
So strange that he is not here.

There are a lot of memories of him.

His brown, brown skin
and his baseball caps
homeade tattoos
and cigarrettes.
He was old school.

The only pictures that I have of he and I
are from my 1st birthday
(no lie)
I was little,
on his lap
and he is touching my nose
with his index finger
and I am smiling at him
in some quiet,
who the hell
is this guy
who the hell
is he not?

The only other pictures I have of him
are newer ones,
when he is older
-riding horses, sitting in the garage, smoking out of his pipe, smiling into the camera
because he was now a changed man.

I'm glad he was a changed man.

Rest in peace grandpa Joe.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

gats in the back

i remember

driving in his car
summer was beside me
windows were rolled down
my hair was growing

and he was asleep,
on the bedroom floor
huddled in warm materials

and i was escaping to run errands
and listen to this new music
that i had rambled inside my head

and their voices
were chants
that were never coming back
and i drove without melody
or even a simple thought

i drove like i was carrying a knife or a gun

the fearless one

smokey rose

i honestly
believe that if i
stop drinkin coffee
and start drinking smokey tea
that words and
lyrics and movements
will start coming back to me.

time to start the morning ceremony.

Monday, August 9, 2010

the round-up

proud of my friends:

machu, always searching
andrea, trekkin'
jimmy, forever writing
aaron, hero of the youth
amy rose, always singin'

and this is something to aspire to.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010


this afternoon
a California judge
a hateful, unjust
and made
a whole lot of people

thank you mr. white man for creating history today.

California, let's fucking finally end this.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

lovely bloodflow

i think that working in an environment
that has actual living, breathing people
would better for my mind.

communication is needed.

oh there's so much to do

Monday, August 2, 2010

handful of flowers

all of these 90's movies
and even early 2000's
leave me feeling
and wanting more
of the easy time
when living was
no one is at a laptop
everyone is actually talking
to one another
when sex was
making love
in a New York city
when reading was
still being done
at small local coffee shops
when people used laundry mats!

but oh people still do this!
just not here
but in bigger cities,
there is life
in the streets.

i guess i'm just a sucker
for films
where people actually conversated
everything is a robot
everyone is a mico chip.

Thursday, July 29, 2010


we had a map of the piano
I think Lucas took it with him
to Seattle
he and John took a quarter each
Aaron took the smallest sliver
Kyle ate his portion
Machu's in her bones
Michael has pinned it to his heart
and I have it tattooed on my brain

and we all took acid
remember when we were young (er)
and everyone was single
and there was no asking about whereabouts
i met you guys in the Colfax hills
tiny car
tiny radio
and we swallowed the bread whole
and went dreaming in the dark

i had my back flat on the bridge
and the water was under me
you three went into the pocket
and laughed about prophecies

and i remember being really ok with being so small

and then in the backseat,
it finally hit me
that our dear friend Kyle was beautiful
and a genius
and i wanted nothing more than for him to be near
but he was off ranting about the government somewhere
so instead, we all held worship
while listening to his music

and ha remember
my lungs were green
i could feel them
that night
and the entire next day

gender lines didn't exist
the smile of his was the equivalent of hers
and my face hid in the books
at my mother's house
when i felt like it

viva lost hood

he was tall
he had a great frame
i remember what his shoulders looked like in the dark
some sort of tale
that lingered on
for too long
the cars went by
fast around the corner
in that house
in that house
you could hear almost every sound
the neighbors walking by
the dogs fighting
the rain dancing
across the tin roofs
children with sticks hitting the chain-link fence
people making love
above you
alongside you
inside you
i slept on the couch
without making a sound
always to music
(viva lost hood)
there were times when we would gather
in the living room
and just laugh and laugh
about someone's antics
or we would go out at night
our crew
our clan
and wear bands around our heads
arms in the air
and roam Sacramento
as if everything was brand new to us
(because it was)
and we would sometimes sit on the roof
and watch the sky
turn into code
mumble either confessions
or make out
or draw on the white tile
until the building fell apart
and we would hide it in the trees
(until they chopped it down)
i would lay on the carpet floor
and hum along to music that
i had just discovered
or remember that time
John got me to smoke out of a bong
for the (first) time
and we "discovered" Portishead
and afterwards
awkward commenced
(to which he then left)
and i was free to be high
and alone

i'm staring at frames of tall women
who walk into the coffee shop
unaware of the two men
who's eyes are haunting them
mine are too
but not for the same reason as they
i think of what she is thinking
of what she did the night before
of how many vowels are in her name
or street
or vehicle.

all of these people we will never meet
can inspire you to
befriend a stranger
or on the other hand
it can overwhelm you

i don't want to be overwhelmed
i want to be careless
and run to the hills
and sing

and have unexpected experiences
with people i've always known

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

pink floyd

this hotel is getting wierder as the nights go on.

it may seem that i'm always so unhappy when i write these blogs
but i'm just nostalgic
and wanting
some past
or a constant present.

it's all good.
i have the weekend to figure me out.

2+ 2

going through the motions
is not
a way to live.

it should really never even be an option.

there are two halves right now.
one half of me doesn't even remember what i did the night before.
the other half is anxious, always.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

the supremes

i need
shut out everything
for a day
and not listen to
anyone speak
not worry about anything

Monday, July 26, 2010

blood. visions.

watched a movie with Jordyn last night about a man who kills the man his husband cheated on him with...
killed him with a snowglobe.
snowglobe to tha dome.

all i could think about was the amount of blood that came from his poor, gourgous head...
his black locks
stuck together
while lying on a stack of books.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

my girl


i love you

Sunday, July 18, 2010

old skull

i read your words
and it makes me want to swallow them

you old skull.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

lose your sex

He is Howard Roark

and I Dominique Francon.

She is Howard Roark

and I Dominique Francon.

I am Howard Roark

and he/she Dominique Francon.

( lose your sex)

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

the body breaks

listening to old Devendra Banhart
reminds me of
the times
15 year old Machu would come over
to my lopsided house
and we would sit and talk until
we grew tired
and i would put on Devendra
and we would fall asleep
on my tiny twin bed
our arms slightly touching
(arms upon arms)

the sun would be almost going down
sliding through the bay windows
through my blanket curtains

and Devendra's voice
over the small guitar

there were no other sounds
during these times
all you could hear was that magic
in my temple

Monday, July 12, 2010


I may be obsessed
crazy, even and that is fine
I get that,
I get that all the time

Oh, and now we're casting stones
Not to decipher evil
but what is mine?
I get that,
I get that all the time

Father was a midnight driver
I hardly knew him
all I know is that his
hair was long
that's something to be proud of,
something to be proud of

Mother's upset
Dreaming of all of the answers
and all the crimes
If we can make it
Can we make it right this time?

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Once I Was

a daddy's girl
who hid inside her father's hair
long black Shoshone
(but you're Mexican too so don't you dare forget that-i know i know i know)
he was beautiful in the 80s
all the girls wanted to date him
he wore track jackets
and drank
and did drugs because back then
it WAS cool.

he now lives in New Mexico
where i've never been
but man, i've seen the most beautiful pictures
his house
is on flatland
with cactus and
and a dog in the backyard

my brothers are getting older
one of them is a god
and the other
well, the other one is brainwashed
by my father, the one with the raven hair
and a sad heart.

my father -i remember-
he used to hide out and "relax" in the garage
and listen to Led Zeppelin and Alice in Chains
while staring at the sky...
or maybe i'm mistaken
maybe it was I who stared out into the sky
while he sat in his recliner chair and
hummed along to the sound.
i would block him out and
draw circles with my eyes
over the stars
as my restless heels scraped against the driveway
you see when i was a teenager
i never wore shoes
and i was always angry.
(we are always angry at that age)

well, now my father
listens to Nirvana
in a garage
somewhere in New Mexico.
he calls me when he's drunk
to lament and to scorn

and my heart is halfway torn
between wanting to love you
and wanting to forget
your raven hair
i now own.

Monday, July 5, 2010


Hey dad

holidays are uncomfortable rituals
that i don't feel like performing.

thank you.

tonight, i miss you.
you're somewhere in New Mexico...
i imagine you have a huge porch
with your 2 story house.
i imagine a full yard with dogs and no trash.
you're so clean
clean clean
wearing your sports t-shirts and a bald head
and your leg brace
(that -that -i can never forget)

do you still listen to Led Zeppelin in your garage
late at night?
where you sit in your chair and stare up at the sky?

i'm looking up there tonight
waiting to hear your hymns

i promise
i will keep my ears open this time.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010


last night
was like
one giant
it was her and

Sunday, June 27, 2010

sketches to my sweetheart, the drunk

i would like to go to that little house on Rembert street
and lie in the grass
like he used to.
i would stare out into the sky and pray to him...
or maybe there would be silence.
this year would erase itself and it would be 1995
and he would be there beside me, smiling-with his eyes closed.

you see, i see it.
i want to believe this.
but he's not here anymore
but his music allows him to live forever.

art is fucking heavy man.
it can do that for people.


my dreams are full of real things...lately.
people of my past are in full effect,
i'm telling you- it's vivid.

if i could go back...

(i'd rather face celibacy than be caustic)


this past week has been quite eventful.
i've learned a great deal about some of my friends.
i've learned that my girl is ok...thank god.
i've learned that my restlessness makes me scared.
i'm learned that i will never leave Sylvia Plath.
I've learned the full value of Ayn Rand.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

on my pillows...

this week has flown by
middle of the night
cowering into the emotion that we never reach.

i want to fall asleep on my lover's chest
and dream of her.

this weekend is ours.

Monday, June 14, 2010


i'm bored out of my fucking mind here at work.

tonight, tonight...and it's not even 5 o'clock yet.

here's looking to tomorrow.

Thursday, June 10, 2010


i feel a little overwhelmed
but it's all for the good.

i'd rather feel ovrwhelmed than underwhelmed...
and that is how it's been for too long.

finally, let's get things started.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010


today was disappointing.

the older man in the gym fucked with my head.


there were some positive things that happened.

we will see how this all goes.

Monday, June 7, 2010


this week i have been preparing.
some things i'm ready for, some things i have no idea what is coming next.

eyes half open, eyes half closed.

forever dreamin'.

Monday, May 31, 2010

isin't she lovely?

we have been together for over a year and a half now
and i find myself still caught by surprise when i look at her.

morning poncho

this morning, jordyn and i woke up early to stake out the sale at Thrift Town...and man oh man.
we came up with some great finds.
3 dollar serape poncho...i've been looking for one of those for a while now.

tonight at the hotel, it is dead here.
i've been on the internet for hours and the night is going by an ok pace.

we leave for LA tomorrow for a show and Nico's birthday!
I've got a James Baldwin book for the ride.

Sunday, May 30, 2010


here's to new beginnings. 


my co-worker stays at work an extra 2-4 hours after his shift so that he doesn't have to go home to his wife. 
he'll do anything to stay here. 
he's not looking for overtime pay...he's not looking for companionship.
he just wants to read his books in silence.
he wants to hide from her for as long as he can.

knowing and seeing this makes me so damn sad. i hope to god that i don't ever make my lover feel this way about me. 

i have a lot to learn. 
i know this.
i think that we all do.
we will always have a lot to learn.
but i want to be a better person to those in my life. 

i have to look at all of this as something other than a setback.
it can be a very positive thing.
i'm learning that it's all about your mind state. 
and yes, that should have always been an obvious thing but it's not. 
it's really fucking hard to remember to stay positive all the time.
i mean, isin't it?
maybe it's just me.
i don't know.
but i've always been prone to look at the worst in things...
when I was younger, i would keep it all to myself and brace myself for it.
but somehow, as i got older-i started talking
and that talking made me somehow feel better
and then it all got to be too much 
and i would say too much.
i think i like being closed off
only because it doesn't affect others when you keep things to yourself.

it doesn't have to be a bad thing, keeping your mouth shut.

just look at it as "acceptable silence".

oh, and yea good morning. 

Saturday, May 29, 2010


need some serious hiding time.
need some serious thinking time.
find out what i want.
what i don't want.
it's always a guessing game.
i guess, it's how we learn about each other, about ourselves.
it's not a big deal.
atleast, it doesn't have to be.

women are strange.
i am even stranger.
human beings in general have a ton of shit that comes along with them.
bags all around-bags all around.


i miss Jimmy. i miss our friendship.
friend! friend! friend!!!
can you hear me all the way out in the desert?
i know that you are somewhere building castles with fellow soldiers,
or writing beautiful letters,
thinking always
i miss our conversations.
and the drives to nowhere
where we would always end up somewhere.
just know, that i'm thinking about you and i hope that you are living beautifully.

lost rings in the bathroom stall

i'll be the first one to say it.
i'm a pretty difficult person to live with,
to see on a day to day basis.
i'm not an easy person.

that is just how it's always been.

i've got a lot of growing to do, but don't we all?


Gonjasufi is making my life a lot better right now.

Last night was insane.

Probably one of the best i've had in a long time.

It's good to know that I can be (_________) and laugh that hard.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

hotel motel holiday inn

it's not that i don't like caves.
i just get anxious.
and in order for me to huddle and stay in a room, it's got to have a bed that is low to the ground (if not, on the ground) with almost no lights (dimdimdim) with a record player on and without a tv.

i think that is why my current room freaks me out if i stay in it for too long.
it's like a room i've never had before.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Souls On Ice

4th night at the hotel, with one more night to go until i get some balance.

this place is stagnant, i tell you.

tonight i'll be finishing Cleaver's "souls on ice" and starting Gabril's "Love Letters".

Although, I do believe that Eldridge Cleaver had some amazing vital points regarding the black community, the Black Panther ideology, and of the American justice system in general...
I do not agree with him on many things.
He compared homosexuality to "baby rape" and even "murder".
He called homosexuality a "sickness".
He also raped women during a period of his life.
He called Martin Luther King a coward.
Those reasons alone, denote him from his high throne that I will never place him on.

Monday, May 24, 2010


i'm actually very excited for the future.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

come again?

have you ever noticed how people will often repeat what you tell them as a question?
this happens all the time at the hotel.
they will ask me a question
and i will answer them
and they will then proceed to repeat what i just told them
but form it into a question.
as if they need some extra reassurance...

i guess, really...we all do.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010


long day.


but everything is going to work out.

angel baby

i've been in this library for 4 hours.

i forgot there were other people around.

Monday, May 17, 2010

got yo' self a gun.

i've had a Nas song stuck in my head for 3 days now.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

two weeks

the medicine is deceiving. 
it gave me 3 days of relief
but on the 4th day,
i woke up numb.

my head feels like it wants to explode.

i don't want to be sick anymore. 

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

grey oceans

head feels like a balloon
for the 7th day.

something about hip-hop, trip-hop music that can a person feel

the new cocorosie album has held my head in wonders.
i want to fall in love with it,
i do really.
there was a time when i believed with my whole heart,
that those women could do no wrong
and this isin't to say that I don't enjoy this album-
it's just
but then again,
it's spiritual
so i guess that makes sense.

Monday, May 10, 2010


today i learned that we will be opening up for THEMSELVES (the super human Doseone + the sweetheart Jel)...

i would go to the bay with my boys and drool over Dose's performance//
writing feverishly in an attempt to review his show//
the boys and i worshiped him and his Anticon tribe//

i remember studying the Subtle album
lying on my back
trying to picture his phrases against the ceiling
in a feeble attempt for it all to make sense

i remember us all driving in cars
blaring out THEMSELVES out the windows
we were so young
so carefree then

i remember camping and we were all in awe
acid and Jel's beats against our backs

i remember long drives to the hills with 13 & God sessions...
silently praying to beats that I believed in.

needless to say, my friends and I worshiped/woship him/them like a religion.

So, to be able to share a stage...if only for one night...

is a fucking honor.

(I want to be like Dose and never sleep and work 24/7. Living art. Not merely singing)

I guess it's a process. Taking it one day at a time.
Every other day I get a little discouraged,
Every other day I get a little more determined.

Sunday, May 9, 2010


lucas johnson is a 20 something male
who wears headphones on his head
and is prone to nostalgia on the regular. 
he sips lattes every morning as he walks
and walks
and walks 
while humming along to WHY? or Doseone or Sole
or something even more obscure...
and he thinks 
and he thinks
and he thinks
until he reaches a porch of some sort in Seattle
where he takes off his backpack 
it's always black
and then writes 
and he writes 
and he writes
and he writes

and my god, this week Lucas
and my god, this month Lucas
and my god, this life Lucas

i am obsessed with you, friend. 

Betty White Look-A-Like

woman with a baby (cute baby-he was a cute baby) 
walks into the hotel lobby
with a grandmother who resembles Betty White (i'd marry Betty White...well, no I probably wouldn't but I do love her so)
they walk into the lobby and are nothing but smiles-
soft smiles, the kind of people that if you saw them on the street, would make you stop and smile-you know the kind, the kind that stick to you. 
stay with you.
make you wanna find a lover and make a family.
you know. you know.
they walk into the lobby and the entire world stops.
just then.
just then. 


holidays are hard.

i'd almost rather them not exist.

oh, i know. why would i ever say such a thing? but it's the truth. 

just celebrate one another every day...

today, sitting at the breakfast table without my own family just made me realize one more time what i don't have. 

i'd rather have slept in.

in other news...

new flying lotus album is fucking above all those other instrumental LPs. 
get on his level. 

Saturday, May 8, 2010

inspired by Flying Lotus's new album, Jean Genet, Pessoa, and the realization that 
some people are not meant to be in my life.

it's liberating, really. 

Monday, May 3, 2010

more soul.

here's to a new start.
you know, the ones everyone always talks about.
but i'm serious. 

new focus, new plans, old friends, fewer of them, more music, more soul.

here we go. 

Sunday, May 2, 2010

the 90s and machu

this week will be heavy.
but it's gonna be ok.
i remember this while Machu and I are singing 70's music while thinking of the 1990s.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010


i guess i view my friendships with people differently than some might.

i think of loyalty as something permanent...there is no option. 

if you are in my life, then i care for you. 

i'm starting to understand that trust can be something very temporary
at this point in my life,
i don't really trust too many. 

this is not a sad statement. 
this is a very important thing for me to remember.  

Rain Must Pour

I miss Jordyn and Jeff Buckley. 
I don't what it is...
maybe it's because i'm going to start my period but fuck

i feel like crying.

you know that same old song

but tonight, I salute to you
and fall asleep to your humbling voice. 

Monday, April 26, 2010

Light My Fire

Bill Withers is singing to us 
through the neighbor's window next door

something to the tune of a Doors cover

Nick, Dani, and I are hanging out at Tim's apartment...eating pizza and spilling all over the hardwood floor. 

We are a mess. 

Sunday, April 25, 2010


oh, man. i miss jordyn. 

we are on a mini tour again-the lovely Los Angeles.

Something has settled wrong with me and body feels like shit.

I feel dehydrated. 

i want to sleep but my body won't get comfortable. I don't understand it. 

Maybe it's because my girl is in our bed. 

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

dream letter

i feel that i've been living in an alternate universe this past week.
nothing really makes sense
but at the same time
nothing really matters.

everything really matters
but it seems like a big blue haze has been over my eyes this wee

Monday, April 19, 2010


it's been a heavy couple of days around here.
emotions are everywhere. 
it makes me feel helpless. 

Friday, April 16, 2010

Go Do

we met Jonsi.

everything is connected.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Hangar, I love you.

I love the Hangar.
Lately, it's been my second home.

I hope it will stay forever.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Al Green

Al Green is playing in the hotel lobby
and i remember being 6 years old,
singing along to him
in the back seat of my mother's car-
she loved him-
she never really listened to much music (from what I can remember)
but she loved him.

there was hardly any sunlight that came through her bedroom window,
i remember
a stark darkness
and comforting.
i would listen to Al Green's record
while staring out the window
through the half drawn curtain.
it was white.
her walls were bare.
there was always nothing there.

i would hold my breath in between the pauses of each song,
always smiling in great gasps when the next one started.

mazzy star morning

in the coffee shoe
with Mazzy Star in my ears
i forget that other people are around

it's a bad character trait

but i'm so tired of failing people

and last night broke my heart 

i need to be better to her. 

Thursday, April 8, 2010


you see!!!!

this is what life was meant for!

i love you.

no seriously, i do.


reading the Jeff Buckley book
that I recieved for my birthday
hurts me.

i always feel so overwhelmed and can hardly look at or read more than 3 pages at a time.

it's like Pessoa's "book of disquiet"'s my favorite book but I've been reading it for the last 4 years and I'm only a little more than halfway.

fucking read more than 2 sentences and he knocks me out.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

hotel california.

the third day and one more to go...

and then i am free from the hotel-hospitality-toothbrush-toothpaste-hair comb-shaving cream-razor-pillows and blankets

world of fucking spoiled Americans.

until Monday, that is.

(and man...i wonder what the 5 year old me would say if we were face to face.
you know, the one who used to obsess over the blue Diana Ross & the Supremes record and dance and sing to her stuff animals-she didn't know that it was so typical to do back then-i wonder. i never thought about working at a hotel -well, i never thought about turning 25 either, i guess. i actually have never been able to see myself over the age of 27. )

i guess we will see.

love you, goodnight.

is dancing...

the boy who makes my coffee at Metro looks just like my father did when he was our age.
black shaggy hair
and those tight t-frame sweatshirts
form fitting jeans
and facial stubble-sometimes a mustache.

it took me back when i saw him today.
i had never realized.
but jordyn was there to be a witness so we both exclaimed
"woah. that guy looks like (my) (your) father when he was younger".

_________________________________________thiseathismuchtoofamiliar//distant//troubling sometimes
(oh but stop your damn complaning-your still young enough to pass this old blood test)


transfer to stumbling upon the most glorious record shop in sacramento

there were piles of classic and obscure records all over the floor,
bursting from the seams
of this dusty old building
i'm in love
sort of rapture
old Miles, Ella, Billie, Bill Withers, Led Zep, Motown, 1940's comps, etc etc
I want i want i want
but I could not find the Mingus
(and so the hunt must go on!)

i will go back there friday with time and 100 dollars and
fucking scour the place
and leave with a pile of madness
and so many things
to discover and study.

all i want to do is study music.
music. and i don't mean the fucking technical shit.
i don't care about the rudiments, the notes exactly, the time signatures-
no no no.
i want to hear the throat stretch,
the skin of it.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010


jordyn is at my work
showing me all of the pictures that
she has of me on her computer.

i'm really fucking lucky that she is obsessed with me.

that girl is legit.

Monday, April 5, 2010


you really don't realize how much music can help
you find yourself
smiling down the street
as you are driving.

Sunday, April 4, 2010


these are the things that i don't tell many
(if any)
because fuck,
it's fucked 


darling, why do you allow such things
to come into your life?
(and you say "oh but she never knew any better")
oh, all the repercussions of a life not lived
or role models for parents
i'm so tired of this.

i wish i could hold your hand and guide you through this simple life that i live
and make you see that there are good people

that men are not monsters
all the time
that women are not out to get you
or hurt you
or steal from you

that sometimes, there are genuine moments

that sometimes, it is ok to laugh and mean it

that sometimes, it is good to smile and feel it

oh, mama
i'm so sorry for everything you've never felt. 


this past week has been a frantic blur
and this time, 
i am not being dramatic. 

experiences that are traumatic 
NEVER leave you.
don't forget that.
trust me,
i tried and all that i got were a few eventful years
and now 
all i feel 
is the 
crying light. 

there has to be hope. 
there must be, otherwise why would we be here?

if anything, 
you have to gather all of those moments that kill you
and pull them together 
and create something really beautiful if you can. 

whether you scream at people, 
or cry during recordings, 
or jump and shout on a stage,
or read to a child,
or write letters to dead heroes,
or kiss your lover,
or walk your dog,
or hug a friend,
or eat cereal.

it has to work out. 

Saturday, April 3, 2010


if you have soul,
you keep it quiet

(almost none of us do). 

baseball bat to the face

i'm so tired of this shit. 

Friday, April 2, 2010


the friends that i miss
were staples at the old house
(and when i say old house, i mean old)

we would eat tofu tacos on the sidewalk,
or fall asleep to devendra banhart's record (the solo shit),
or have dance parties in the kitchen (daft punk and royksop),
or hide in my tiny bedroom,
or drink way too much Carlo Rossi and talk for hours in the lopsided living room,
or have presents be thrown into open windows when not looking,
or quiet recordings of voices sung or unsung.

i am studying the ways that we grow up.
and i understand the different theories that people have proposed...
yes, i know that we all go through cycles
(we are born, we are not alone, and then we grow up and we are alone and then we meet people and then we are not alone anymore but then we lose contact with those so we are really alone and then then they meet people and now then are not alone but then they lose others so they are alone ?!?!?!)
i don't know.
i really just want to thrown my arms up in defeat and
meet you all there in the 6th street park and
ride on that wheel one more time
but this time instead of taking only pictures of us turning,
i would swallow.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

mississippi river

i wanted him to be in my blood.
i wouldn't be afraid of disease//
i'd wallow around in it for a few minutes and 
drink for an hour.

this isin't sexual
or maybe it is.

but fuck. 
why did he have to let the river take him? 

Wednesday, March 31, 2010


going to his website only made me miss him more.

i need to get my tattoo.
(and trust me, i don't need much but this is somethingthatisnotanoption)
last night,
a lady tried to break into our house.
i didn't sleep at all.
every sound was someone trying to come kill me
every silence was the moment right before the act.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

100 things.

it's really quiet at the hotel
and i hate money.
it hurts relationships and makes people feel small
or it makes people feel better than others
or it kills

when i was younger, i told my cousin that i thought the world would be such a better place if everything in the world cost 1 penny. everything.
that way, all that you would need would be a dollar-you could get 100 things.
and when i was younger, 100 things seemed pretty sufficient.

Monday, March 29, 2010


they are finishing the remnants of carpet on the hotel floor.
and i am breathing in the fumes...

i've always been fascinated with treehouses.
as a kid, i tried building one.
it took me 7 days just to build a window.
I have no sense of shape
or art
all that i accomplished was a wooden window frame
and a hand full of blisters.

i guess i've been drawn to escapism.

Sunday, March 28, 2010


i used to be a writer.

and sometimes i feel there is need for violence.

i've always wanted a treehouse.
i guess i've been inclined to escapism. 

Friday, March 26, 2010

get a tattoo

today i feel much better

 struck me in the chest.

made me realize that nothing is everything and everything is nothing.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

watching water.

i have a lot of anger in me 
and this i not something new
i get irritated easily
at the same time
i love hard and am loyal
especially to those who i believe are the same to me
but lately
i've been bothered by the mere sights of some faces
this sounds so 
but please know that i have good intentions
sometimes all that it takes or will ever take 
is to write it out
in order to understand it 
and fix it
and that is what i'm doing
because i don't want to be the :serious one" always,
the "mother of the fucking group"
the one who covers her bases while everyone else is living in warped speed
and there is no judgement here
but it's hard to separate yourself from those you (are a family with/makeshift family/career/"business") 
your actions become their actions and their trash becomes your trash and your fuck up becomes their fuck ups and their blood becomes your blood and your distance 
will only ruin this in the end

and i realize this 
and that is why i'm writing this

it is all within the process
or maybe it isin't. 


turning 25 was eventful
while at the same time, unnecessary. 

the day started out great-playing a live set at Dublab.
i think one day, i would love to DJ at an online radio station...
think of that
playing your favorite music nonstop-meeting artists. 

the hotel cafe show was great...a little stressful due to our car breaking down but we made it happen, with a few minutes to spare. 
Raine Phoenix came to our show and she came up to me and talked to me for about 10 minutes. She was genuine and beautiful.
A good person...

The night went from great to drama in a matter of hours. but I guess that's life , right?
Our  beautiful friends Nico and Jeanean came to hang out and we snuck up on the hotel rooftop and stared down at death.

(i think this was my favorite part of the trip-the small amount of time where it was just Dani, Jordyn, Nico, and I-and we were all on the rooftop talking about future plans and fumbling over the stars and neon signs-it was all a blur-)

Thursday, March 18, 2010

bells toll.

my dear friend 
her heart is sore
from some premature other 
those young things
those simple fingers
his shaky heart
bold veins
to be nothing more than a shell of skin 
yet to have that power to alter someone else's life

i will never get it. 

how out of millions of people,
two can meet
and break one another. 

i don't have much advice
other than that i've been there before
a few times actually
and i'm just as confused as i was then
while i was in it

my girl,
it gets better.
but it takes time.

oh, the things we do to pass the time between the wars. 

i don't regret a single day.

talking with a friend yesterday about the irrelevant needs that we consume
when really a humble meager living is when we learn most about those around us. 
i have a 7 dollar budget to live off of for the next 3 days and wow-i just spent 4.95 at Metro Espresso but i am stubborn and i need my coffee for the day 
and wow-i was only expecting to pay 2.95 for this drink but the lady at the register told me that there was a 5 dollar minimum for debit cards
so i bought a muffin that i half heartedly in love with
but when i went to sign the slip, it said 4.95. 
was she lying to me? 

i am inspired by something small,
so many things actually.
a walk around town with my headphones on yesterday started it/
Dessa is someone that I can't get enough-and it is that same fucking song
number 39 on rotate
i don't wanna stop. 
you know, when you get hooked in, on that song that has that certain mood that you want to just live in-for days, possibly weeks, months if you are lucky? 
that song, that mood
that song has that mood 
that melancholy timbre when the piano hits the half notes perfectly
and the beat is consistent enough to feel like a temporary backbone
for when you don't want to have one.
you can walk to the beat
foot and foot in sync
and then the violin comes in just enough to tug at your heart strings.

my love is violent. 
i am in love with the simple things of the day and the lack thereof.
i am also a contradiction.
i am restless and sore and always wanting more.
i think of my mother and how hard she worked and i don't want that the rest of my life.
but then again, walking around aimlessly with this song in my head sounds better than other things i could be doing.

with so many things to do before you die,
how can you not fall in love with the temporary? 

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

nost. a. l. g. ia

all stand still
for the final applause
the nostalgic ones will bow
and hum until you politely leave the room-
and our eyes, oh! our eyes
will follow your venom out
until we collapse with exhaustion and night terrors.

i want to knwo the real question...

where the fuck is Kyle Gardner and Eric Isom?

con verse.

the most simplest of things:
sleeping in 'til 10
having lunch with family
walking downtown with headphones on blast

this has been my day today and this is what i've been waiting for.

to not be distant for once
and there in the conversation
eye contact
facing east
not fumbling with my fingers
or shoelaces
or hair
but staring right at another
talking back.

Monday, March 15, 2010


dani, oh dani.
my love, my girl.
you turn 22 tomorrow.

we have known each other for 4 years now.
you're my BLOOD.

tiny girl in this crazy universe//
we've got so many things to figure out and discover together.


something strange has come over me.
i am in the middle of a collapse,
never coming back
drop dead
in my bed
face plant in the mattress-
sheets become my skin
the eyelids imprint
i'm not coming back.
i'm not coming back.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

voodoo child.

i am drowning in homework.
no anchor no anchor no anchor

and i am surrounded by tourists
who hold cameras, strapped to their chest and chips on their shoulders
all looking for the best deal the internet has to offer
and i am wearning someone else's nametag and uniform altogether-
my name is "erin" tonight..."hello".

and i have the strongest sensation to watch the 90's movie "girl",
you know the one where Clare Danes is really young and really cute
and she has sex with a dumb "rock god" and then she falls in love with him and
only after an hour and a half, realizes that she was way better than he will ever be
and so she falls in love with her platonic best friend and they end up having sex.

remember that one?

p.s. i want to wear a headdress and drink wine and listen to jimi hendrix on vinyl.
c'mon jimi, hit me with your magic.

Thursday, March 11, 2010


mornings like this, i wish i could 
go behind that cliff
the one no one knows exists
and forget about you
and forget about me
and listen to that one song that i have become obsessed with now
you know it always changes
but i think this one will stick for a while

"i don't regret a single day"

this morning the past was brought up
and i don't mind thinking about it
at all
but i don't want to remember loving her. 

Sunday, March 7, 2010


but i have things
i have things
i have things

to show you. 

no need to entertain the impossible
a slight refrain until the tempo 
becomes your pulse
and blood is blood

i am used to this
i am used to this
i've felt all of this before
i know the future like the veins in my arms

there's no letting go.

hold on hold on hold on 
don't go.
i'm a wasteland manic girl who has an easy temper and dis-repair
a leaky heart and an asylum for nightmares.

no need to entertain the rational
this world is nothing but frantics. 


hysteria hysteria hysteria

my mind's been a mess since i was cognitive-
helplessly following the words and hearts of those whom i just cannot resist. 

i told Machu today to never lose her innocence -the love for life that we once could not repress-the two of us walking down 6th street-amazed by odd shaped trees or machines that looked like characters. we would laugh at anything out of sincerity -never forcing anything-and spray paint our best friends who we were obsessed with. 

i am the advocate for your favorite false attempts in recovering your past or your lost best friend. 
i am nostalgic for good and bad reasons.
i am in the backseat of a car
driving 600 miles away from/to you. 

Monday, March 1, 2010


tonight the hotel has been a hound of sirens.
all pulling away at nothing for nothing.

i have made a new friend this week.
i would like to keep my old ones.

and we leave for LA in 3 days.
couches and hardwood floors to be our homes.

Monday, February 22, 2010

in reverse

sister crayon video debuted on LA WEEKLY today.

it's kinda strange.

Sunday, February 21, 2010


today i realized that i am going to do everything in my power to not stress out about anything that i have no control over. 
i'm in love with the Stoic idea of living life. 
i need to just live this way. 

no need to worry about anything that i can't control.

i'm going to be 25 soon.
no need for premature heart attacks. 

Wednesday, February 17, 2010


today i realized that i need to either embrace my reclusiveness or start making some friends.

Monday, February 15, 2010

a serious man

the past few days i have been hiding in my room,
secular and to a full view of the ivy frowning around at me.
it keeps growing.

last night jordyn and i went to tres hermanas and ate more food than should be allowed. it was nice to indulge (i admit) but i am ready to go to the gym tomorrow.

there are 2 small girls in the hotel lobby right now, jumping in front of a mirror. being 8 and unaware was the best.

i watched "a serious man" the other night and felt conflicted at first. i love the cohen brothers and think they are brilliant but i was not into this movie -at first. it took another day for the plot and meanings to sink in-it definatly left me thinking about the movie-so i guess it served it's purpose. but i was not thrilled at first, like i had been while watching "no country for old men" but then again, those two are nothing alike. anyway, "a serious man" is brilliant. it is complex and full of despair. it leaves you with little hope left for humanity, but it's beautiful in that it leaves you with real, permanent, sinking sadness.
none of that fairytale bullshit or glamour. it's hopeless.

ew. i sound so cynical but i'm not. i just really like the sad sometimes.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

mexican music

i'm supposed to be keeping a "relaxation journal" for the next 2 weeks for class.
we'll see how that goes.

oh, i got a 2nd job today working for the State Water Board. So wierd, a bunch of filing paperwork and scanning things. I get flexible hours and a tiny desk-it'll be interesting.

The guy who interviewed me had a Slayer tattoo. It was awesome.

what is everyone doing for Valentine's day?
In the past, i have boycotted this stupid day and have rejected it as merely an American excuse to consume...I still feel that this holiday is just that.
But...I have to admit, I want to take Jordyn out to dinner .
Just that. Simple. Mexican food. and maybe rent a movie. and watch it in bed. with ophelia.

Monday, February 8, 2010

the squid and the whale

something about roomates, i remember.
the slow, slender pulse of the boys waking up to nothing.
i never cooked
nor did they, except for the rarity of brilliance that was Aaron behind a stove.
we lived in squalor, but it was love.
and the dust piled up, the dirt and grime never left our necks
or the carpet,
but we hugged every night and fully meant it.
i don't think i will leave that house and i don't think that house will ever leave me.

i was sick and i remember you were gone and i remember i missed you and i remember climbing the stairs half mast to your bedroom and i remember crawling into your bed alone with blankets covering me from head to nose and i watched "the squid and the whale" in your bed and there was a whole lot of misery going on in that hour and a half and i missed you it ached i wanted my friend back i wanted my friend back i wanted my friend back and after the movie i went back into my bedroom and fell asleep listening to Mum.
i remember.

poor father

he's as ignorant as the past.

i have come to the realization that he and i are just not meant to be-
so after we spoke today for the first time in 4 months,
i erased both of his numbers out of my phone
in the hopes of erasing him completly.
i do not hold hate for him
i just hold nothing for him.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

david lopez jr.

my father texted me for the first time since October.
he told me to listen to "the rooster" by alice in chains.
(as if i had never heard it before)
i played along and told him "ok, i will"
and then later said "oh wow, those lyrics are intense".
i wonder how he is and where he is.
somewhere in New Mexico,
he owns a huge house
with 2 freezers, 4 cars, 4 bikes,
a dog, a wife, 4 television flat screens, 3 game consoles, and 2 boys.
living somewhere nice.
but he only cherishes the garage,
a place where he once told me-he hides out to gain some "calm".
a place where he stashes the alcohol that he is not supposed to drink,
and listens to old classic rock.

i remember the last time we spoke last year,
he was fasincated with Kurt Cobain.
he said "man, Nirvana, man...they were some pretty heavy shit"
and then he went on to explain how much of a conspiracy went behind Kurt's death-only to repeat himself until he boldy stopped speaking (for once) and then said "but what do i know. i mean, this is only what i think"

----------a memory of him.
driving in his convertible Seabring in the late 90's (i was in the 6th grade)
he wanted to play AC/DC real loudly and I wanted to listen to Brandy or Bill Withers. He wouldn't compromise-he just blasted that awful band.
----------a few years later. I was in high school and we were now in a different car, maybe his porshe. He wanted to listen to Led Zepplin and I was into it. We drove for hours to nowhere-listening to Led Zepplin, Sade, and the Deftones (who I introduced him to and whom he acutally liked).

i don't think we will ever do that again.

nostaglic as fuck. (no need to read this)

the past few days have been uninspiring.
i need to change my environment as well as my attitude about things.

i've been missing a lot of things lately.
my mother, being 12 again (and only caring about the Olympics, basketball, and Dominique Moceanu), old friends, the 6th st house, machu, lucas, jimmy-jimmy-jimmy, spray paint, my old classical guitar, my room with the 1 wondow, my old bathroom with the apple ornament, my tiny front yard, the roof, my old obsessions, my brother, the neighbor with the tiny dogs, dinner parties for friends, jessieca maranda, conversations over wine, chelsea, conversations in general (jesus!)

i'm tired of watching movies or falling asleep in front of TV.

not going to do that anymore.

this week, i'm dead to the world.

i see grandmothers and mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and uncles and cousins and lovers and children and families at work all the time.

i miss grandmothers and mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and uncles and cousins.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

dear emergen-c

day 2 at the hangeeer.
all 4 tracks are done-musically
tomorrow, the big vocal session.

of course, i'm getting sick.
work for me
atleast just hold off for one more day.
i'll lie in bed all thursday if you'll just not make me sound like a tranny tomorrow.
ok thanks.

Monday, February 1, 2010

in his attic.

i had a dream last night that jeff buckley was alive. 
he and i were not lovers but we were friends-very close friends. 
in fact, jordyn and i were at his house the day that he did actually die. 
(in my dream, you see)-
he was alive and beautiful as ever.
he wore a flannel red shirt and black jeans, his white undershirt was stained by coffee that he had had the night before. 
he was wearing some sort of leather necklace and his wrists were strong. 
i remember holding them in some brief embrace-where he grabbed my arm to look me in the face and say
"thanks for coming over you guys-
i just didn't want to be alone tonight. 
let's go hang out in the attic and listen to Indian records-I have so many new ones that I think you will enjoy".
and we climbed up the ladder (he, jordyn, and I) and sat in a room with candles and carpet and Fateh Ali Khan and lied down on our backs and watched the ceiling. 
I was not high.
He wanted to be. 
Jordyn was silent-all crystal eyed. 

After a few hours, we had to go downstairs. 

I don't care to recall what happened next but in the end, he was gone and 
i woke up crying because it felt like death all over again. 


first day of feb. 
the shortest month will prevail!

woke up to jordyn having a severe toothache. 
i wish i could magically heal her. 
i hate seeing her in pain.

day 1 at the Hangar to record the last 4 songs
for our first album, "bellow".


Wednesday, January 27, 2010


i disappoint.
it's not that i'm ok with this statement, that i am able to so easily admit it
but it's in my blood.
i come from a long line of disappointers.
and i'm just trying to be real with myself.

there has been a few people lately that i have disappointed by not being able to be available for them. for this, i do sincerely apologize.
but i try to go with what i can do and
so for this, i can sleep at night.
i learned a long time ago that there are plenty of other issues to keep you awake at night-
and this one just can't be one of them.

if this sounds harsh at all, i'm not trying to be.
this is a blog and i'm just venting.

nothing is the end of the world.
and my time is not that important.

Monday, January 25, 2010

fuck egos

"accomplistments are endless when you don't care about who gets the credit"

this is what i want my life to center around.
this simple, basic idea that acknowledgment is not needed.
that no social response to what you are doing is desired.
if i can understand this and live this,
no one can or will ever get to me.
no egos/fuck them.
i'm so tired of them.
the ruthless tougne/the poor man's neediness-he craves attention.
it is for his survival.
i don't want that.
i refuse to become like him.
and yet, i need him around.

fuck egos.
become faceless.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010


today has been one of those days where the brink of tears has been a constant. 

the past two nights i have fallen asleep watching the royal tennenbaums. 
richie is my favorite because he not only tries to commit suicide (such a noble act) but he also wears the same thing every day (that is, until he is forced to change into that hospital gown).

margot is of course beautiful because she is mysterious, quiet, private, and thin.
 you want to hate her but you never will. 


 i'd like 
to shut the world
one eye
at a time.
lucas, where are you? 
somewhere, fumbling down the sidewalks of Seattle. 

i'd like to make some grand change in my life but i couldn't tell you where to really start.
i could start running, drink more water, eat more vegetables, drink less coffee, read more, write more, sing more, hide out even more, talk less, listen more, listen less, talk more, draw, learn a language, get in a fight, watch more documentaries, paint my nails, cut my hair, go swimming, dance in the rain,

i need to do something. 


i don't do well having nothing to do. 
hours of free time makes me freak out and question my life.
i don't know why.
it's always been like this. 
i wish i could smile and read a book and bask in the jazz that is playing right now in this coffee shop but instead i feel restless and anxious.
it's probably because i have to go work tonight and all i have to do is sit around and wait in silence. 
working at a hotel is anxiety central. 

ok. i will try to focus on something positive. 

the man behind the register looks like my friend Jeffrey. 
He has a tattoo of some sort on his right forearm. 
I can't tell what it is. 
But he has a gentle face. 

Monday, January 18, 2010

saint MLK.

martin luther king was my hero as far back as i can remember.
in the 3rd grade, i spent all of my lunch money on an autobiography of his at the book fair.
all of the other kids made fun of me because they were into Goosebumps.
i read about him and his story stuck with me.

it's strange to think that 45 years ago, he was here.
walking down the sidewalks of middle class america.
singing in the households of the poor.
fighting against the ignorant.

i don't think there will ever be another one like him.
today, violence seems to be the main message.
and even if there is someone preaching non-violence,
there will never be another so graceful,
such a saint.

mlk, i praise you because you really were someone that not only spoke-but you lived your beliefs. you thought differently and because you were a leader, you sadly were killed.
it's unfortunate...anytime someone instills fear in the ignorant-they are murdered.

Haiti Benefit Show

i'm setting up a benefit show for Haiti.
Feb. 19th @ Luigi's FunGarden.

please come.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

good god//can you please save us all?

i have weak wrists. 
i have dreams that one day they are just going to fall off. 
limbs with no ends-hanging there without any explanation. 
no words will come out of my mouth then.
i'll just stare at you with some stoic expression-knowing that there was nothing more that i could do to prevent this. 

underoath-i don't care that you are a christian band. 
i also don't care that you could be labeled as "screamo" by others.
for some reason, you have struck a chord with me
and i am obsessed with you. 
all i want to do today is listen to your one song and cry/scream/laugh
and sleep. 

Saturday, January 16, 2010


the studio is quite right now. 
i wish it would stay this way. 

Friday, January 15, 2010

no cloth for heart.

i'm not usually one to dwell on anxious feelings.
wait. hold on. i guess i am. 
but man, i swear i've tried to let things go but there is something that is not and has not went away-and fuck it, i'm keeping to it. 
i think that we tend to try to let things go without following our instincts.
i can't do it this time.
don't know why. 
maybe soon life will show me exactly why i've been holding onto this lingering feeling-a big slap in the face-a kick to the gut-a heavy tear.
either way, i can't care.
i'd like to live like Epictetus- the stoic who refused to let any outside force get to him.

stone for hands//no cloth for heart//humming silently the purpose.

it's mid afternoon and we are at a friend's house in oakland. 
there is a boy that looks like john horton named demetrius. 
he's wearing a mickey mouse sweater and just smoked out nick and dani. 
i like his smile. 
there are 3 couches in this living room along with 3 bikes and trash everywhere on the dining room table. 
demetrius is killing men on the big screen//some war video game on xbox.

i miss jordyn but it feels fine. 
my eyes can hardly stay open. 
i am so tired i'm not even hungry anymore. 

oakland is calm today. 


the boys are asleep on a black leather couch 
and dani has been playing the drums for nearly an hour. 
i wish i could rest my eyes.
i think dani and i are going to go sleep in one of the sound booths. 

it's not going away

i don't want to not trust. 
oh, the simple reality of what being human can actually mean. 
no note that i can sing will destroy this unsettling feeling-
gnawing away until the honesty decays. 

i say it's truth. 

"and my brother lays upon the rocks/
he could be dead/he could be not/he could be you"

you see. 
i can foretell the future. 

bass line//repeat

i feel like a zombie.

i just want to sleep. 

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

oh, haiti.

the internet and cable at my house has been cut off due to insufficient funds.
because of this, i have been completly unaware of all that is going on/not going on in the world.
a bit vulnerable due to this, i walk out into the unknown horror/sadness/ deaths have occured.
i know nothing.
all i know is the book that i am reading-and it's all about some writer in the 50's.
all i know is genet's evil, thick cigars, and homosexual writers who are banned for their erotic content.

until that is, i fumble on the internet and discover that Haiti has suffered, Jay Reatard has died, and Pat Robinson is a fucking asshole-

i think i would almost rather stay buried inside.


another death-jay reatard.

people, stop dying. please.

Monday, January 11, 2010


everything is gonna work out.


there is a deep buzzing in the hotel lobby.
it's been going on for about 4 hours now.
i don't know where it's coming from.
it could be annoying but i find it almost comforting.

i have tomorrow off.
it will consist of la bou coffee/practicing bowie/ playing with ophelia/watching bootleg films/interview with jenny/breakfast with machu (?)

keeping some sort of order in written form.
i don't know why i write in this.

Saturday, January 9, 2010


what is the use of the human ego?
i do not care about all of your lessons that you've read on sociology.
doctrines or graduate programs, pages of literature, dismal language that you worship.
human experience is what will best teach us.
you have a frail ego and i, a frail heart.
what to make of that?
one of us will always remain shattered then-and so far, it's always been some rough start and/or constant fight with one another.
i'm tired.

Freud, if you are still around these parts-
tell me,
how can one lose that distorted sense of self?


flaw of mine: i seldom stick to things that i want to.
why: because i worry about other's feelings.
outcome: anger + confusion, allowing others to trample over what i believe is right because i'd much rather not have any drama.

change: this.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

life, as in now.

4th day working and there is nothing exciting or inspiring about this lobby.
but i'm trying to write anyway.
this month has been going by so fast and even though we are only about 8 days into it, i want to try to live each day slowly and not take it for granted.

i turn 25 this year (in about 2 months) and i'm a bit numb about this.
i know that it's not terribly old and even if it is-i should embrace it (like Maya Angelou says-ha) but this year is looming over me.

-in other news, Leon sent me a text today with the picture of a dead bird next to a coffee cup. I'm not sure what it all means.

-Jordyn is on a fur coat kick and I love it.

-Ophelia likes to chew dirty clothes late at night

-and I think that Chelsea Handler is one of the funniest women alive.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

new love

you are my new fun steps.

(in) reverse video

ro b ert as croft.

stole this from chelsea

favorite songs this year: "stars"-warpaint// "out from under"-voices voices//"mojo pin"-jeff buckley (never gets old)// (i kinda hid from music this year)

favorite movie you saw this year: msnbc documentaries.

fave websites: (ha)

favorite book you read this year: jean genet biography//"another country" by james baldwin

favorite place you visited this year: portland with jessie

a really good memory: getting opehlia//2nd christmas with jordyn//first valentine's day with jordyn and luigi's pizza and beer//tour with sc fam + wolf//meeting nico and jenean//meeting paul at manimal//la bou mornings

something you learned this year: that good things can happen. and that bad things can happen too.

something new!: man i mal.

item of clothing most worn in 2009: black pirates hat + green thrift store old man sweater.

favorite horoscope!: i have no idea.

favorite image: la bou double iced espresso with vanilla + low fat milk

biggest challenge for you this year: learning to become organized and business oriented.

who was your muse?: jordyn + jean genet.

quote to sum up yr year: "but i'm not afraid to go, but it goes so slow" -j. buckley. (next tat)

5,000 dollars

last night at the hotel, a drunk man threatened to attack me,
for no reason other than he couldn't understand himself.
i felt sorry for him but at the same time, i wanted to see him fall for his actions-so i called the police.
sadly, they came too late and he escaped.
his name was david bevington.
he had 5,000 dollars in his right hand pocket.
(he was a business man)

tonight has been pretty uneventful.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010


we filmed the video for "(in) reverse" yesterday with an amazing photographer named Robert Ascroft and his crew from 3star productions. Needless to say, everything was very surreal and legit. A crew of 5 came out to the Georgetown woods to film little ol' sc kids-there was a fog machine, wind machine, lights, poles, metal things, boxes, vans, and all that crazy stuff.
surreal. too crazy.

anyway, i am so grateful for the experience.
even though the crew was/is very professional (i mean, they shoot Mariah Carey, VOGUE models, Brad Pitt, etc etc) they were so down to earth and not intimidating at all (once we all met one another). Working with them really made me "trust" LA and allowed me some hope afterall for the city. They could have been assholes (just because they have an overwhelming repuation) but they were some of the sweetest people we have met.

I must admit, I am a bit intimidated to see the overall video. It should be finished with editing in about 3 weeks. I had to wear makeup (for lighting puropses) and I wore Jordyn's fur vest...and some amazing (yet very unlike me normally ) boots-...ah. I was definatly out of my comfort zone but at the same time, it was fun to try something new and be a bit out of my element. The boys and Dani wore all black and for the most part were able to wear more of their style. So, saying that-that is the only thing that I am a little hesitant about. It was fun and a great experience and I really hope that this video portrays the song. I believe it will.

Everything lately has been a bit new for us (the band). We are not really used to anything (other than playing music) so I guess it's all a bit overwhelming, but in a good way. I just want to be productive with music.

Sorry for the rambling but I've never shot a video before so I'm a bit apprehensive. I don't want to come across as something that I am not. I'm not a very dramatic person or flashy. But i'm excited for the video because it challenged me .