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Andrew
Name: Andrew
Website: Website
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Back February 2010
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Thanks for actually coming onto my journal and getting off your friends page for once...
You'll see some weird style changes and stuff on here as I'm changing crap around. thanks, digital design... you ARE worth something!
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Fire Eye'd Boy
Lights, Camera, Transaction
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I don't have many memories of my Grandfather. Those I still possess are good ones. Warm, somehow surreal memories, blurred by time and tinged with the sketchiness of haphazard recollection, but still there, and somehow the truth of them is more concrete than the actual occurrence of events.

 

It was a sunset for the ages: when the sun is no longer the intense bright white-out of high noon but instead a fiery incandescent orb on the horizon, seemingly about to crash into the earth before being swallowed whole by the hills surrounding our home. The sky above had lost all trace of the brilliant blue of a July afternoon and had morphed into transcendent shades of pink and orange that faded into inky blackness above. I sit on the wooden table in our backyard, watching the fireflies come out and listening to the crickets sing softly with grass in between my toes. The air is still. Time, it seems, has stopped. The reverie is broken only by my Grandfather easing open the screen door and sitting quietly beside me in time. We are alone in the universe.

 

Grandfather (never Grandpa or Granddad, always Grandfather) says nothing for what feels like an eternity as the lightning bugs waltz across the lawn. Grandfather turns to me eventually and says:

 

“Andrew, what are you going to be when you grow up?”

 

This question never struck me as being odd at the time, or even upon further reflection in later years. Only now does the distinction of “going to be” versus “want to be” become apparent, as though he has some knowledge of the turmoil, hesitation, and lack of motivation that will come to define my adolescence. Perhaps he sees himself in me (though how could he? I was four.), and perhaps his phrasing means nothing at all, but in this one instant his language becomes both symbolic and seared into my memory for all the time to come.

 

While other kids at that age would undoubtedly have said something like “a dinosaur” or “a fireman”, I instead answered his question with the first and most natural thing that came into my head.

 

I'm going to be a storyteller.”

 

It is my own language this time which surprises me. I don't say “author”, or “writer”, or “novelist”, or “Richard Scarry” but “storyteller”, the essence of which I couldn't possibly grasp at that age. Or maybe, perhaps, I had grasped it, and only in later years have I perhaps forgotten the meaning as I lost myself in books and television and sensory delights.

 

He asked me to tell him a story, and I did. I invented wildly, weaving a tale of pirates and dragons, of strange and wonderful things. And it was this act that made my answer the truth. Not an author or a novelist or any other connotations and perversions, but simply, truly, a storyteller. I am not a novelist, and I am not a millionaire. But I am still a storyteller.

iPod.: William Basinski

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Read more... )

I decided to write about a dream I had. Thanks, Stephen King, for filling my head with stuff like this.

iPod.: Hún Jörð...-Sigur Rós

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I heard this song for the first time like... years ago. I could never find out who it was by, though. I heard it again on KEXP this morning and I was like YUSS

so here you go... happy friday. :D

the video's kinda anime-like I guess, but w/e


Mint Royale- Show Me featuring Pos from De La Soul


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When will we have sleeping logicians, sleeping philosophers? I would like to sleep, in order to surrender myself to the dreamers, the way I surrender myself to those who read me with eyes wide open; in order to stop imposing, in this realm, the conscious rhythm of my thought....


Sullen and bored the kids stay
And in this way wish away each day
Stoned in the mall the kids play
And in this way wish away each day


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iPod.: Porcupine Tree

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this song rips apart my insides and rearranges them into melancholy pretty pictures

"...and get real pissed, and go home, and have a fight..."

iPod.: R U Still In 2 It?--Mogwai

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i swear all i ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever believed in was all of us together all along
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fumpr: Unlimited image hosting.
fump your photos for free! Unlimited image storage.</a>
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Deerhunter-Microcastle

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=7ETEH3B0


Check this band out, Sr. Klein. Indie-noise-punk extravaganza.
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How are you guys feeling about the election? It just hit me, all of a sudden... Just the fact that every piece of news that I read or coverage I see has been focused on TOMORROW. In 48 hours, we'll know, right? Kinda mind-boggling.

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