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Jack White

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sugar never tasted so good [19 Oct 2003|01:36pm]
Ready. Set. Write.

Well, that's something I have not been doing. Nobody's been caring too much about it, either.

Where's my Christina? Where's the maintainer from Jaded Hollywood? Did I miss something?

I love Brendon. Just jamming with him inspires me so much, if I could spend the rest of my life making music with him, I would. Oh course - I realize I'm a little late on the uptake, but my relationship with him is the highlight of my life.

In a non-homosexual way.

I feel quite unaccomplished in not writing anything today, and having not cleaned up a bit around here. I'm tearing apart, and still sitting before this blasted machine and typing away.. for what? I promised Brendon something new by tomorrow, and all I've been doing this past week as far as guitar goes is blue soloing. I wrote lyrics, but they're far too personal to share with Brendon.

Besides, I'm indifferent to them now. I'm accepting the fact that I won't be able to share everything with that man.

That's all for now. Be glad I actually wrote something.
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the big three killed my baby [08 Sep 2003|07:13pm]
[ mood | bored ]
[ music | Tori Amos // Me & A Gun ]

Today was a lovely, yet lonesome day; to say the least. As for the Detriot weather, it was partly sunny, not too warm, not too cool... absolutley lovely.

Yet, I'm at home, bored and seething. I've decided that finding a girl isn't the hardest thing in the world, there's easier things... such as stapling Jell-O to a tree.

I don't feel well, and that's all you're going to get for today. Hmmpff.

III

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Stop Breaking Down [07 Sep 2003|09:15am]
[ mood | twitching, addicted, whatever. ]
[ music | Johnny Cash // Hurt ]

This online-journal expedition isn't as bad as I thought it was, I recieved a warm welcome from little Miss Aguilera, which brightened my day, as you can all imagine. I'm in a considerably better mood today, no.. not today, right now... than I was when I wrote my last entry.

As of five minutes ago, when I finished ravaging my house for the third time, and came out with a 6-pack ( of Hershey's Bars... I'm a good boy! )... I became loony-chocolate consuming Jack, rather than cynical-I-want-to-kill-Meg-and-burn-the-house-down-Jack. *shrugs* Take it as you'd like.

I was talking to my friend Holly Golightly, as I attempted to liberate my mind from the boundaries of my house. As I told her, this broken finger has kept me in the house for too long. I NEED OUT! I'm already clawing to be outside. Given, it would be easier to open the door and walk outside, but the clawing would be more dramatic.

Water, water, water. I think that typically, people drink milk after eating chocolate, but I prefer water. I have no idea why, but I enjoy water and chocolate.

I recall promising to explain my perturbation ( not a word, I know. ) of yesterday, but I don't feel like doing so at this time.

I think I should furnish you all with a list of my numerous addictions, it seems like a great thing to post. Perhaps some phobias, too. Hmmm.

My chocolate fix is already running out. I should have written before and after it, then you would have gotten the full effect. Oh well, looking back 20/20 vision.

III

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Jimmy The Exploder [06 Sep 2003|04:25pm]
Hello my dear little ones,
I suppose I'm now taking this new internet diary expedition for a run, but I'd much rather writing in an actual diary- the kind with pencil and paper, rather than having to turn on this blasted machine, come online, type many things in and all.

I was just looking at my tennis shoe. I should explain that I get bored easily and often, but I'm also easily-amused. I like to describe my mind as deserted island, with only myself walking around. I do believe that it's a small island (not that my mind is small...) and I often circle about it, looking for something, not a person, for people tend to annoy me, but for something else. Something interesting, intriguing, that will excite me, amuse me, and cease my boredom... though, if I were actually on a deserted island, no people, no spiders, nothing but sand, a palm tree or two, me, the ocean, an acoustic guitar, a notebook, a pencil.. I would be content for an extended period of time. Alas, I digress...

My shoe. It's a red converse high-top tennis shoe, originally designed for basketball sometime near when I was born, now worn for fashion, walking, running, skipping or what have you. I was told after I bought my *insert large number here*th pair of them, that they were "so me." I still don't understand how that conclusion was made, but I never questioned it. Apparently, these shoes were made in a sweatshop in China. Size 9. They must ran small, my feet are usually 10's. They're getting a little dingy lately, and I must say I've been neglecting them, favoring newer, more unique shoes.

I am Jack. John. Whatever you know me as. This is my mind working at it's full ability. No, I lied. This is my mind working during the end of summer at 4 in the afternnoon, my mind works differently in the afternoon that any other time of day.

I'm feeling sureally unrealistic at the moment. I'm feeling pessimistic and sarcastic. I'm insanely perturbed at the moment, and I will likely explain later.


III
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