this party i'd envisioned was what might be termed the "perfect teenage moment". working with my band all summer i'd had two goals : record an EP and play a house show, and i'd be damned if this house show wasn't the most bitchin party ever thrown this side of Aztlán.
for the three preceding weeks things seemed to unroll with almost fate like precision... my parents were getting out of town exactly the weekend that would set the stage for the ENDOFSUMMA HOUSE SHOW... mother decided to stay behind... hoping and praying on my part she appeared ready to leave... she stayed behind again... another friend's house opened up... tuesday night it would be... guest list was set... everyone was hyped... little to nothing could ruin the first gig that i'd ever play.
there was a small earthquake that became the news story of the day, the day of the party. to my facebook status reading "can you feel the excitement" was added "EVEN THE GROUND BENEATH MY FEET WANTS TO PARTY". in an ironic name change our facebook event name became AFTERSHOCK 2011.
i showed up at friend's house at four to start rehearsing with the band and quick quick quickly our material was spot on. slight change-ups in our setlist amounted to some frustration but this was resolved sitting outside for a smoke. here another issue which hadnt really hit the forefront of my mind became evident. the friend, jo-, who was letting us use his house, had a little brother, au-, entering his senior year of high school, who had scheduled "his" party for the same date.
a conflict of interests was becoming apparent.
his regulation for getting in was some of the most discriminatory bullshit i'd ever heard... "booze, bitches or bud". my regulation was simple, capitalist and take-no-shit... five bucks. this would pay for alcohol and a little reimbursement for the performers. it was evident that a roundtable discussion was necessary, so i beckoned that au- and his friends, who were all stoned as gourds, join us outside for a meeting of the minds.
though it took some convincing on my part, my endeavor to elevate the boy's mind above his childish high school mindset was successful, partially on account of a chance phone call from my friend, mo-, which confirmed that his rapper friend would show up and do a bit. he'd also be bringing a boatload of weed.
we went out to grab burritos and pick up some friends as the first guests showed up, paid their five bucks, and walked in. as evidenced by the clearly cheerful nature of the guests, everything was going according to plan...
MORE IN PART TWO
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
ZENARKS1
my life revolves around cycles of marijuana, ecstasy, acid and cocaine that were opened up for me by the little black man that visits my room every night. he stays for short periods. then leaves. occasionally he drops a freestyle rhyme. my favorite thing about him is that he's a warrior too. he just uses his words to do battle.
ive gotten a bad rap for my "drug habits". the truth is drugs are only a gateway for greater understanding of the world around and always have been. the truth is... the only habit i keep is a pact i keep with myself to never have a habit. Never do something subconsciously without a decided forethought. one which keeps my attention focused on the future and keeps the future in my hand. not that of any institution.
i was invited to a moustache and cleavage party this thursday. i'll probably find a girl there and do lines off her tits. maybe she'll wanna do the same off my chest. egalitarianism. it's the way of the future. after that we very well might fuck. if we do i hope she wants me as bad as i'll want her.
last saturday we hung around U Street rolled as a couple ball bearings smoking weed outside the clubs. they wouldn't let us in so we puzzled over why they exist at all. our girls walked in fronting a twenty dollar cover charge only to stroll back out finding us at the front of the line bullshitting with the man who stood guard and made sure no one wore shorts or any such things. young professionals can be entertaining in their dedication.
we ended up getting back to embassy row and spending the night in a friend's appartment. our girls were butterflies and it was mentioned a couple times we might be back in the 60s.
who the fuck knows?
this is my life
ive gotten a bad rap for my "drug habits". the truth is drugs are only a gateway for greater understanding of the world around and always have been. the truth is... the only habit i keep is a pact i keep with myself to never have a habit. Never do something subconsciously without a decided forethought. one which keeps my attention focused on the future and keeps the future in my hand. not that of any institution.
i was invited to a moustache and cleavage party this thursday. i'll probably find a girl there and do lines off her tits. maybe she'll wanna do the same off my chest. egalitarianism. it's the way of the future. after that we very well might fuck. if we do i hope she wants me as bad as i'll want her.
last saturday we hung around U Street rolled as a couple ball bearings smoking weed outside the clubs. they wouldn't let us in so we puzzled over why they exist at all. our girls walked in fronting a twenty dollar cover charge only to stroll back out finding us at the front of the line bullshitting with the man who stood guard and made sure no one wore shorts or any such things. young professionals can be entertaining in their dedication.
we ended up getting back to embassy row and spending the night in a friend's appartment. our girls were butterflies and it was mentioned a couple times we might be back in the 60s.
who the fuck knows?
this is my life
Saturday, August 13, 2011
EXPANSION #1
EXPANSION #1
those night creatures creatures of darkness creatures of light
it's all the same seen in the right light
we sacrificed our dignity for a piece of the pie
we sacrificed our souls for the love of the dime
so a few INDIVIDUALS stood out the most
for not giving a shit about what mattered least
really and truly and truly and really
i don't care if you're barack obama or lady gaga
prove you're worth something
those night creatures creatures of darkness creatures of light
it's all the same seen in the right light
we sacrificed our dignity for a piece of the pie
we sacrificed our souls for the love of the dime
so a few INDIVIDUALS stood out the most
for not giving a shit about what mattered least
really and truly and truly and really
i don't care if you're barack obama or lady gaga
prove you're worth something
Friday, August 12, 2011
zenarchist creed
LAND OF THE LIVING DEAD
it was thought that an idea might elevate their minds to a higher plane of consciousness. an idea not yet hatched. not yet latched onto by the larval threads of their psyche. but unfortunately the idea had not yet come.
to others it was obvious. it always had been. always would be. something or another written a thousand years previous. a thousand years since.
to others still it was a laugh. that anything that the mind could conceive would be a better fate than the one they themselves had constructed with their own brains and wits and fate and laughter.
and yet of the tribes mentioned… rarely did they intermingle. only passing glances shot fearfully in the dark. occasionally a word spoken in dark sarcastic glistening fury, for that was the only language they knew how to speak.
that of death.
but a few emerged from the wasteland with tales to tell and lives to live. never once did this select group of adventurers pause to ponder whether their path was the "right" one. never once did they stop to think at all.
their cult was that of Zenarchy.
absolute freedom of the mind paired with absolute freedom of the body paired with absolute awareness of one's actions paired with an absolute hilarious disregard for rules and regulations.
their cult was that of Absolutism
and so they walked…
surviving…
while the others walked…
slowly dying…
the stories that here have been accumulated serve one purpose and one purpose alone :::::
TO ENLIGHTEN THE WAY FOR OTHER LOST SOULS ::::
it was thought that an idea might elevate their minds to a higher plane of consciousness. an idea not yet hatched. not yet latched onto by the larval threads of their psyche. but unfortunately the idea had not yet come.
to others it was obvious. it always had been. always would be. something or another written a thousand years previous. a thousand years since.
to others still it was a laugh. that anything that the mind could conceive would be a better fate than the one they themselves had constructed with their own brains and wits and fate and laughter.
and yet of the tribes mentioned… rarely did they intermingle. only passing glances shot fearfully in the dark. occasionally a word spoken in dark sarcastic glistening fury, for that was the only language they knew how to speak.
that of death.
but a few emerged from the wasteland with tales to tell and lives to live. never once did this select group of adventurers pause to ponder whether their path was the "right" one. never once did they stop to think at all.
their cult was that of Zenarchy.
absolute freedom of the mind paired with absolute freedom of the body paired with absolute awareness of one's actions paired with an absolute hilarious disregard for rules and regulations.
their cult was that of Absolutism
and so they walked…
surviving…
while the others walked…
slowly dying…
the stories that here have been accumulated serve one purpose and one purpose alone :::::
TO ENLIGHTEN THE WAY FOR OTHER LOST SOULS ::::
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