I saw an interesting interview yesterday on Vicki. A man and his team had been the first to boat down the amazon rapids in a particular path. They all took turns paddling, while they all ate, slept, and cooked in rotation, in the boat. It became their life for at least two months (I remember it as six, but I can’t confirm). When they finally finished the trek, and emerged from the base of the river, they had mixed emotions. They were happy that they finished a very life-threatening journey and survived, happy that they had the energy and talent enough to complete it. However, they were also sad that their life was going to become a lot more complicated again. That they would now have to answer phone calls, reply to e-mail, get stuck in traffic.

It made me wonder if I would ever be able to feel that way. If I could stay away from my pleasure box long enough, that I would forget about it, and actually regret having to delete my spam, or having to answer messages from extremely annoying people. What could possibly make me forget my beautiful music, or my comforting interface? I’m sure that there have been times where I left my apartment, for home, and I never once thought of my computer. This couldn’t have been more than two weeks, to be sure, so I haven’t actually been able to test the limits of my dependency. Of course, one should always have more than one passion, and I believe that I do, though some are more in practice than others. Without my passions, I am without being, and without my computer, I am without my main passion. Pita asked me if I would join him in ballroom dancing, but I refused when he asked (though after some careful consideration), citing time constraints as being too much of a hurdle.

I believe, or hope at least, that I am cosmopolitan enough to be able to pick up another passion, should the need arise. Passions are my drug; something that I can get into, be good at, stand out in, make a difference at. I’ve always needed that form of recognition. I’ve always needed to know that I’m good at something. Perhaps this need will go away when I gain some much needed self-confidence, when I can accept my past, and choose to be the person that I am.

No one said it would be fast.

My iPod is a thing of beauty. More on that tomorrow, after some much needed rest.

I FOUND IT. I can’t believe I fucking found it. By the slimmest chance, I was able to search on the skimpiest lyrics (I could barely understand anything, the recording was so bad, so I went on “in all my dreams, I never thought I’d see”) and found a reference to it on a Portishead site. The thread had the title, Anger Management. A search for that ended up with an album by Nathaniel Merriweather called Lovage. It turns out that Nathaniel Merriweather is an alias for Dan the Automator, and the song on the album is called Anger Management. I was finally able to download an excellent quality recording of the song. I guess I should support the artist. I haven’t enjoyed a song this much since Dance of Eterniy by Dream Theater, which was in fucking first year. It feels like this is my new song, an underscore track to my next phase. I’m proud of myself for finding such a rare song, and it’s even rarer that I’m proud of myself.

Lyrics:

my inner demons compel me to be here
your cheeks are flush like rose petals
you’re consumed with rage but i’m consumed with you
our eyes intertwine through the haze
intoxicated by your bloodshot stare
in all of my dreams i never thought i’d see
a face that could launch a thousand ships
and the music was like wind in your hair
the moonlight caressed your silhouette
the kiss of ocean mist is in the air
why must god punish me this way
lay down my hand, the next move is yours
as you undress me with your frozen eyes
in all of my dreams i never thought i’d see
an endless love to share my blue lagoon
and the music was like wind in your hair
the moonlight caressed your silhouette
the kiss of ocean mist is in the air
why must god punish me this way
hapiness is hard to come by
but i’ve had my fair share
the satin sheets, the lemon peels
the minor keys, the major pills
we’ve climbed the mountain, saw the top
and planted the apple seed
and can’t you see we could’ve had it all
and the music was like wind in your hair
the moonlight caressed your silhouette
the kiss of ocean mist is in the air
why must god punish me this way
and the music was like wind in your hair
the moonlight caressed your silhouette
the kiss of ocean mist is in the air
why must god punish me this way
why must god punish me this way
this way, this way

I was finally able to finish the page, and another one for my cousin. I think he needs one more than I do. It feels like a never ending stream of projects, always this or that, that I’m working on. I sent in my application for Big Brothers today. Just another project to add to the list. If only I was as good at finishing projects as I was good at starting them. It always seems like I’m constantly busy, yet always bored. I never have time for this or that, yet sometimes I just sit at desk, staring blankly at my flickering screen, wondering what I should do. Perhaps it’s just a sign that I’m getting older. Another day, another dollar, another irreplaceable chunk of infinitely passing lifetime. I think I just need some more time to relax, and just relax. One time, I was in a cafeteria, when I saw a girl, sitting by herself at a table. She was delicately taking tiny bites of a cherry tomato, and was just sitting there, looking out the window. Not reading, not talking with a friend, not doing anything, while she ate. She seemed to be able to just relax, and calm herself with all the commotion going on around her. I was extremely attracted to her confidence, and wished that I could be like her, that I could have the ability to just sit at a table by myself and just eat. Perhaps it will just take some more time.

Apparently, I’m never too busy for me.

I should end off every night with a hot shower, and the addition of an entry. I swear, it’s like therapy.

I’m still waiting for my iPod, which should be coming in this week. The idea of being able to bring my entire music collection with me wherever I go is just too tempting. That way, when I need a Tool song, I can simply bring it up, instead of bringing a Tool CD, just in case. I love you already iPod.

I happened to stumble upon a song apparently called Dan Automator, by Tomahawk. There’s something about this song that is just speaking to me right now. I can’t even understand 90% of the lyrics, but Mike Patton just does such a great job with bittersweet emotion on the lyrics. The melody is just so…wrenchingly tragic, yet dulcet. The only problem is that I’m pretty sure it’s not a Tomahawk song. I saw them in concert once, and they didn’t sound anything like this. Also, there’s a DJ called Dan the Automator whom Mike Patton worked with as a side project, and it’s just not likely that Tomahawk would name a song (incorrectly) after him. That and the fact that the Tomahawk discographies never mention Dan Automator as a track listing. I wish I could get the real name for this song, so I could give it the respect of a proper track listing. I’m surprized that I was able to hold off on an entry yesterday. Usually when I start up a page again (I don’t like the word journal, because it’s not, and half the time I’m just ranting about something), I’ll just flood the database with entries, and it will slowly become less frequent as time goes on. Of course, when I have a girlfriend, I feel I can’t write anything at all. It’s like my page is a girlfriend, who just listens to me hate so well, and never questions what I’m thinking, or why I’m thinking it. I love you too, you porcelain faced webpage.

I was flipping through some fashion magazines, and read about an art exhibit being held about the evolutions of fashion and styles. They mentioned a ballooning-dress by a Japanese designer as a witty piece, and a perforated-wing outfit as breathtaking. The art of fashion has always puzzled me; it’s something that I’m completely ignorant of, that I don’t think I will ever understand unless someone explains it to me.