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an_empty_well
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Name: greg "bojangles"
Country: United States
State: South Carolina
Metro: Greenville
Birthday: 7/20/1984
Gender: Male
Interests: coffee (or tea), conversation, poetry, music, pictures, and memories. {in reality art of any kind}
Expertise: i might indulge in many activities but am an expert at none.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Other
Message: message me
Member Since:
2/12/2005
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| what the hell? its been forever since i ventured over here. i am still kicking and screaming some times. i have done things in life, some include... finished school at northgreenvilleUniversity and presented a handful of minor league music scene shows at the coffee house where i was employed for nearly three years, coffee underground in greenville south carolina (most of which featured local artist collaborating in a mutual passion we called the leviathan project). i bought a drum set... photos should follow, if not here perhaps on myspace or facebook.
now i have moved back to atlanta. upon my return i have cleaned out my old room in my parents house. 5plusyearsofcraphadbeencollected. i am nearly done placing my belonging back in a permanent location within these walls of confinement. this entire moving process has taken 4 weeks if you don't count the scattered preparations prior to the actual move. there remains at least one more week. post holiday.
once i finish that i intend to attempt working within my field of study, psychology. that is if my prospective lead lands me in employment. perhaps i will do coffee on the weekends or maybe a music shop, instruments and/or materials. with this productivity i plan to contribute towards returning the debts i owe. as well as saving up for an excursion. i would like to travel up the east coast over to the midwest and down through the bijou before returning to the deep south. i would like to accompany 4 friends of mine. we would like to travel by van, becoming rubber tramps. all of us composing and participating in musical numbers (jammin' out some tunes). 2 being true musicians and genius song writers; one, being an incredible visual artist; another a film student; and myself attempting to capture stills of our journey along the way... we hope to document an experience of a life time, exploring various service communities within a number of our countries largest cities. we hope to catalogue the exploration on the roads and highways between destinations. we hope to meet good people who will show us a glimpse of the real, the difficult, the harsh, the ugly truths, the peace in the chaos, the joy in spite of it all, the beautiful souls existing.
then maybe i'll return and work again... with a little more knowledge and understanding... or maybe i'll go back to school.
inthemeantime, today was interesting.
i went christmas shopping. i took an envelope full of cash purposed to purchase gifts from my list. i completed one transaction at the first location. i left the envelope on the counter of the first location. i proceeded to the second location and made my selections. i couldn't find my cash. i stashed my loot behind some blue jeans. i checked the car. i realized i had left it at my first stop. i called the number on the receipt, not expecting honesty on the other line. i received it any way. i drove back to the first location. there was traffic, it stole my time. but i did get my money. it was all still there.
i then went to help my grandpa box up his belongings. he is in fact moving the week of christmas. his new house was finished and closed on friday. movers come on december 23rd. i left there to go to church in hopes of fellowship with old friends who are missed. i forgot my money again. i attempted to turn around in a driveway. my reverse lights are dim. i couldn't see the drive way. i used the mailbox to judge. it was six maybe eight feet off of the drive way. i missed. i parked my car in a storm drain on top of pinestraw. as i slid, i attempted to correct my impending error. i spun. nothing happened. i don't have a cell phone. i walked. i ran. it was bloody cold. my lungs burned. i walked again. i concentrated on my breathing. it was like my lungs were scabs. scar tissue at best. my brother, two cousins, and i drove back in my cousins truck. we didn't have a chain. we had tie locks for securing a loaded truck bed. they pushed, i gave it gas. it was enough to regain traction. we ate dinner. we had burgers. i finally made it to church. it was over.
but i did get to see old friends and make a new one. we hung out at ihops for a while. we talked and it was good times had by all, i think. i hope. thanx to all of you who were involved in my day. it was as awesome as it was horrible... and it all worked out in the end.
p.s. my lungs are still sore. and my legs will be in the morning i'm sure. | | |
| a moment ceased in rebelion to a hesitation that stems from the realization that truth be told, if you love it hurts hearts are meant to be broken on the mend means being alive again too long have i refused to feel of my own accord and living like this finds desperation lurking in the corner of every dark and lonely hour when emotion is only experienced by forceful intrusion this is no way to live in the trenches we are clearly at war with our senses and if i retreat my line of defenses or revoke my mandated resolution casualty may find me a victim of my own allusions to love, lust, or love lost | | |
| so, this week i became reacquainted with attending a venue to participate as a spectator... it had been so long since i had been to shows that i was not playing or presenting... which means i had spent the last little while pretending to be a member of a minor league music scene... the first show was on tuesday evening... murder by death... on the devils nite... it was quite suitable. the show was at new brooklyn tavern in columbia, which if you are at all familiar with the venue, you will know is a nicotine rain forest... chain smoking the whole time, we pulled out pipes during the set to become the koolest kids in the crowd... they were sold out of the blue ribbon, so... we went to waffle house afterwards where i experienced the reality of embarrassment when i tried to open the bathroom door, which was much lighter than the entrance door to the establishment that i had just come through... clarke quinte here almost ripped the door rite off the hinges... for the last 45 minutes of the trip the topic of discussion became the stories of apparitions and supernatural shit we have all heard of by one degree of separation... including the demon cat living in mine and brads hall way to our apartment... so upon arriving home around 2:30 am on halloween morning... there was no way in hell we were going to sleep... so i stayed up until 4:30 then struggled to calm my mind... show 2 of 3: straylight run... emily came to town... few better people in the world to see such a band perform with than her... we met prior to the show to converse for the sake of catch up... she needed to get her mint hot chocolate fix and i can always use coffee... so, we sank back into a forbidden existence, and slit out barely noticed... once she got in my car, she informed me that she would pay me back for the tickets through consumption of sorts... and she purchased to lubrication for our sociability... the first two bands sucked, so we opted to avoid the noise and continue our intellectual entanglement... once the main attraction was revived and stepped into place on the stage... the show was amazing... afterwards, we waited around for the rest of the crew to get off of work... this is when my every intention to avoid reality failed when she surely intended to ambush my resolution to forget her for good... she informed me of her realization of doubt and second guesses once again... and proved her self to be an adorable little bitch... who i "would be stuck with..." she's "not going anywhere..." but she "could never handle me" she said... and once and for all... she will remain... the worst idea i've ever had... unfinished and uncontained... show 3: dave bazan in ashville... my first trip to the grey eagle... also my first time ever seeing dave live... i have been a fan of pedro since just after high school... i discovered his work a little late... but i have enjoyed it none the less... the venue was awesome... they have a restaurant and bar and a comfortable listening room... i eat rice and beans at the table next to dave and his friends... the first act was a singer from some band on tour with dave by himself... his show wasn't much to speak of... the second act however, was incredible.... a man and woman duo... ashville homecoming show... she was gorgeous and sang beautifully... she also played many unique instruments... on several songs he sang through a miniature megaphone... it was awesome... dave played many new songs off of an upcoming release... and a few old favorites... he preformed in his usual fashion of q & a in between songs... overall it was a wonderful experience... and i can't wait to purchase his new album... | | |
| paper thin curtains form blue borders
around our grieving souls
where familial support strives for desperate comfort
in a sterile shelter
while chemical cocktails and electric medicine bathe our senses
in this technical haven
so,
ADVANCE! ADVANCE!
we'll transplant breath
into her surrendered lungs
and manufacture "quality of life"
with these chords and wires
through her veins and organs
we'll hold her captive
in this cancer laden chamber
where our bodies are vessels
our bodies are graves
in this cellular prison
our souls are slaves
our bodies are capsules
with molecular chains
though our bodies are mortal
our souls will remain.
the sonic pulse fades into the graphics
on the monitor above and to the left of her
while her vocal struggle to retrieve the air
is retained and dissipates through her tissues and fibers
INHALE! EXHALE!
lengthen her draw
stretched and distant
Release...
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| porcelain pink
and paler than you think
underneath
the burnt paint
streaks on your face
and the frail words you speak
give you away
they're a dead give away
revealing your secrets
as evidence to court case trials
delivered in manila folders
and stamped with red ink
declaring "case closed" so long ago
and they've long since faded
to resemble the tone
gone from your cheeks
and the skin stretched tight
over your bones
so porcelain pink
fragile and weak
but i can't be your strength
no i won't be your strength
and the frail words you speak
give you away
they're a dead give away
revealing the truth
and enough proof
to put you away
to serve your time
in your hand fashioned cage
so lock and swallow the key
your last hope of freedom
or if you wish
so choose your stage
your destine for the attention you're starved for
with such talent and beauty
we;re all an audience of your captivity... an audience in captivity
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