The highlight of my day was a marble glazed donut with chocolate cream filling.

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 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.

I’m feeling very comfortable right now. A shower just turned the activity in my brain from translational to vibrational. Writing from my second computer allows me the comfort to recline in a relaxing seat, and the luxury of watching a documentary on 2Pac, the thug poet from the west siiiide, on my other computer at the same time.