Exploitation of my masses these determined lower classes and idealistic crashes into me. Why have you decided that somehow you are better than all of us you consider your power to have some great importance when all the greatness comes from us. OUr hands and our minds you bloodsucking fiend. You are the reason we struggle and you hold us back. You judge when we have commited no crime. We create one canvas and we use one brush to breathe our life through. You take our air and make fire that warms no hearts and touches no minds. You take something and quantify it's beauty with a number. You cannot give life a dollar sign. You cannot tell me that my work is less or more. You satisfy only yourself you cannot understand what this means yet you will proudly hang me on your wall. You will show your 'friends' over cocktails your 'art' and explain to them it's value when you have no fucking clue. You have yet to bleed for 60 hours and you have yet to know what might happen with that blood. You crave a connection but you have isolated and removed yourself from what you desire. You think art is to show to please to embrace but this is the act of cutting this is slicing open the skin and you have yet to touch this flesh. You know not the smell of agony and overwhelming defeat. You assume that you feel when all you know is longing for touch. It can't feel you, you fuck! It won't respond to you. You can fill your home with paintstokes and carvings but you are cold to the warmth within. I despise your ignorance for what you pretend to believe. I was fooled by your cool knowledge and your trendy moves but now I see them coming. You walk on lead bricks hoping that they will turn to gold after each of your steps. We are not your prize we are not your army of expression to make millions. Our voices are pure and you struggle to speak. So bathe in your exploitation and feel the lava that is intolerance because I will deal with you no longer. Your cards have turned up short and you will pay the house.

kim deal is fucking hot! I'm sitting here listening to the pixies and considering masturbation. I had a dream this morning that I was playing music in the jam room and people kept coming in and trying to play but I would have to stop to show them how to plug in. It was frustrating since I really didn't want to play with other people anyway. Had Kim Deal walked in it would have been a completely different story but alas she did not.

I'm buying my plane tickets for San Diego today. Flying out of Louisville is $150 cheaper than Cincinnati. Guess where I'll be departing from. I did a quick search to see if anything is going on in SD while I'm there but I couldn't find what I was looking for. I'm really looking forward to recording a bunch of music with Al. I have so many music ideas that I think he'll understand and work on with me. It's been really hard to find people who want to play the music I have running through my veins. Most just want to play punk rock or metal. Is it that much to ask for some damn cello. I've asked people if they know anyone who plays cello I can record with and they ask me why. WHY??? Cause it's fucking intense that's why. I know Al has a keyboard that will do everything my heart desires.

I've been working so much. It's really good though. Every day when I go to the airport I think about how in a month I'll be getting on a plane. It's well worth it. Oh and that whole rent and food thing too. Summer seems to be passing by without any sunshine for me. I'm off today though and I'm planning on going down to Sawyer point to play volleyball this evening.

I've been reading as many short stories as possible lately. I really enjoy the format and I'll be writing some shorts myself in the next few months. if anyone knows any good short story writers I should check out let me know.

I've been thinking about people and places that I've been with and left. Some of them I have no hope of being able to find and some I'd rather not see again but I'm still curious. Jailbait Judy, Naitha, Where are the lou reeds, Amney, Alejandro, Rick, Feather, Amy Jones, Nice guy Eddie, L, Lolli, Raven, and there are others who's names allude me at the moment. Where are these people, what

I slept well last night. I've been dreaming about the beach. I want to feel that so bad. I'm taking things slow as of late and trying to make good desisions. Making good choices is becoming very important to me.

I've been talking about foundation and how it works, what it means. I'm going to be spending a lot more of my time working and a lot less time thinking about it. Maybe that's why I've been in such a slump lately, I need to stop thinking so damn much and just do what I need to do. Do it.

Facism Now!!!

woah. I've been working at the airport and this pub called Ida's Seat. It's so fucking easy and I'm making 9bones an hour. I broke up with Melanie. I've been drunk for the past week straight. I'm very confused about shit right now.

I've been trying to write with no results. It's depressing to pick up a pen and have nothing to write. I've been doing stuff. Working mostly though so that I can get out to San Diego. That's pretty much been the only thing on my mind recently is how I need to go chill with Al and look at the ocean.

I'll be trying to write over the next week and hopefully have something to share. I have a phone at my apartment now so if you want to call me send me an e-mail and I'll give you my number.

Everyone think good thoughts about my friends Nick and Gina. They are out on the road and I just want them to stay safe.
L...O...V...E...