panic! at the fuck you
jeff buckley - everybody here wants you
you knew what was comming when you told me you'd try.
standing up is so much better when theres someone standing beside you to model yoruself after. to no vain extent, just posterity. and maybe alittle consistency. whats a copyright worth to the dependable. they've got bigger problems. nothing like a unearthing lack of dilemma to really fuck shit up. in so many ways my own fragility has been my worst enemy. in so many ways my fear has turned myself against me. predictable i guess. its not like fear rode into town looking for a hot game of cards, a fast girl and pint of the landlords finest. its had an agenda since we first met. we should all be aware. of any man who keeps his fears at hand. or normally somewhere between the shoulders and the skull. normally so tightly suqeezed and safe there doesnt seem to be any room for a neck. i received a massage the other day. an older woman. had been practicing massage therapy for upwards of 15 years. said she had never worked on a person with more knotts. she was in shock at how tense i was. figures. i guess i have been alittle over concerned with the softwood lumber dispute as of late. (oh and a few other minor situations in my life, such as, oh, work, relationships, health, relationships, work, laundry, work, relationships, sushi, relationships, work, my car, work, relationships {replace work with: Making the next record, writing the songs, deadlines, touring, travelling, performing, singing, my throat, writing, fans, emails, demographics, album sales, numbers numbers numbers} {oh and replace relationships with: Tam, mom and dad, matt and all my friends, being away from them. being around them. spending time with them. being there for them, KEEPING them}) all in all i'm a lucky son of a bee sting. HA. theres really only two ways to approach this. i can over compensate for a staggering lack of confidence by over asserting myself, shooting off round after round into the pitch dark, cause hey, at least i was shooting. or i can rest alittle easier and know that as long as i work hard and keep focussed i'll end up alright. jesus that looks so fucking good on paper. if you really think about it, just about every self respecting individual, who, when applying the basic principals of hard work and consistency will end up, at the end of the big life machine, in good shape at worst. that being said, i have such a tragic nack for panic. i noticed it today. it revealed itself in such wonderfully gay poetry. (this is the part where i tell you what i'm talking about, but just for the hell of it i'm going to change the subject untill i feel like going back to telling you about the panic story.) i'm really actually upset about something. after having witnessed much debate about whether or not the BRITISH "Office" (popular and rather histerical television show) is more funny (funnier) than the AMERICAN "Office" (adaptation of the original british 'office', just made more stupid (stupider) for fans of fox news, walmart and nascar who concidentally happen to live in the greatest nation on earth. hehe.) having finally watched the US "office" i have come to the conclusion that they're both pretty funny. and arrested development is still so much more good (better) than both. anyway. back to my story! where were we> oh yes, weak weak poetry. and panic. so i've taken up swimming. and for the past several weeks now i wake up every morning with matt at 6am and go down to the local rec center. its has already yielded tremendous results. i'm clearly in the best shape of my life. however i've had quite a problem with it all. and i havent been able to shake it yet. when i'm in the water, i'm not scared of it. but for some reason i have this sily fear of sinking. NOT drowning, but sinking. what this does is, while swimming laps, it causes me to paddle alittle overzealously. pretty much near frantic swimming. and as a novice swimmer i shouldnt be swimming in the fast lanes already. but i seem to be the fastest swimmer in the pool. in no way a good thing. in no way a productive thing. i didnt say efficient. just fast. with numerous breaks for breathing. oh yeah, i'm still having trouble breathing with my head in the water, not in, just out. still figuring that out. and today, this morning, as concentrated so very hard with my head down in the water, stroke after stroke, trying to slow myself down, relax, and breathe out while paddling, i realised how much of a struggle this was. and in almost every other aspect of my life how much of a struggle this is. pacing myself. my best friend matt, has done a triathalon, is not a triathlete, but has done one. he's bigger than i am. not overweight, but bigger. has never been the fastest or the strongest, but has never missed a beat in his life. the most consistent athlete i've ever seen. can run 15 laps around a track and each one will be within 2 seconds of eachother. likewise, almost every aspect of his life is very well paced and balanced. this is not an exhortation for you to find someone fantastic in your life and model yourself after them. this isnt even a brainstorm on what not to do. this is just my findings and where i think i need to improve. ha. vastly. in so many ways (not all ;) ) i find myself jumping head first into whatever it be, at top speed, and then running out of steam shortly after. basically the hundred yard dash. i was always really great at that growing up. and would pass out shortly after, having given it every ounce of strength in my body. a perfect example of how i do things, i once tried my hand (well more my feet and legs) at the 200 yard run
you knew what was comming when you told me you'd try.
standing up is so much better when theres someone standing beside you to model yoruself after. to no vain extent, just posterity. and maybe alittle consistency. whats a copyright worth to the dependable. they've got bigger problems. nothing like a unearthing lack of dilemma to really fuck shit up. in so many ways my own fragility has been my worst enemy. in so many ways my fear has turned myself against me. predictable i guess. its not like fear rode into town looking for a hot game of cards, a fast girl and pint of the landlords finest. its had an agenda since we first met. we should all be aware. of any man who keeps his fears at hand. or normally somewhere between the shoulders and the skull. normally so tightly suqeezed and safe there doesnt seem to be any room for a neck. i received a massage the other day. an older woman. had been practicing massage therapy for upwards of 15 years. said she had never worked on a person with more knotts. she was in shock at how tense i was. figures. i guess i have been alittle over concerned with the softwood lumber dispute as of late. (oh and a few other minor situations in my life, such as, oh, work, relationships, health, relationships, work, laundry, work, relationships, sushi, relationships, work, my car, work, relationships {replace work with: Making the next record, writing the songs, deadlines, touring, travelling, performing, singing, my throat, writing, fans, emails, demographics, album sales, numbers numbers numbers} {oh and replace relationships with: Tam, mom and dad, matt and all my friends, being away from them. being around them. spending time with them. being there for them, KEEPING them}) all in all i'm a lucky son of a bee sting. HA. theres really only two ways to approach this. i can over compensate for a staggering lack of confidence by over asserting myself, shooting off round after round into the pitch dark, cause hey, at least i was shooting. or i can rest alittle easier and know that as long as i work hard and keep focussed i'll end up alright. jesus that looks so fucking good on paper. if you really think about it, just about every self respecting individual, who, when applying the basic principals of hard work and consistency will end up, at the end of the big life machine, in good shape at worst. that being said, i have such a tragic nack for panic. i noticed it today. it revealed itself in such wonderfully gay poetry. (this is the part where i tell you what i'm talking about, but just for the hell of it i'm going to change the subject untill i feel like going back to telling you about the panic story.) i'm really actually upset about something. after having witnessed much debate about whether or not the BRITISH "Office" (popular and rather histerical television show) is more funny (funnier) than the AMERICAN "Office" (adaptation of the original british 'office', just made more stupid (stupider) for fans of fox news, walmart and nascar who concidentally happen to live in the greatest nation on earth. hehe.) having finally watched the US "office" i have come to the conclusion that they're both pretty funny. and arrested development is still so much more good (better) than both. anyway. back to my story! where were we> oh yes, weak weak poetry. and panic. so i've taken up swimming. and for the past several weeks now i wake up every morning with matt at 6am and go down to the local rec center. its has already yielded tremendous results. i'm clearly in the best shape of my life. however i've had quite a problem with it all. and i havent been able to shake it yet. when i'm in the water, i'm not scared of it. but for some reason i have this sily fear of sinking. NOT drowning, but sinking. what this does is, while swimming laps, it causes me to paddle alittle overzealously. pretty much near frantic swimming. and as a novice swimmer i shouldnt be swimming in the fast lanes already. but i seem to be the fastest swimmer in the pool. in no way a good thing. in no way a productive thing. i didnt say efficient. just fast. with numerous breaks for breathing. oh yeah, i'm still having trouble breathing with my head in the water, not in, just out. still figuring that out. and today, this morning, as concentrated so very hard with my head down in the water, stroke after stroke, trying to slow myself down, relax, and breathe out while paddling, i realised how much of a struggle this was. and in almost every other aspect of my life how much of a struggle this is. pacing myself. my best friend matt, has done a triathalon, is not a triathlete, but has done one. he's bigger than i am. not overweight, but bigger. has never been the fastest or the strongest, but has never missed a beat in his life. the most consistent athlete i've ever seen. can run 15 laps around a track and each one will be within 2 seconds of eachother. likewise, almost every aspect of his life is very well paced and balanced. this is not an exhortation for you to find someone fantastic in your life and model yourself after them. this isnt even a brainstorm on what not to do. this is just my findings and where i think i need to improve. ha. vastly. in so many ways (not all ;) ) i find myself jumping head first into whatever it be, at top speed, and then running out of steam shortly after. basically the hundred yard dash. i was always really great at that growing up. and would pass out shortly after, having given it every ounce of strength in my body. a perfect example of how i do things, i once tried my hand (well more my feet and legs) at the 200 yard run
posted by honest at 3:02 PM
