Phillip Seymour Hoffman is my muse...

I was going to post a rant about Twilight today, but I realized that every caffeine fueled horror nerd in the world is ranting about sparkly vampires and overly tanned guido werewolves...

So instead the roommates and I went to see the new movie, "Pirate Radio." Overall it was a decent movie. Although little thin on plot, it was quite funny and the soundtrack was amazing. It of course inspired a certain rowdiness and energy that makes me wish I had someone to fool around with, but as I don't, here's some lyrical wanderings that came from an hour long blues session with the roomies.

How can a man see, where his life might’ve gone?

How can he know, what’s right and what’s wrong?

How does he know, where it is he must be?

When no one can hear him and no one can see?

This yardstick is placed, at the feet of a babe,

Instructed to learn, and how to behave.

Grow next to this measure, never stray from the line,

Just follow this path it will work out in time.

And as a man grows, he is led to believe,

That what he has done, and what he achieves,

All serves some greater good, some greater plan…

But it don’t man…

So when a man matures, when he’s tall and he’s grown,

When he realizes, that this life’s only his own,

It is then the time comes, that a man must decide,

Where his dreams will take him, where his heart might reside…

It feels like I'm aping Bob Dylan a bit here, but when my guitarist roommates play the same blues riff for 20 minutes it tends to affect the mind...

A more punk-ish sampling...

A bystander in a secret war of fools,

A wrench in a box, so like the other tools.

Bow to those masters that you’ll never see,

Bow to those bastards, submit easily.

Sign away your soul, you won’t use it anyway.

Sign away your life, you’ll be slaving day to day.

Who needs the freedom offered by the men in suits?

I’ve never even seen ‘em, only heard the stomp of boots.

It’s an obsession with obligation,

A concession to annihilation,

A decision for gratification,

A revision for pacification,

A derision of our salvation,

A cessation of your sensation,

A division of this nation,

An incision of this generation

I'm probably just going to keep posting lyrics and poetry in its "first draft" version. I think I'd rather have someone reply with a "nice but..." rather than spend hours trying to reach some perfection to avoid a critique. I like this one mostly for the rapid chorus part. I think that it would be fun to sing.

By the way, this is a werewolf. Stay frosty.

Once more...with feeling!

Alright, so in the interest of actually improving my writing skills, I return once again to the blogowebospherenetertubes with the solemn vow (sworn on a stack of Mt. Dew and transcribed in Baja Sauce,) that I will attempt to write in this personal journal at least once a week. Whether a posting of recent happenings, a copy+paste of recently transcribed creativity, or simply an idle thought, something must be put here every week.

Much has changed since I last posted. If you, dear reader, already know me, then you already know how the path of my life has diverted most drastically from the one laid before me since the early years of high school. However, I consider this to be of little consequence now as I have fully embraced the life available to me now, and no amount of pained recount or awkward justification will alter what it is. What has not changed however, is that writing is still one of the main things that makes me happy in this world. Thus we return, to the point of this resurgence of self published drivel; to give me an opportunity to focus on a regular basis and write something that very few people will read. Yet...it will be written.

So, projects in the future...

1. Story idea...short I think. Based in some childhood memories, incorporating traditional mythological elements, the fae, legends involving races of magic etc...

2. Lyrics. The roommates continue to demand, and thus I shall attempt to continue to provide, lyrical samplings that come to me in fits of lucidity.

3. Poetry. I in fact still love poetry. As such, I will continue to attempt to write it. "But Bizzle, (or Big 'Un, or Beebe)" you plaintively whine, "what's the difference between poetry and lyrics?" Well you'll just have to see won't you?

So, that's what's on the horizon. In between work and...well not much beyond that, I'll be attempting to post as often as possible. Hopefully its good, hopefully its at least vaguely creative. If nothing else, maybe it'll be passingly funny...I'm funny...I really am...