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Burden In My Hand [23 Nov 2003|10:29pm]
[ mood | anxious ]
[ music | Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun by Pink Floyd ]

Upon the brink
Humanities clash and fall
The mother weeps forever
Another disregards the call

Where they roam...
Plains of the moon
Centuries unto sand
Blossoming soon

But fleeting beauty
A honeyed-eyed vine
The enegry of hundreds
A delicate sign

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A Change of Seasons [23 Nov 2003|10:07pm]
[ mood | sad ]
[ music | Remeber a Day by Pink Floyd ]

I can't look at myself when I cry, it makes me even sadder. I even forgot what tears taste like, its been so long. They taste like salt, bitter to remind you of the happenings perhaps. I wish I was a sloth. Nothing fucks with a sloth, they just sit, think and eat, and think some more. I can't hate him, but I can't love him, can I be his son? If I turn out like him, and treat my children the same, I won't hesitate to shoot myself. Just tell me I'm different.

This song I'm listening to is so fucking awesome. It almost makes me feel better, almost.

I can't exit my room right now. I can't even see them right now. It's a little discouraging.

I am a thinking machine! Take me to the Heart of the Sun.

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Delusions of Granduer [22 Nov 2003|06:40pm]
[ music | I Wonder by Blind Melon ]

Lack of Courage, thats my problem. Bingo

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Seed to a Tree [22 Nov 2003|06:26pm]
[ music | Soak the Sin by Blind Melon ]

I feel like shit for reasons that I do not want to discuss here, and I just wish I had more of some things and less of others. I'm wrapped up in so many insecurities that I just can't think right. I can't be like everybody else and be impulsive. AHHH! I don't get it! I feel like I have a lot of talents but enormous shortcomings in more than one place.

I'm gonna write something more:

Meil sit caidor
Bleyso maestrom
Ador rez traquo
Iq'seis mon tua

Veltico er...
Mitro suntaer
Sa've reqvio
Greype per tier

Quas firtin
Raimo meseile
Tone me ofrey
Hilto x'paile

Whatever...probably a post later.

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Let There Be More Light [19 Nov 2003|10:03pm]
[ mood | accomplished ]

Bah, I havn't been feeling quite myself this past week. I just want to stay home and play bass all day until my fingers bleed, but I'm not sick at all. Hell, I can't even fake a sickness. I'm in such good health it's crazy.

Maybe I've talked about this before, but whenever I look in the mirror, the image is kind of weird to me. It's like my residual self-image is so different from what I really look like (Or what the mirror shows). I think of myself...as I used to be. I used to be really funny and energetic and a people person. But lately, it's like I don't know anybody. The Zach I knew would have jumped in the conversation and make a joke and so on. Now I can't stop thinking about things. About anything. I never live anymore, maybe I never used to live, but now it is definitley different. Maybe it's these changes I keep ranting about. Bastardly me. Bah, I hate all of this self-pity....hmmm....I use hyphons a lot...

Jessika, you are so beautiful...

I've been thinking, Sigur Ros writes in hopelandic, so I think I'll just write a poem in gibberish: (It's supposed to be good)

Mercetado des poler
Quin we'iotser rez telvio
Fotra ma y'liodo
Nopa ie leyr noor

Slavente aqersted
Tua blas sio metas
Crey e kil hilte?
Mujeta ner ason

Ulam sit etame
Rez ma liat ador
Qes er liq'uive
Hilte io ber queror...

Making my own language would be cool... well, goodnight...

5 comments|post comment

Mechanical Solutions [17 Nov 2003|11:39pm]
[ mood | tired ]

Silver scrapes that do occur
Has he called us here today?
Oil for your thoughts, sir?
One-way tracks, they're hard to say...

Bloody gossiping garden!
I can't yet reach the sea
Before the sky can harden
And the angels can ski....

1 comment|post comment

Blow Up The Outside World [16 Nov 2003|08:17pm]
[ mood | mellow ]

I beat Yoshi's Island today....or yesterday, er, I don't remember all that well. I am still the reigning king of Super Nintedo.

Alex's parental units seem to have found his journal, and taken more than a peek inside. He told his parents that Liz kissed another guy, but when they read his journal they found a little more than he was letting on. He said they felt more pity than anger at him, I mean, why should they? He was happy that I rescued him from that scene and all of us went to the "Fish Market" for dinner. We all had clam chowder except for my dad, and I had an exquisite cream soda...Crap, I can't write well when the lights are on.

*Turns lights off*

We left the "Fish Market" and headed to Diary Queen where Alex and I both got gigantic soft-serve ice cream. I beat him in eating it and he had to head home. I had church in the morn. Well, today I put off church 'till 6, then managed to get out of R.E. I havn't done much...

Oh, I did find a nice picture of Jaco, and resorted to that when I failed repeatedly in taking my own picture. Not good times.

I'm not really feeling anything right now, it's a little weird, I probably should do my science but, life is to short for science...

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Poem-ety poem poem... [13 Nov 2003|10:13pm]
Cursing midnight disturbance
Brass machine waves
The harmony of dissonance
Rasping metal staves

Organic statue shiftin’
Bending the wind
Grounded souls a’liftin’
Soothing all who’ve sin’d

Crying oil painting
Echoes shake the mire
Dearest hearts fainting
Hailin’ the deep, cold fire

Tribes beating the war drum
These wounds must heal
Golden eye must come
Prolonging the sacred zeal
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In The Flesh [11 Nov 2003|11:06pm]
[ mood | tired ]
[ music | "Goodbye Blue Sky" by Pink Floyd ]

I figure I'll just condense the happenings of the past few days into one giant "super post", but today I'll just write a poem...A long one I hope...

I'm trying to write this like a Pink Floyd song.

*Spoken* What...? What have you done?? Damn! Can you see it? Can you?? You can't...You can't run away. They'll always come back to you... Just look at 'em... *Spoken*

Held...
Held on to the universe
These infinite walls
Are closing in...

Mother...
Where have you gone?
Why did you run?
It was just getting fun...

These boundless years are getting weary
Minds of young have never seen
Ocean's tides and mellow furies
Curtains falling on this chronic scene

For the sea has yet to wonder
The depth that which it reigns
The darkness reaches so deep
Blacker than a night's rain

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The Trial [09 Nov 2003|10:28pm]
[ mood | pensive ]
[ music | "The Trial" by Pink Floyd ]

I awoke at 4 o'clock. I looked around with watering and bloodshot eyes, seeing the sun barely on rise. I glanced toward the recliner I was sleeping on, and in moments I was gone again. Miraculously though, I woke up at 7:30, with just enough time to return to my house. The walk there was terrible. The early sun was baking and I couldn't see out of my left eye. I eventually couldn't take the "one-eyed death march", so I had to use my finger to wake my eye up. It wasn't pleasant. I walked past the "Sexton Painting" guy, and he kinda gave me a sneer like a was a drunk waddling around. For the record: I wasn't drunk, I was just damn sleepy! I dreaded opening my front door, because I knew I wouldn't like what was past it. I creaked the door open, then ran to my room to get a little shut-eye. Unfortunatley, my sister was on my bed, with every pillow in the know universe to support her fat head, so I had to sleep on the futon with a stuffed bear as a pillow. Shit, I don't want to write about this anymore...

So I've been thinking, and this thinking is not new to me, i've been contomplating this for a while. Every time something happens, either I'm ordered to do something or I see an opportunity, I think about both sides of the choice extensively. It's really fucking crazy actually. It's like a road that you've never been on before, and there is a fork with two, maybe three prongs. You wonder what will happen through every scenario, right? Well I guess I think about it so much, i've started to have dreams about it. For example: My mom wanted me to get her sweater out of the car. So, I run to the car and realize it's locked. I stand there for a little while though, and I'm just thinking, "What if I wrap this tie around my fist and just bash the hell out of that window?" Then common sense gets the better of me and I get the keys. But some night ago, I had a dream where I was in the hospital, my hand cut up and bloodied, and my parents were freaking out. It was so vivid that it was pretty scary. There is so much normality in it though. If I am walking along and not disturbing the peace, the wa, the harmony, I could just as easily throw a rock through someones window and see how it goes from there...It is so easy in action to break the harmony, but my mind fights it like crazy. There is no anger in it at all, it's just curiosity toward different things. All the people that you see on the news have taken that "other" path, the one that is always passed by and thought of less and less. Maybe they have terrible morals or ethics or whatever, but maybe they are just curious, just seeking to break the normality. A guy misses a bus, either he waits for it, or he breaks into a white sedan and high tails it out of there...So, Is exploring that different path a crime, or is it just someone looking to break the mold and see what follows?

And goodnight...

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Space Dementia [09 Nov 2003|05:02pm]
[ mood | quixotic ]
[ music | "Hyper Music" by Muse ]

I'm not sure where to begin...

I'll start at the party...

My family headed out to Macaroni Grill at about 5:45, and I sat on the terrible stucco wall, gazing out at the congestion on the freeway. Nasal congestion....freeway congestion...? Nevermind. Well, my sister's boyfriend, Dan, and his family arrive at about six, and I try to avoid major eye contact with Dan's brother, Mike, because he is the size of a small bear. I try and destoy the little beeper that indicates whether your table is ready or not, and space out. I found a rock that was "screwdriver-like", and I happily twisted the sad screws out of their little home. I remove three and look in the inside, prodding at things that may or may not be important, while my family and Dan's make idle chit-chat. As I poke and pull the bepper, something sets it off, either me or the restaurant, and I drop it on the ground. No one notices, but it looks odd to me, lying there, vibrating and humming, so I put it back together. I guess there was a Lunar Eclipse last night, but I didn't see it. Anyway, we entered Macaroni Grill, and sat at our respected seats. While people requested drinks, I asked for a water and 8 crayons. The waiter came back with 9. My sister and I began to draw a castle, with a porticullis, two towers on either side, and archers in the battlements. I drew a man being shot with arrows and with large "X"'s for eyes, but my plate covered it up. I split the portebello and pepper calzonetto with my sister. I ate two then borrowed Dan's cell phone to call Trey. I walked out of the restaurant and barely managed to hear him. Aparrently his mother rented a game, one that try didn't want, then she went back to the video store, seeking the sequel to that game. She returned to his house angry, for some reason. Either he didn't know, or I couldn't hear him, either way...

We came back to my house and ate a weird marmalade cake, and I played my bass for a bit. Dan, Mike and Leah wanted to go see "Elf", but I knew it was going to be bad, so I called Greg's cell. He was at a party, so he dropped Kyle off at his house and picked me up. Matt was waiting at the street corner with a dead look, and I stepped into the 10:00 chill. We played a sad game of Football with a little toddler, Jacob, and some of the kids. We went inside and to the backyard, throwing the football across the pool, hoping one of the little kids didn't fall in. If they did, I would've saved them with my "swimming skills." The party was boring, we presents for someone, and the music was just a little too loud to enjoy. We returned to Matt's house around 1 and I played Yoshi's Island 'till two.

More later, now I must go and shower for church. *sigh* Yippee..

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A New Machine [08 Nov 2003|12:09am]
[ mood | numb ]
[ music | "Terminal Frost" by Pink Floyd ]

Neglected updating....just a little...

Yes! Wrestling ended today! Everyone else seems to love rubbing up against the a member of their own sex, I dunno, I guess I'd rather be doing other things. My P.E. is full of these huge kids, and I'm average height...but damn skinny...almost abnormally...but not quite. Lets say border-line. Everytime the huge kids just smash me with their "gorilla-like" bulk. Kinda sick, if you ask me.

AHHHH! Here is my rant about Journalism: (Beware):

I am sitting at the computer, in the Journalism lab, working through my own lunch perioid, and I get attacked by the "Woman from Hell", Mrs. Coro, a mediocre teacher, trying to guide pupils of all ages, while she has MASSIVE MOOD SWINGS due to whatever chemical imblance she has, does not mix well. I was working on my page layout (Pg 14-15) and on my "The Mars Volta" CD reveiw has my name spelled wrong. I fix it, then I make fun of it a little to Brenden, and thats when the bomb goes off. Here is a recreation of the incident:

Me: So it had, "Zach Simon", instead of "Zach Dukerich", and I was like, "WHO WROTE THIS ARTICLE???", but I fixed it, so no big deal.
Brenden: (Laughs)
Mrs. Coro: HEY! IF YOU HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO BITCH ABOUT THE PAPER, THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD WORK YOUR LITTLE ASS OFF A BIT HARDER, YA'THINK???
Brenden: (Freaked out) Mrs. Coro...Zach was just saying it in conversation, it wasn't a criticism or anything....
Mrs. Coro: BY THE TONE OF MY VOICE, DOES IT LOOK LIKE I CARE??
Brendan: (Trying to be polite) Yes, ma'am...
Me: I already fixed the problem...I was just saying..
Mrs. Coro: THE PAGE ISN'T FIXED 'TILL IT'S PERFECT!
(Brendan sneaks off to lunch)
Me: Sorry...

Christ, I ended up staying for the whole lunch period and 2 hours afterschool just to "clock in" enough hours to pass. What a psyhco. I missed getting a ride home with Jessika, and my lunch. Geez...

I'm ready for tomorrow to come, because thats when I'm going to teach Trey some guitar and hopefully we can jam...that would be so cool...I think I got him to like Pink Floyd a bit, I made him listen to the whole epic of "Shine on you Crazy Diamond." The guitar is pretty kick-ass in that song...or any other Pink Floyd song...Well at least I've started to convert Trey to my music...

Its too late to be slaving away at this thing, I'm going to pass out...

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Micro Cuts [04 Nov 2003|11:35pm]
[ mood | tired ]
[ music | "Screenager" by Muse ]

Damnit, it's late again, and I am going to get a minimal time for sleeping. I kind of want a livejournal, but they are so hard to come by that its probably not worth it.

Blair was annoyed today, and had me take a bunch of pictures like a mad man. I went into Shindy's classroom to take a picture of him pointing out something on a map, he looked like he was actually teaching something. Weird. I saw Mark and Dean there too. Then I went to Mr. B's classroom with quite a bit of hesitation, and he hassled me once I entered. Sean sat back and laughed a little, I finally got him to stand for a picture and my damn camera ran out of batteries. Fuck. I tried to turn it on and off, but right before I pressed the button, the camera made a defiant beep, then bit the dust. I went back into the Journalism room, got new batteries, then said "Fuck it." and ate most of my lunch. Mr. B was kinda freaky though, he had an unnatural amount of facial hair. Very similar to Shindy.

*Takes break to put pants on*

Ah, then I went to lunch discouraged, because I had no lunch, but somehow I managed to milk a few items of change from the universe, and bought a Yoo-Hoo. Woo. It was awesome, as usual, then I just sat next to Jessika and fell asleep for a bit. Lunch ended and I seeped into H Alg 3-4, nearly dying of boredom. I finally found a pencil and started to desecrate one of the "newly ordered" books, by carving a nice line down the spine. I hate P.E. now. I don't see the sudden urge for people to wrestle eachother, or be bastards. Jacob wasn't there so I couldn't pretend to wrestle. I had to wrestle Mike Sideman on speed, aparrently, because he was going nuts. I double-legged him, lifted him up, set him down carefully, and cradled him. The rest of the period I pretended to wrestle and got myself out in the little bouts of "Queen Bee." After school I saw Nick walking around campus for some reason.(I thought he was still going to Westmark...) I asked him if he wanted to practice, and he scheduled 4 o'clock. Awesome. My stomach felt so shitty from food or lack there of and I just wanted to stay with Jessika...But I had to leave. :(

I got back later than I usually do, because my Mom decided to socialize with her "math" friends. I picked up my bass and went over to Matt's to practice with Nick, and Matt apparently was sick,(I didn't even notice he was gone) and tissues were scattered about and being ripped apart by his dog... I avoided that scene and just plugged in, clicked "Distortion: On" and tried somethings out a bit.

(Skip this is you don't want to know about music)
I stareted off by showing Nick this pretty dark riff that I based off of soemthing from the Nutcracker. He took it easily and made some chords. Then showed me this "Pixie-like" chord progression. 1,4,5 in A, it was no big deal, but I was thinking of laying some distorted arpeggios on top of his chords because he spends a bar on each one, giving me plenty of time. He made a little Verse/Bridge, and I solo'ed a bit. Then got tired and went home. I quasi-decided that our name would be "Atomica", I dunno, it still sounds a bit weird to me...

Please comment on this? Will ye? Bah, 'night.

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Plug-in Baby... [03 Nov 2003|10:41pm]
[ mood | weird ]
[ music | "Epitaph including March for No Reason" by King Crimson ]

It's late and I am wearing no pants. I hope people actually read this...

I'm tired of people that don't think about thier religous status and go thier whole life "semi-catholic" or whatever their parents were. Everyone says I think too much and that "normal" people decide this kind of stuff when they reach their twenties and beyond.

I can't imagine people fearing death. It makes me sad. People are so weird about it, mainly my family. My mom cries whenever I bring up Ian, or Rose, and it's like she relates every negative thought about death to them. Why can't you remember the better? Why is death attached to some negative taboo? My parents say they are open mined, but they saw my Zen books and freaked. They claimed that Zen was some kind of Nihilism, which is a really different concept, and took them away from me. My mom started to tear up a bit, and now I think I am bound to some Catholic Retreat. Bah.

Catholicism isn't taught with a lax attitude like it should be. It's nearly enforced. I used to feel this immense guilt for some reason, when I ditched Religous Education. But that is gone now, and I wish other people would ditch all the bad feelings also...

I need some sleep, that R.N. was a bastard...

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Shine on you Crazy Diamond [03 Nov 2003|04:54pm]
[ mood | pensive ]
[ music | "Welcome to the Machine" by Pink Floyd ]

I should be like Jessika and do my R.N., but I am some kind of mental...But, I do have 5 hours to do it...

Today was good, Jessika made me happy, but the day just dragged on and on... I figured out that I'm not that good of a person though, I guess I'm too critical. Talking gets me into so much trouble. I should just write things down on a little white-board like the mute kids in movies. Magical. I was thinking of joining Wrestling, but I dunno, must be my feverish ambition for the future...Right.

I'm writing a three part "epic poem" and I hope it turns out O.K. It is supposed to be about an unholy man venturing to a Catholic Church to confront God. It might be 4 parts actually... I'm nearly finished with "Part I" which is about him/her entering the gates of the Church, and thinking whether the night is chasing him...

You know, I think that life probably dosn't make sense until the end...We'll see...

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