Last night in Schreibstuck rehearsals I added ballet to my repertoire.

You’re not punk and I’m telling everyone. Save Your Breath I never was one.
I’m a flirt. I think I’m hyper enough as it is. I ain’t very good but I get practice by myself… What’s so funny about that?
I forgot my one line so I just said what I felt. “It’s stupid that we get paid to jump around. It’s what I live for, I hope I never touch the ground.”
Now that the sun has gone ahead and gone down I’ll put my halo on my shelf And head on out to raise some hell. Cause somewhere there’s a drink with my name on it and we learned more from a 3 minute record than we ever learned in school. I’m gonna shout until I’m hoarse, drink until I can’t see, laugh until I can’t breathe, up here we’ll be taller than the city. Shout at the night, raise a fist to life, forget if your shoes are shined, if only for just one night. Get knocked down and then I get back up. (Live your heart and never follow.) I take on everything standing up standing tall. (Live your heart and never follow.)
Baby everything dies baby that’s a fact. One day we will die and our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea. Maybe everything that dies someday comes back. But for now we are young let us lay in the sun and count every beautiful thing we can see.
The sign at the fork in the road says straight on.
I’m coloring outside your guidelines. I was passing out when you were passing out your rules.
The sign at the fork in the road says straight on.
Don’t follow. Lead a life the best you know.
The sign at the fork in the road says straight on.

At Night
Play. Spin. Drink. Dance. Sleep.
Make a C within a C
I work at night too
Fill up the glass. Drink it down.
Sleep hard, too quickly, not well.

When you’re fucked up
Black out! Black out! Go!
Eat cheetos, watch Battle Star
Edward James Olmos.
No idea who that is
He’s Admiral Adama.

When you’re alone
I jerk off, rock out
Hear the end of the song. Done.
Pick my nose; often.
Sometimes I pull out nose hairs
If it doesn’t hurt, I sneeze.

When you don’t know what to do
Think too hard. Too long.
Let my stomach take control
Lean against the wall
Indecisive decision
And become oddly quiet

At a party
Stop start sit start stop
If it’s lame, I won’t stay long
If it’s not I stay
Hit the bar fast and often
Ice breakers are lame by me

Around family
Make mom and dad laugh
I wished they understood me
Duck & weave & duck
Get a lecture, play scrabble
Stay longer than I want to

Relationship
Unconditional
Try harder just try harder
Ask her about day
Hug. Kiss. Laugh. Food together.
Coffee and lazy mornings.

In the car
Fiddle with your dial
It’s real cool to have a stick
Dancing while sitting
Envying the seat warmers
Fucking hate everybody

At Work
Check private email
Wear nothing but boxer shorts
Don’t forget a straw
Why, for my smoothie?
Sarcasm… I don’t drink them.

Only Riskay can harmonize the phraase Smell Yo Dick with such emotion.

Yeh, that’s the OFFICIAL VIDEO.

KIDZBOP!
Here’s the kid that taught me the Chicken Noodle Soup. In case you didn’t know, it’s the dance that has kids rainin’ and clearin’ all over town. I have to do it for Schreibstuck.

I also have the pleasure of Walking It Out. Anyone gots advice for how to Walk It Out without looking like the whitest boy on the block? Cause I think I do right now.

Review : DISCO, FUCKING, DYING.
DISCO – Remember to make your 3 dances distinct and stand out from each other. Vary the rhythms. In FUCKING, I like what you were doing before. You aren’t bored. But you aren’t into it either. Remember to bring your arm up and on your face sooner. DYING was perfect.

This is my life.

I’m gonna be… 19 forever… yes I am… 19 forever… I’m gonna be… 19 forever… 19 forever…
No matter what you say… 19 forever… I’m gonna stay… 19 forever… This is Myyyyyyyyy life… 19 forever… 19 forever…
Yes I am… 19 forever… You better believe!… 19 forever… 19 forever…

That’s the chorus of a song playing at the coffee shop. And it’s totally obvious that the guy singing is so nowhere near 19 anymore.
During the last chorus he shouts ONE MORE TIME! And then the song ends. I’m not complaining. I definitely didn’t want to hear the chorus one more time. But I feel like if you announce that there will be a “one more time”, there should be. Unless you are hilariously ironic which this douche nozzle clearly is not.
Also, there are so many better years to be forever. 19 is ok I guess. It is the last year as a teenager. Woo.

Maybe 19 is the new 30.

When I was a boy I had this song on a tape. It’s what I would wake up and dance around the house to every morning.

My hair is growing out and my calick is in full effect…

I EXIST.
I do not exist in Castles
I am not composed of Religion
I am not composed of Jewelry
I do not exist in Riches
I am not composed of hopelessness
I am not composed of Anger
I do not exist as that person that nit picks the bill at the end of the night
I am not composed of motorcycles
I do not exist in hippie shit
I do not exist in fearlessness
I am not composed of tighty whiteys
I do not exist in the meaning of life
I do not exist in promises broken
I am not composed of Flawlessness
I do not exist in disregard
I do not exist in A box
I do not exist in 2nd life
I am not composed of tanning salons
I am not composed of cologne
I am not composed of weaponry
I am not composed of hatred

PHASE 2 :

Take a true story. Chop it all up. Put it back together with someone else’s list.

I ate half of a 6 inch and we headed out.
I do not exist as a fat man.
Walls sweating.
By the time the sun came up I was sure of a few things.
I do not exist in the fur of a dog.
I walked into the 7th circle of ball-tripping hell.
I do not exist in Spain even though I would like to.
The answer – no.
I do not exist as a person who has a body they like.
But he thought wrong.
I do not exist as an infant.
When we arrived, I was dropped off and wished luck.
I do not exist as a fighter.
Jim Morrison’s droning voice echoing through my eyes.
Thanks.
I do not exist as blah blah blah blah blah blah
I spent the next what felt/seemed like 5 hours using the tv remote as a volume control for my brain.
I do not exist in a state of ease.
The plan was simple – eat sandwiches, go to party, hang out, go home, sleep.
I do not exist as a liquid (although parts of me are).
Aewsome.
During the course of the night I had an alright time and decided it was time to finish it off.
I do not exist in a state of discomfort.
I hated my night.
I do not exist as a giraffe.
Plants breathing.
I do not exist in a high economic bracket.
We bought subway sandwiches – foot longs- and sprinkled our shit-covered fungus on them.
I hated mushrooms.

Schreibstuck rehearsals are a full on go.
My ass is being handed to me on a daily basis with workouts, dancing, writing, creating compositions, and did i mention dancing?
As if my knees and legs weren’t banged up enough already. Nothing throwing yourself across the room every day like you’re getting hit by a car won’t add to.


There’s also a pretty nice bruise developing on my hip.

TURN OFF ALARM
OPEN COMPUTER
SEND TEXT MESSAGE
RECEIVE TEXT MESSAGE
SMILE
WRITE SEXY ACTIONSCRIPT
WASH YESTERDAY’S STINK OFF MY BODY
REMIND MYSELF MY BATHROOM WINDOW NEEDS COVERING
GET DRESSED
BUY WORKOUT SHORTS – DAZZLING ONES!
PURCHASE LUNCH
GET DISAPPOINTED
CURSE TWO CAPERS
MAKE PB&J
WRITE MORE HOTTT ACTIONSCRIPT
DRIVE TO REHEARSAL
STRETCH