Tuesday, October 02, 2007

 

10.02.07-10.31.07

I think I've said it before, but I try not to look into people's eyes as much as I can.

I'll look at them, their faces, but never really their eyes.

I can't handle it sometimes.

You can sense and even tell so much about a person just by looking in their eyes.

Perhaps I'm scared that the reverse is being worked on me.

I relate to almost every song that I hear.

Is that a good or a bad thing?

Little boys mess it up for men.

How exactly does one move their body like a cyclone?

Can't anyone just say that these girlies gyrate quite well, that they adequately twork in their motions?

That doesn't count for dancing, by the by. I'm just saying.

Nothing against the Greek system.

Both of my elder brothers were in frats.

I'd just rather not.

I think the death of me is that realization, that awareness.

When I'm conscious of it, I become overly so, and in trying to combat and balance that, I end up ignoring and neglecting it.

I'm too used to things just falling into place.

I feel like I've passed my own peak, used up all my luck.

Find what's important to you and do what you gotta do.

"Don't you realize that you are a champion in their eyes?"

I can't read minds. Shocking, I know.

Apparently, there's a limit to how many videos you can favorite on YouTube.

It's 500, and I've hit it.

The limit, I mean.

Half of them are dance videos.

I am a sick, sick man.

Literally.

I'm coughing, wheezing AND sneezing like no other right now.

It's kind of... impressive, actually.

Someone come take care of me!

And they all scream, "Somebody's got to hear my story!"

And I listen.

But am I a weaker or stronger person in doing so?

I feel like I need to write soon.

But there a lot of projects I need to catch up on.

Stop giving me reasons, please. I can't stand being in this position.

But I'm putting myself in it, so I'll deal with the consequences.

Awkward turtle.

It's amazing how quickly the odds can stack up against you.

Cockiness is annoying.

I find better satisfaction in earning that regard from others than imposing it on others.

I think the issue with most people is that they focus on the wrong things.

With something as fickle as life, why would you want to spend your time putting value into petty things?

Forgive me if I don't pander to your little dramas. When one begins to speak on such things, I start thinking about the bigger matters at hand.

Why do you constantly have these dramas? Why put yourselves in such positions? Why do you let things affect you in such ways? Why do you insist on maintaining your verbal fictions are true when they obviously are not?

A question never asked.

Homie, be cool.

No one even knows, so what do you expect?

No one even knows.

Do you even know?

You were beginning to question it.

But then you get this feeling.

This never happens. To you.

Ever.

She requires more than a few lines of text, but I'm inarticulate at the moment. My apologies.

I think I'll tattoo my name on my neck like J. Holiday. You know, just in case I forget.

I could just look in the mirror and notice a stupid inking on my neck, in reverse, and my piqued curiousity will help realize that that's my name!

Maye it's just me, I don't know, but I am one sloppy tooth-brusher. I get foam all over my mouth and sometimes, it just slops out. There must be some sort of cool technique that I'm missing out on.

Is there a direct correlation between foam and how many microorganisms are residing in your mouth? Is all the foam the cellular death of all that bacteria?

'Cause if so, then damn, celebrities have clean mouths. In every movie I see where people are brushing their teeth, they never even have an inkling of semblance to the foam party that's happening in my mouth. Even when they pause to spit, it's in modest amounts. The hell?

They even have dialogue when brushing. There's no way I can talk while brushing, it'd just get everywhere. My mirror is a testament to that sometimes-- there's blotches every now and then near and around the sink.

It's amazing how much mucous your body can produce.

I've always wondered: do viral communities build-up in your throat and esophagus, or do they just somehow get transported there so that your body can expel them by coughing?

Same goes for the nose.

Or does it just happened to be that in those particular areas, that's how they are excised as opposed to other parts of the body where your body's immunities take them on on a miniscule level?

These are the types of things I think about sometimes. I'm retarded, I know.

The better part of yesterday and today were the first instances in which I've wasted time in a long while.

I became a busy-body and I'm feeling that restlessness that I had long thought was a myth.

Scary stuff, mang. Scary stuff.

I need to write something soon. Just to get it out of my system.

There is only one reason I keep going to my MCDB lab, and that reason is because I'm immature.

Every time I go there, I hear at least 3 statements that can be heavily misconstrued and I can't help but laugh to myself or one of my dope lab partners and write them down.

Here is but just a taste of the madness:

"Am I going all the way down?" -Dood
"You wanna put it in the hole, but not all the way in." -Young Lady
"I'm spreading my seed." -Homie G-Slice
"Did you get to shoot the stuff in?" -Lovely

...and my current favorite...

"Gently stick the tip in..." -My unknowing TA, Nathan

You're welcome.

I'm a beast on the microphone, smooth flow and tone. -- I'll make a million dollars off of ring tones alone.

Check it.

Usually when I dream about someone, I let it go.

Dreams are a whole lot of randominity and obnoxicity.

But you have somehow infiltrated my mental cinematic theater for 5 days in row now.

Are you trying to go for the record or something?

=-=-=

And in the still of the night, he awoke to see a body next to his.

Half-asleep, he sat up to check who it was.

The room was dimly moonlit, but he'll swear that as soon as he recognized that quirky little half-smile, it radiated every dark corner of that small hotel room.

All he could think about was how she sleeps like an angel and how he wouldn't mind waking up to that in the middle of the night or on random mornings.

She shivered a little and she re-positioned herself within the cramped area that she occupied, her blanket half-covering her.

Grabbing its ends, he made sure that she was fully enshrouded to combat the cold blast from the air conditioner, wishing that he could serve as a substitute for the blanket's warm entanglement of a hug.

He maneuvered himself a little ways over so that at some other point in the evening, she could capitalize and give herself more room for comfort.

He rolled over to make sure he wasn't facing her direction.

How complicated would things become if he got himself involved?

=-=-=

All gave some, some gave all.

Tragedy has befallen many of us.

But I have to remain strong...

for myself, for my peers, for my team.

I am the most frontingest.

Maybe it's the fatigue, but I don't feel like I'm doing things as well as I should be.

This weekend was murder on my stamina, but it was well worth the physical taxation.

Although, something happened that negated many things that I've been trying to combat for the past year.

I can't help but feel responsible.

I am never satisfied with my work.

It can sometimes be a problem.

Here you go, Ryan Mose-- it's time to prove that you're worth a damn.

Late night commercials are ridiculous.

I think this year's overarching goal is... expansion.

Trying to find positive outlets for what talent I do have.

The idea of self has become somewhat vague as of late.

I know how I was back in the day.

And I know how I was a year ago.

Am I who I am right now or am I acting out, a reaction towards my current environment?

Am I being who I truly want to be?

Get out of my head, will you?

So, there's this class I'm taking and it's basically Inside the Actor's Studio, but for artists.

I am in love with this class. If it were personified as woman, I'd probably hit on her, not gonna lie.

These artist create an intimate setting, showcase and talk about their art and what inspired, drove and brought them to these points in their lives.

I connect with them in their mindset and in their work and am pulling so much from these people.

As an artist, experimentation is a heavy part of you and you learn to mess up-- even moreso, you learn that it's necessary.

If you aren't strong enough without them , you won't be strong enough with them.

The quarter just started and I already feel like there aren't enough hours in the day.

Just you wait until the ball starts rolling, homie.

Not going to let it hold me in its clutches.

This duration of peace has lasted long enough.

The elite weaponry must prove its worth once again.

I'm awaiting declarations of war.

I'm only good when taken in moderation.

Prolong dosages of me can kill a person.

Seriously.

I've seen people OD from too much before.

It's a curse.

"What if, on a crowded street, you looked up and see something appear that should not, given what we know, be there. You either shake your head and dismiss it, or you accept that there is much more to the world than we think. Perhaps it really is a doorway to another place. If you choose to go inside you may find many unexpected things."

This quarter is different than the others.

I'm going to all my classes and sections-- willingly.

I'm happy that I've reintroduced myself to the arts and that it has worked its way once again into my daily schedules.

I'm coming to terms with the fact that perhaps my artistic side is my better half.

I am an artist.

First and foremost, it has finally claimed its prominence in my composite.

So, at the moment, I am anxious and excited about the new team.

Lots of new talent.

But at the same time, I feel a little regretful.

If I had all the time in the world, I would take and train them all and work upon their potential.

But I don't.

And it's all good.

I can already feel the team dynamic and, let me tell you, it's a good one.

We're going to do big things this year.

They are very capable.

And with the aid of my other coordinators, we can lead this ship to paradise.

As slick as the team is as a whole, they are nothing compared to the two lovely ladies by my side.

I'm lucky to have them there. I would probably fall and fail without them there to hold me up.

Organized, disciplined, down-to-Earth and very talented. They know what they're doing.

The team definitely has much to look up to.

And a lot to tap into as well.

I'm setting points with each and every one of them this year.

Granted, I'm not telling them where these points exist.

But, I'm making damn sure that they all reach them.

8 new bloods. 10 doods. 14 lovelies. 24 strong.

Straight fire.

I don't judge. I don't have a gavel.

I do not go on tirades or blast sprees.

One day, she will feel all the joys that I know.

A world without boundaries, where shadow can fall in love with flame.

Ball-to-the-walls Tuesdays.

Beyond galactic. So boss. Straight attorney.

Getting my biscuits in order, buttering them and putting them in the basket.

Dust.

Singing. Drawing. Conversing.

It's a simple joy being at the table and enjoying a long bout of wordplay and wit.

It's a simple joy talking to a stranger whose interested in something that you're a part of.

It's a simple joy talking to a stranger at all and sharing that human connection that many will contend is being lost in this age of technology.

"That which doesn't kill me only makes me stronger."

Wrong. Overcoming a debilitating illness can cripple your body or immune system.

In order for that maxim to retain its value, one must define the use of "strength".

It's not physical, it's mental.

Something crazy happens, you learn from it, you become aware of it and hopefully you amount to a better person because of it.

That's what it means. Don't go around saying it if you're going to deny it its existence.

Be the better person and mount up.

Absorb, learn and move.

In boxing, they teach you to still your stance and follow a punch thrown at you if you cannot dodge it.

You may still get hit, but you roll with it, not only diffusing the impact and the power of the punch, but also giving you a dynamic fluidity which is a great aid in a follow-up counter of tremendous proportions.

Eat it.

Go on. It's okay.

Eat it.

It's strange how in order to truly know something about yourself, it must be echoed back by the thoughts of others on multiple occasions.

It's strange too how sometimes that isn't enough.

Empty carapace.

Maybe it's just one of them days. Or weeks.

Okay, months.

But I am the most frontingest.

I always find myself looking back upon my artistic endeavors and, instead of seeing the big picture, am antagonizing myself over the few or many little detail flaws.

And every now and then, those feelings are evoked in my own reality, permeating its way into my social realm.

Everyone has an inherent degree of paranoia and self-awareness, but I think as an artist you have a heightened sense of it.

I say this because usually I am so quick to see and point out the positives of almost anything and anyone, but when it comes to matters of myself, I put myself on the back-burner.

At times, I can be loud and obnoxious, I'll admit it.

But hey, you tell me when you're not enjoying yourself and/or are being entertained, and I'll stop.

I like to talk. Is that a crime?

I'm not being flirtatious, I'm just trying to have a good conversation and a good time.

And I don't grind, I dance. Thank you for not mashing my pelvic region to a pulp.

Stay classy.

Do you like the way she makes you feel or do you like the feeling you get because of the attention?

If only it were that easy sometimes.

I'm getting tired of these questions.

Honestly.

...Maybe that means I'm not entirely over it.

And I was so money.

Balls.

Docking out...
-Ryan : anticipate the return

Ryan posted this at 6:43 PM.