Edward "fucking" Sharpe and his Magnetic Zeros. Goddamn you make me smile like a 13 year old Bieberific fan. I fucking love your tunes, LOVE LOVE LOVE JADE! and her uncontrollable laugh, drawn like a overzealous chain smoking inuit.

I peel layers of a skin that i had no idea i could. Is it too late to join the Hippie constitution? I have a purple baja hoodie. You bring it back to being enjoyable, morose, psychawesomic.

Drums and stilts with the germs of life. toe to toe. in the world of mine. That's what i make of it.

Good night my baby

So here it is, a year later. Still rocking 1 follower, what up dude?

The fact is. I've been writing a screen play. Like so many of you have done. No one will ever see the finished product. Nor the copius amounts of failed projects that i've tried to complete. Staring at a blank page of paper (i'm old school) smoking PJ's wondering how "Joe will get the girl in the end" Knowing fine well that "joe" will never end up with the girl. Why should he, it's not a fucking John Cusack film. Though i think he would be great bit character.He will bask in the fortitude of being a "playa" without the rep, except from his friends. He can convince a nun to take it off, for the good of man kind.

It was never like this. It wasn't supposed to be this way. In the end.
The middle is where it got fucked up. He forgot he had a blog. He forgot the password. He forgot how much he loved The National,prior to Alligator. Now Moby just popped up in his shuffle. Moby asks the question. Why does my heart feel so bad? Strong question to ask. Wrong guy to answer it though. Maybe a Remix should be on the card's with a answer. "My heart ain't that bad, it's the fucking hole in my chest that's bad"


I'm in the Mutha fuckin house. So tone it out!