Thursday, June 25, 2009


I realize that I have neglected this blog for far too long. I apologize, please forgive me. I promise to write something worthy of reading in the near future. Literary genius smiles on those who pursue it. In the mean time, as is my tradition, I give you a song for your time.

Move For Me - Kaskade

Friday, June 5, 2009

Here's to the Crazy Ones

Here's to the crazy ones.
The misfits. The rebels.
The troublemakers. The round
pegs in the square holes - the
ones who see things differently.
They're not fond of rules and
they have no respect for
the status quo. You can praise
them, disagree with them,
quote them, disbelieve them,
glorify or vilify them.
About the only thing that you
can't do is ignore them.
Because they change things.

- Jack Kerouac

back to the past's idea of the future

Ever wondered what the future of fashion will be? I know I have. Personally, I think we'll all be wearing duct tape. But that's just me. Ever wonder what they thought in the 1930's about today?

Thursday, June 4, 2009

If I could describe......

Slowly I tie up my laces while I inhale my favorite smell: freshly cut sod. As I finish tying my last bow I sit for a second and reflect upon my day; and thus my therapy begins. In one swift motion I am suddenly on my feet. I take a few steps, relishing the feeling of each cleat burrowing its way into the moist grass. My walk becomes a jog and then transforms into a full gallop. The wind tickles my face and my hair dances in it-in perfect rhythm with my every stride. As the first drops of sweat begin to bead on my forehead-I realize it has been a while. I know better than to skip my therapy. My heart beats faster and faster in my chest. I feel numb. I hear nothing. Perfect silence has enveloped me. This is my sanctuary. This hallowed plot of ground is my salvation from the hassles of life. SUDDENLY I realize that my friend has been yelling my name. The time has come. Game time! The hair on the back of my neck rises, and my body feels violently cold. A shiver goes down my spine as the the referee blows the whistle. I feel suddenly ALIVE. Fire is in my veins and lightning is in my eyes. This game was made for me! And I. I was made for this game. My opponent thinks he has a chance. He has been miss-informed.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Dead Weak

At Cal Poly the week before finals is called "Dead Week." It is supposed to be a week where you are doing nothing but studying for finals. Unfortunately every quarter I've spent at Cal Poly I have only felt dead/weak at the end of this week. Teachers are merciless slave drivers who somehow think it is humane to assign homework and tests up until finals. Sorry for my rambling, but someone needs to hear me vent. Why not you?

Here is a song for your time:
One eskimO - Givin' up (Don Diablo Remix)