my brother is vegan

Their children would have been beautiful, no one would argue. And it's not because of one parent more than the other; instead both would have been equal contributors to each child's perfection. The success of their children would have been a given as well, to the extent that their children’s failure would not have passed through the minds of anyone who knew them as a possibility. But then again, nothing works out as planned.

Heartbreak is strange because we can love so many things. As people disappear from my life and become more of a dream than a past, their existence elsewhere tends not to mean as much to me. But, if I fall in love with life, what is to be done when it disappoints me, as all things we love one day do. I still have to wake up everyday next to her. I still think about her all the time, because she’s right there with me. She’s everywhere I look. I can only hope I don’t dream because she even permeates those. If I could just be certain that death was an eternal dreamless sleep, then I’d know there’s hope. But for all I know death isn’t like that at all. The concept of an afterlife makes me frantic for a way out like someone suffocating on oxygen.

Power, money, and babies are often enough motivation for people. If they aren't then life seems to become a complicated quest for meaning or purpose, one that probably won’t ever be resolved. This is the nomadic result of the absence of belonging. I’m thinking helping people somehow would fix this emptiness, but the truth is I don’t give a fuck about other people and saving all the babies in the world would only cause more elderly to starve. I can’t understand everything I want to and I don’t often like who I am. This world is unacceptable and if it weren’t for the fact that suicide takes a great deal of motivation, I would have killed myself already. I know there’s meat in this. No, my brother is vegan. I’m nothing.

viewing things from the current perspective.

"i'm turning to god."

he'll help you as much as i will, if not more. the further back i remember love, the better it seems. maybe she's just what i need, maybe we're just what each other need. perhaps she's just a wild fuck and a good night's rest. maybe the future doesn't matter if i could be eternally happy for now. without enough motivation for suicide all we have are ideas and stories without any moral value. god would condemn us either way. everything since mexico has been ugly. one day we might stumble into something grand. let's hope this time is soon, otherwise things will get just hideous. i'll make love to her, and she'll think we're getting married, but more likely i'll run off to china and seek out the last remaining opium den to wallow in the oblivion of solitude until one day there's nothing left to take. then i'll know as much as anyone gets to know about things.

it's been too long

everyone goes there for brunch. all types of people, from all walks of life. they don't have to work on sundays, so they eat, drink, and talk. what else is there to do in this world? they make themselves stupid/happy with gluttony and communicate poorly. apparently it makes the rest of their tolerated slavery worthwhile. they each get paid enough to support their lavish lifestyle. i refuse to believe that each of them is far more intelligent than those in starving countries. it's impossible to be very intelligent when your frequency of interest in things is slowing down to zero.

she erases people from her life better than i do. wow.

i never come home happy and drunk. i'm not sure if this is because of the drunk part, just coming home in general, or the world that i come home from. if i used to go someplace happy, that place is far away and different now.

it's a fucking joke.

look at what you spend your time on. like it makes any bit of difference. no one's better off. selling things people don't need, teaching things people don't care about, wasting time. one day, i'll think back on this and laugh. and i'll be happier. let's not hold our breath. it only makes us want things less. living is wanting more. consume.

Dr. Phil is a cucumber in the shape of the virgin mary

i never thought i could be this happy. i can't remember ever thinking this, though i might have. if so, i wouldn't ever know how to say it again, and really mean it. they talk like they're excited about life, and maybe they are going places. so, you're not very successful? they'd think to themselves after asking what i do. no i'm not. perhaps success is not a priority of mine. perhaps there's a better priority to have. what could be a better priority in life than success, they might think out loud. i don't know, but i'm trying quite hard to find one. not that it matters. life is just a bunch of shitty justifications anyways. any reason you could list of why you're alive could probably fall under this category. i don't know why i tell the truth sometimes, often i feel i'm more truthful than most. i'm not that honest. this is a quest, this is a search for meaning, for reason, for doing something that doesn't make me want to stay in bed every morning. a quest to live a life not merely tolerated, but enjoyed and understood. this is impossible. this is what we are up against.

in the spirit of mr. DeLanguillette

someone should make me a wikipedia page worth having. though, i'm not sure i deserve it. i don't know what it would even say. here he is, he does... um... i'm not too sure. that sounds about right. people flip out for stupid little reasons all the time, the only thing that will sedate them is wads of cash. stick it in their face and they'll let you rub shit in their nose. just ask around, it's true.

Mirror neurons work best in real life, when people are face to face. Virtual reality and videos are shadowy substitutes.

we fall in and out of love so easy just like a dying light bulb, not sure whether it's on or off, beating like a slow old heart. it casts shadows on each beat to keep rodents at bay. fear is often considered more basic than love. i don't think one can exist in a world without the other. humans mimic through empathy, we love through empathy, we fear though it, we learn with it. it may be the single most important human characteristic. our overdeveloped empathy. our imagination and consideration regarding that outside ourselves. when man ceases to consider that which is outside himself, he loses his most human characteristic. selfishness may be a part of human nature, but it is not humanity's alone. in fact it may be the most primal and prehistoric of his traits, not something to be rewarded like our society teaches. who do we wish to honor, the asshole or the considerate? sometimes i just don't know about people and their ideas.

i think i'm smarter than everybody, it's true.

ethical structure as a blueprint for happiness. something with a statue and candles, like a shrine, only without preconception. love more naturally tears away in the coldest of places. hospital rooms, retirement homes, and empty bedrooms. don't feed on the logic of people you don't understand. they're feasting on the epistimology of people they've never met, but assume are better than they, since people they've never met assume the same thing. because someone once knew someone who thought that someone had a good idea and told others who may not have been very intelligent, but we all know intelligence does not coincide with influence, so the influential did their thing and here we are with a system of operating in the world that most people don't question. they probably shouldn't, there's not much they can do. learn to love the machine, one day it will save us all, save us like fish in a bowl.

i tried to sleep alone, but i couldn't do it.

the things that make them all happy would just make me miserable, i just know it. nothing to learn from or grow on. just reaching, blind. without the intelligence or inspiration to achieve anything other than lazy existence. i'd like to believe i'm making everyone's life better. the way a teacher does and then leaves them to do better things. like some self righteous hero parting into a sunset after the world he knows is dead and cold, i'll leave you all behind. it's only a matter of time.

go find yourself religion son.

a new perspective like a brand new shirt. stubborn moralist would rather die for his cause. a cause he doesn't know. like going to church every sunday. grown men cry because in their hearts they know things are wrong. it's true. but not for the reasons they perhaps think, those don't matter. great or nothing. dad was always a preacher in disguise but he's only made of energy like everything else we know. after focusing on trivial problems and mundane tasks for so long, once one catches their breath and looks around there's not much at all. just people focusing on mundane tasks and trivial problems. expectations. our outcome only depends on what we walk into things expecting. i often think i expected too much; anything. sustainable despite unhappiness. it's a thing most people lose track of once they're busy enough. a different approach towards life, like knitting god a scarf on my lunch break. i guess i'll use it until he shows up. i wonder what size shirt he wears? let's not get caught up in details.

i'm in love with her but i don't love her.

evolution isn't happening so quickly. we're just better at learning and remembering as a community than most other animals. this is our biggest difference. when they learn things they don't share and build on their knowledge to the extent that we do. however if we make changes that are entirely detrimental to all previous developments, then we really aren't much different at all. this seems to assume that the developments humans have made are a sort of progress, by what standards i do not know. i don't think we're much different at all. in fact, if we could swing from trees like most other animals everyone would probably be better off. evolution is considered positive or negative by the success rate of the proprietor. however, it's only change, a new characteristic. it's success should not be judged while the species is still in development and it's success rate is still microscopic in years compared to many other existing specimen. everyone loves a monkey at a typewriter. own/control everything, that's what they want. seriously. what is that?

may we all cut our thumbs

one day we'll understand so much we wish we didn't, or maybe it's barely enough.

walk away like you have a purpose

i used to be ok with being miserable. i used to think it was good for building artistic character or motivation. now it does nothing but simmer. people watch pornography for sport. like it's a game, watching other people have sex on camera. entertainment. let's get together and sit around on my sofa and watch the tv and maybe people will be having sex on the tv, i don't know. whatever happens to be playing. perhaps we'll have condoms in the candy dish on the table. no promises. this is what people do for entertainment in the modern world. watch porno in groups that maybe burst into orgies. one can only hope wishes come true to such an extent. but maybe they don't and people just sit there watching other people have sex, maybe with hard ons, maybe not, depending on how desensitized they are to these things. eventually they wont be able to count the hours/days they've spent watching other people have sex. it might equal or exceed the amount of time they've had sex. one day they'll wake up and won't be able to decipher the experiences. one day they may find that nothing makes them happy, but they know exactly what makes them less unhappy. let's turn to this certainty in the face of a world which we like to have so much control over. maybe communism is wrong, but we need to be more specific regarding our definitions.

we're not doing so great

they're doing just fine without us. everybody we used to know. they're tinkering and meddling with other people's lives. we're just trying not to bother anyone. instead, everybody bothers us. they're building and calculating, we're sitting and thinking. things could be better.

habit

i didn't want to get out of bed. hours after i had, i regretted it. even as i go to bed i wonder why i bother leaving. i'm told one day i'll miss this. i feel like you could say that about anything which makes nostalgia worth nothing.

nothing ever works out as we want it to so why are we here?

i wonder if she still believes that.

she wanted to tell stories

i hadn't seen her in like five years, but i didn't say hi. hers is a story i'd rather not know. when a human body is submerged in water for extended periods of time the skin becomes water logged and slippery. if someone tries to grab the body the skin can slide right off. there's a term for this, but most people wouldn't ever know it. i forget what it is. i wonder how many days an extended period of time is. probably two or more. i overheard some guy saying it. he said he heard it on tv.

it wasn't what i wanted

we can play faster and more calibrated. this means better. war machines cover the ground with rubble. i was a great king. that's only part true. no, not even part true. everybody wants an excuse to get their money back. always

a tint of green

radiation goggles don't protect us from anything, they just allow us to enjoy the view through a tint of green. all those people out there in the city. they're starving for capital. they're gnashing their incisors to the flocking of paper in their direction. i hope they get it, i really do. they sure seem to want it awful bad, dressing up in silly outfits, parading around like kings. it doesn't matter how nice they are. friendliness is a weakness of character and a communist trait. it suggests you will concede easily when confronted. capital favors the furious hungry, scratching and digging for copper and gold. ones willing to pry it from cold dead hands with no sign of remorse. after all, no one deserves it more than them. our culture deems them superior.

i think i miss her most of all, because with as little as she knew of me, she had a better idea than anyone of who i really was. and she still liked me. i don't even think she realized.

fertilizer

take what you love and have it every day. life's not much worth living without even such a prospect. we starve ourselves, sit patiently outside a powerful smelling restaurant, and wonder why we're hungry. maybe we'll get some scraps at the end of the day. i'm not talking about food. maybe i am. we end up food for the worms and plants we step on. they found him frozen on a himalayan mountain top gripping his erect penis. some people care what happens after they die. their investments outlive them. it gives motivation to live life to the very last moment. seeing our investments well off. not that they'll do us any good. it's a matter of pride.

fuck this

sad is the new happy

she doesn't know what i'm like when i'm happy. she's never seen it. eventually what she knows of me will become my new happy. sad. that's what happens when we forget any other way of being, we're left only with all we have. let's write a fucking story:

once there was a little boy, naive and ripe with affection, as most little boys are. he was curious of girls and did nothing about it, knowing very well what movies said about such things and how to treat someone you cared about with utmost attention, care, and sincerity. little did he know that this was the closest to mastering the art of love he would ever know. as experiences were had girls were had as well. the very first love he never really had. the second love he lost to another. the third he wouldn't let himself deserve. many more were thrown away to the oblivion of indifference. and now i sit alone with a bottle of wine, i swear, there was a time when i would have made a wonderful lover. but that time has passed.

i can't believe it.

i had to show someone who is computer-stupid, but has a wonderful smile, even when she's wearing goofy glasses with a big nose and mustache, how to do this. this girl is employed, but not for long. she will never work again, instead she will probably find some guy to marry who lets her live comfortably and write in her excessive free time, maybe even allowing her to become good enough of a writer to get paid for telling stories about things that might not exist, like love.

criticizing is easy.

there are problems with everything.

some words of wisdom from our friend Matt Sharp

"Life.

The big issues.

How did we get here ?

Is there life after death ?

Does God exist ?

O. K. ...so, let's not talk about the big issues.

Starting over.

Day 1 ...dear diary

State of the union, emancipation, proclamation.

We The Rentals are back.

Why ? ...mmmmmmmm ...fuck off ...that's why ...we're back!

No, really ...that's not so nice.

O. K. Think. nice. Ah!

Tangential thoughts.

I wish a cool breeze would pass by.

Think.

Starting over.

The big issues :

#1. How did we get here ?

Well, it's been a strange and twisted year.

A new solo album, delving into a new collaborative partnership or possibly retiring and opening up a small tobacco store in a remote Spanish village, all of these options have been equally bouncing around on the dining room table of my mind lately.

I was even entertaining the idea of rejoining weezer as a fifth member for a little while. They approached me about the idea sometime around the last Super Bowl. The idea started out with a bang. Bang!, bang!!, bang!!! Each one of us filled up the balloon with our own individual pre-conceived notions of all the endless possibilities ...then, pop!, pop!, fizz!, fizz! ...oh, what a relief it is!!! ...the idea quickly came, went and collectively fizzled.

I have a dusty department store where I keep all those weezer memories. When we started talking again, I started re-opening those doors, passing through the sporting goods department and revisiting that era all draped in cobwebs. As I passed by a wax figure of Al Delvecchio, off in the distance, a little to the left of women's shoes, I spotted a pretty little shimmering thing, a flickering little light, laying underneath all the weight of this behemoth, titanic, monstrous Orange amplifier and there she was, my last functional moog source. Although, looking rather ragged and worn out and somewhat like a vintage McDonalds cash register, she still had a little sparkle left in her oscillators and with that, she gave me that love bug look, she revved up, winked and wanted another ride. You see, my time with weezer and my memories of The Rentals are inevitably, invariably linked somewhere in the brain, to entertain one, it's nearly impossible not to entertain the other. So, I'd guess you could say, in some strange way, I have those fellows to thank for leading me down those rusty tracks, onto this train of thought, jumping over and onto that lonely old caboose.

But, when I started to ride ...I realized ...to what ? ...to where ? ...this yellow brick road is a dead end.

Images in the mind leading to this ...to what ? ...nothing ...briefly entertained ...but blank ...totally ...blank ...impossible ...then ...forget it.

A moment later, out of nowhere, freaking, bling, blam, bloom, as these miracles will happen (with C.G.I. ...& everything ...that's how we roll here on the eastside of Hollywood, that's how we roll). Bling, blam, bloom, with all your ex-girlfriends waiting in the wings of the big dance, bling, blam, bloom, all fixed up and looking for a swing, all fixed up and looking for a toss (I'm not sure what this means). But, while everyone was racing off to the mega-blockbuster techno i-pod after party. I met a few people across the street, sitting outside on the sidewalk, just sitting there on the curb. I met a few people that for some reason or other made the whole idea seem possible, it made the whole damned thing feel tangible and it filled me with confidence that there should indeed be a new day for The Rentals.

Sometimes, with the people you meet, it just seems to all make sense.

That's the long and short of it.

I have always stayed away from this idea, because I could never see how it would be possible to approach it with any sense of honesty. But now, with their help, I can see a path and I know that our best days lay ahead.

#2. Is there life after death ?

When we first brought up the idea behind closed doors, the people who are closest to me snooped around with our little secret to see what the interest would be. Much to my surprise they found a level of enthusiasm, anticipation and excitement that I really didn't think would exist.

And god damn, Honestly, I miss being around that sense of electricity ...it's exciting and I really look forward to the day when we can bring that excitement to you.

As I write this, we are just starting to put the pieces together. We are in a formative stage and we are starting the group from the ground up. It's a bright new day. It's a bright day.

Will it be explosive ?, will it be atmospheric ? lo-fi ? ...hi-fi ? ...I don't know.

It depends what seems most natural to us as a group.

The essential elements of The Rentals will be there. Our fascination with vintage synthesizers, violas, violins, female harmonies and all the rest will continue. But, I'm guessing, we'll most likely veer off the path that would lead us into the realm of becoming our own tribute band.

We will be, who we are. The Rentals evolution will come through our collection of personalities.

And in good time, we will introduce everyone involved.

In the meanwhile.

#3. Does God exist ?

I'll leave that up to Tom Cruise to answer.

Is there life on other planets ?

Well, we've given Kyle Conkright the keys to our flying saucer, so be nice to him and he'll let you know.

Is Celine Dion an alien ? ...well, I'll answer that. ...uh, yes. ...and she's riding shotgun.

Sit back and enjoy the show.

And we'll see you soon"

Matt Sharp
THE RENTALS

i still think numbers did us all in.

another year passes and everything still feels like the direction of down.

nothing to capture interest, nothing but fake smiles. tired hopeless mornings and everything's close enough to the same forever and ever ad infinum. cycles of pleasure and discomfort that all blur into a feeling of basic regret. i've probably been unhappy/depressed more than 70% of my self-aware life. this is not a cry for help, just a statistic. for all i know this might be below average. numbers did us all in.