Ghost Town's Waltz

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I love you boo, be with me forev’s

http://anangryblog.tumblr.com/   <-That’s her right thar,sexy and intellegent yusss!!!!!!!

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Seriously Alicia is the best girlfriend/lover/goddess. I love her so much. She’s awesome. I’m glad we’ve been together for so long. It’s been the loveliest two years. 

I love you sweetheart!

I’ve always admired the artist double life. The whole young adult/struggling artist works at restaurant or whatever thing, was always fine to me. However, given these days expectations and general high amounts of judging, it’s not too well to be seen or heard of in that sense. To be real, I won’t say I don’t care. It bothers me that it’s an issue though, that people who want to do crazy ass law school for six years of their life, don’t get what they deserve, but hey, that’s not what this is about. 

This is about Jazz. Yeah. I want to play Jazz music and have an apartment with a roommate and work at a cafe. I want to learn Jazz and music thoroughly, like how in all those serious romances, the woman gets her body explored. That’s what I want. So, next time you ask me about, “How are you going to get a high paying job making music?” I’m going to look at you like you’re the most retarded person. Shit. I want to play music, go fuck a rooster. 

I want to study the forms of music, and experience it. I want to smoke like it’s the most insignificant thing in the world and pass it, laying down some foundation for this jam session at hand. Drink some tea with friends and talk about politics and social issues and love and sex and the fact that we don’t get paid enough. With all this at some point with all my musical experience I’ll compose this amazing work, my Magnum Opus, and shut everyone up for good. 

Yeah, and by everyone I mean myself the most. All this nonsense pressure, I don’t want it. Shit, after college, I’m not looking for that six figure salary, I don’t want that heavy responsibility shit. Nope. An apartment, a cat, my bass, and if I’m lucky, a girlfriend. Oh and a job at a cafe or a deli or something, so I can buy things and pay my rent. 

But office work? Six figures? Lying to myself and getting some degree in something I don’t want? Not my future.

• They are in your ear. I don’t know how to feel about that.
• I can hear myself chew and crunch delicious things
• If I breathe or cough, it’s really loud.
• I can’t really sing and listen to music properly, because my voice is all fucked by the internal echo.
• when it’s under the strap of my messenger bag, it’s guaranteed to fall out.
• when it’s over the strap, it’s guaranteed to fall out when I have to do the shit load of maneuvering to take the bag off.
• They’re easier to lose.
• They don’t look as cool.
• People ask to borrow them. People who don’t clean their ears properly.
• Satan wears them. (Plus/Negative, you decide) 

I watch this show almost every morning, and it’s a great show. Yeah.

But, every time he has his personal cooking segments you hear things like,

“Salt.”

“Pepper.”

“Stir Fry.”

“Baste.”

And I think, you must have felt like an ass to have sit down and said all these things at once, or every time you do it, saying things like,

“Roast, 40 minutes”

“Rosemary.”

“Garilc.”

“Cayenne.”

Seriously. But good show though, good show.