i can't belive me and my sister get along so poorly. in less than eight hours of hanging out last night we've gone back to not talking to each other. it seams like anytime we are around each other for more than a few hours, and a few drinks, she starts yelling at me about something. i can't undersand why two grown ups like ourselves have such a hard time getting along. why the fuck does it have to be like this.

see, she came into town last night and i picked her up from the airport after i got out of work. she had said she wanted to see what i normaly do on a thursday night so we went down to ybor. she got some pizza and than we watched some bands play at the new world, my friends from new york Rahim happen to be playing last night, so i was pretty stoked (i thought the show was next week). so we skiped between that show and the castle, for more drinks and dancing. she met alot of my roomates and every thing seamed to be going pretty well, outside of that fact that she likes to boss me around like i'm a little kid. she's treated me that way for as long as i can remember so i'm pretty good at just brushing it off.

anyways, 3:00 rolls around and all the bars close. she says shes hrungy so i drive her to the circle k and she got some shity gastation food and for some reason, right out side of my house, in my parked car we start fighting becuase i don't really get along with our grandparents,  i'm pretty much the "black sheep" of our family.
i said something to the point of "they can go fuck them selves if they want to treat me the way they do bassed on that fact that i had weird hair as a kid and have tattos and don't come off as normal or whatever " and maggie, my sister, pretty much lost it. she screamed at me for ten mintues while i was stuck in my car. i tolled her she can fuck off too and that i was taking her to our mom's house in st.pete (about 30 mintues away) and she said no, and i'm still not sure why, and went to sleep on my couch.

so i drove to st.pete anyways, dropped her shit off at my mom's and spent the rest of my night in my friend amber's bed. she called me like 80 million times while i was sleeping but i just turned my phone off. i'm done with that shit. if its not one thing she's yelling at me about its something else. last time this shit happened was about two years ago when i was visiting her and she wouldn't stop about how i was "wasteing my life". i can't rashion with her so i don't see the point of us speeking to each other. its fucking stupid that a brother and sister can't get along.

god, i love my family, but i can't stand this shit.

well, i got around to cleaning my room and now almost all my records are off the floor.





i'm totally stoked.

i'm sitting around drinking cheep beer, injesting smoke, and killing time. i thought it'd share photos of a few friends of mine...     this is jared playing guitar, jared playes guitar real nice and spacey some times, we were in some indie rock band back in the day...he has two delay pedials and i think thats just fine
this is gorge and lura, i really really have a big crush on lura and sometimes i get upset that she likes gorge and not me, but thats really stupid and childish, i do my best to be happy for them, because they are extreamly awesome people who's company i really really enjoy. gorge plays bass in november foxtrot whsikey and lura played keybords and sang in issabella but they just played their last show saturday..
this is ian, hes one of my roomates, the door right next to mine, hes always at his girlfriend's apartment and we hardly ever hang out anymore, but last night i some how convinced him to go out to ybor with me. he used to dress real pretty but as of late hes been looking alot like nate, the guitarist from the murder city devils, and i'm alright with that too. this is kelly, she works as a bartender at the orpheum, she brings my drinks so that pretty much makes her an angle in my eyes. we drunkenly made out in the rain once and as far as i can rember shes the only girl i've kissed in a downpour so that kinda makes her special in my heart...
this is jovan, daryl, and molli sue, jovan and i often spend out monday nights drinking at different bars around town and talking all night long, the topics run the gabit from politics to pop clutre and are always enjoyable, daryl's just about the gayest guy i know, and hes super bubbly, like, all the time, once he knocked down my roomate thomas in the middle of a fight and i thought it was really funny, i'm glad i know daryl, and for molli sue, well, i don't know her much but i'm sure she's a swell person, her and thomas are pretty close so she must be nice...
and lastly here is marissa and myself just about a year ago at the skate part of tamp's anniversary show they have every year, smoke or fire, my friends from richmond played and when the free kegs of PBR ran out i walked back stage and drank from the kegs they had for the bands, i almost got kicked but luck this band the soviets was there and i had played a show with them a few months before and they keeped me safe and liqured up, later this night i ate pot brownies with roger, teh bass player from less than jake and saw gorge's brothers band play, it was a real nice night...as far as i can rember...
so thats it, i'm gonna keep listing to old protest song until i've gotta go to work...i'm not spell checking this and i know i'm REAL bad with gramer, sorry...  

i wake up, look in the bathroom mirror and ask myself "when did my hair start looking like...this?" i page through milk crates of records while smoking a cigarette and wounder "when did i start listing to ambient post-rock and folk bands?" i knock over empty beer bottles next to a jug of scotch and a sea of make shift ashtrays and try to remember why i drink so much. i stare at my futon and a wisp of memory like smoke of the girl that convinced me to start sleeping with it flat passes through my brain, out of focus and distant.

where did those nice pillows i had go?
what happened to all my books?
who took all these pictures?
when did i lose all my movies?
why don't i talk to my family anymore?

have i closed to many doors? am i fucked for life? when did i make this wrong turn? was it always like this...?

last night kind of like spitting played for pretty much me and me alone.

dear enterprise rental car;

terribly sorry about about attempting to jump the vehicle you so graciously lent to me. i didn't mean to crack the window or make the driver's side door not open properly. please don't be too mad.


sincearly, hank!

I was having such a good day yesterday. I am sick of pretending I’m a grown up, I am sick of being reserved and quite. I’m so afraid of falling back into my old routine of being depressed, I fight it all day long. I smile so much it for the most part really sticks. God, I act like such a child. Lapse, that’s all, at least that’s what I tell myself.

I’m so dumb, I go out and see my friends sitting at the bar and something inside of my goes wrong. What the fuck? I’m so over being like that I tell myself. I really need to pull emotions together, smooth things out, and yeah, maybe I should give into more of my emotionally distraught side so I can callous back over and fall back into a positive life smiles of jokes and smiles.

Fuck this, I need to go on a vacation.

my eyesight still blotchy from staring at the unsheathed 120 watt bulb that resides above my bed, in my small room littered with LPs in stolen milk crates and discarded dirty laundry. cellos and violins play out of my laptop’s speakers as a car horn yells outside my window for a second time. I hear a woman’s voice, a neighbor? i’ve got no clue.

i live about five minutes outside of Ybor city, near the heart of downtown tampa, florida. almost everyday, while i drive to work, if i’m conscious enough, i find myself imaging my city burning. the haitian ghetto i live in first, sparking up cheaply constructed homes of the poor like books of lit matches, then it spreads with the turn of my car’s wheels like wild fire. the highway i’ve spent far to much of my life on, stuck in gridlock embarked on pointless journeys to no where hardly resembles the high speed roadways of its better years. now, after all my distraction its a charred out black mess. the tar beneath the asphalt has warmed and is bubbling, the concert sections slowly slips like melting ice cubes on a kitchen counter. i pull the wheel of my car hard to the right and find my exit. the flames than engulf busch boulevard, turning gas stations, chain restaurants, drive bars, and those big stupid theme parks i pass everyday into ashes. my ride to work becomes the valley of death and i invasion myself as the soul survivor of this nightmare, doomed or privileged to be the last body to tread this patch of earth. my out look on this trail of tears is generally based on how much i drank the night before and the brand of hangover said actives have given birth to.

i’d drive to my job just to see it in ruins, along with everything else i hate in this world.

one day we’ll all be dancing on each-other's graves and giving thanks to all races well run, because in the end, just passing the finish line is reward enough no matter how well you faired.