So apparently there's this month called July...

Hey y'all. How y'all doin'? Y'all-y'all. Well. Enough of that nonsense. I guess July passed and I seemed to miss most of it. Well, not exactly. I lived pretty damn well and I used my non-active time to rest and not type. My fingers are stiff and weak. I am giving up. For now......

Ciao Tutti. Ci vidiamo a subito, come non?

As reported earlier.....

....the reports of my untimely demise have been greatly exaggerated. I love plagiarizing myself. Makes me feel like I'm being properly ripped-off. How has everyone out there been? I am doing pretty damn well.... I do currently live in a structure that's better attributes seem to mimic a prison hotbox. I keep telling myself, "Just pretend like you are Michael Jackson in hell's waiting room..." Too soon... or too late. I still think the whole thing is a hoax. He and Elvis are sharing a pitcher of Budweiser at a bowling alley in Midnot, North Dakota right now, as we speak... or read... or skim. I figure most of you skim. Words just get in the way of information anyways...

Speaking of the disgraced King of (soda)Pop (Pepsi Explosion... or was it Coke... who cares?), I made a poor taste status joke about the untimely death of Michael Jordan and a few people out there took me seriously. I know faith in me in general in this fine world has been lower in the last half decade or so, but do people think I am that out of touch? I just wanted to make a joke about the misuse of the MJ initials and the fact that Mr. Jordan has a very poor history of losing a lot of his "hard" earned endorsement money to the unsavory underbelly of Chicago.... some wonderful people. Let's raise our glasses and slug one down to them!! SKOAL!

I am on my way to Summerfest. It is not quite as cool as Sommerfest, but it has it's moments. And I get to walk there.... which totally kicks ass. I will try and post my "Milwaukee Driver's Primer Version 1.0" within the next few days. Stay tuned!!!

Let's try an oldy....

Hey folks. I've been busy lately. Sorry I have slowed down the postings. I will try and do better. I found myself at a Mind, Body, and Spirit Expo this last weekend and I found I had to use the rest room. The hotel had wonderful facilities, but the only reading material readily available were pamphlets that all contained the words "Ancient", "Modern" and "Spiritual" waaaaaay too much. I had to find something else to occupy my mind... so I decided to write a sonnet. Why the hell not. It's something to do... and here it is. Enjoiez!!!

Sonnet #2

Oh what dark and misty morn

To twist and fight and tame thee

To rip asunder and leave torn

The definition maybe

Enightened, clock and hour time

A stab within the bottle

A merriment of whim and rhyme

At once both wrought and cottled

A furious future frenzied past

A twig upon the pyre

The dark eternal free at last

And all now see the liar

To verse and song and turn of phrase

The immortal spirit forever lazed

That's it. I think most of it rhymes...

2/7/09

I sit here

Uncomfortable

I have been

For much longer

I don't let it

Bother me

I'm usually

Uncomfortable

I just learn

To live with it

In a Sentimental Mood.....

Untitled

I miss her texts

Every one

No matter how brief

Copied

Or inconsequential

Every time my phone beeped

Every time my pocket vibrated

Something felt....

Warm inside me

Something felt....

Full

I miss that feeling

Most

So far....

Another Vintage Forray.....

Hey everyone. Happy President's Day Eve Eve to you all. I hope you celebrate by wearing a stove-pipe hat and freeing some of the slaves from your basement. I know I will! The offering today was written in a small (read: very small) studio apt. in Perugia, Italy. I had had a fairly rough night and was shot down by multiple women and trying to reevaluate my life's outlook. Trying, as always, to figure out what is going wrong. I am always analyzing like that. It's.....ummmm.... I don't know. I guess it's just me. Enjoy this rambling, somewhat heavy handed analysis.

A Poet's Lament


I stare at a Blank Page

No words, No meaning, No Life

And I wonder, how do I differ?

I see nothing, yet am I not also nothing?

I feel that I am shrouded

But in what I do not know

Has my life tumbled out of control?

Have I changed without my knowledge?

Perhaps.... Perhaps

I feel that my inability to communicate with humanity

Has left me with a void

Meaning is there, yet I convey none of it

Life tumbles on around me

But something seems to be missing

Have I become so inept that I've been masked?

Laughter emits from a distant source

I know not why it angers me

Where do my failings end and my life begin?

I have striven to do my best, yet who is to say this?

I feel confused, I feel alone, I feel...... off

Purpose of Life blurred

Blurred by a social concept called success

Who has made it this way?

If man is a noble being, as it has been said

Why must we suffer for simply being born into a cruel world?

My words reflect feelings, yet they are viewed by none

It seems to be no more than an empty auditorium

In which I conduct an orchestra for an audience composed of myself

Time tumbles on, what one chooses to do is inconsequential...

Or is it?

So. I think a lot of that felt fairly accurate on my current state. The success stuff semmed a bit forced. Oh well. Enjoy!

3 more hours....

Morning everyone. I am celebrating my Psuedo-Saturday by sitting around and only ingesting clear liquids. Can I get a "Yay, Fasting Lipid Panel!"? My appointment isn't until 1:30. I am kinda hungry (or hungary as I often mistype). I had an interesting night out last night. No major stories or anything, just a general interesting vibe. I did meet a repo-man. That was kinda cool. There is a Boom in the repo business right now. Fucker still didn't buy me a drink, though : P

Let's cut to the point, to the point no fakin' Cooking MC's like a pound of bacon.

I wrote another poem and I will put it here to rot.

Doyle

I'm a card player

Through and Through

It is my worst quality

I don't know

When to stop

I always play

To somehow win

I don't want to

My Dad told me

at a young age

Everything is a game

Play it to win

Because why not?

You always got to win

There's something wrong with that

I see it now

People will always look

And question your motives

Even if you have none

How would they ever believe you

Why should they?

Call a bluff

It makes the soul

Feel so

ALIVE!

That's done now. I think that is what I wrote. I was sitting in the backseat of a car and it was dark and I couldn't see what I was writing. Suprisingly, my handwriting looks the same as if I could of seen it.

More Vintage Writings....

Hey y'all! A short, quick one. This was written on a beautiful terrace at a bar called Alfo Due in the quaint Etruscan settlement of Perugia, Italia. It's truth still holds true this morning.

Zut Alors


I should quit smoking

I've been thinking about it for days and I have decided

I should really quit smoking

It does nothing good for my body

It does nothing good for my soul, yet....

I still smoke

That's it. Short and sweet and true. I miss Italy.

Quick note....

Yeah, I can't figure out the damn formatting.... dammit.

A Recent Future-Past Transcription...

I have decided to share more of my shizznit with the bored, blog-reading public. This one is a recent oldie... kinda like a Guns 'n' Roses song from Appetite....

Confusion

The residue has clogged my brain

The ash and remnant

Of 1000 lonely nights

Spent running from myself

Has made it hard

To think rationally

Has made me default

To a hyper-agreeable state

It's easier

Let others decide

Go with the flow

It's said only dead fish...

But I lay dormant

Waiting for some great moment

An epiphany

That will force me to choose

Force me to decide

Not let me be

So non-reactive

That's it. I hope the formatting stays. It seems to right justify. Wait, maybe if I use the block paragraph option. I'll try that. Late-ski all....

almost did it....

Hey everyone. I almost published the most vicious poem I have ever written. I wrote it this morning and, I was typing it, I could not believe what I had said. I am not usually like that. I will give you the one I wrote right after it instead. If anyone really wants, e-mail me at giamoitalia@gmail.com and I will send you a copy of a truly vicious work of art. I totally overused the word vicious in this intro...

Io

I am energy

I am light personified

I am creative force

I am life out loud

I am an enjoyer

I am a rejoinder

I am wit

I am emotion

I am hard working

I am a producer

I am a reactionary

I am a self-improver

I am an idealistic lover

I am not willing

To deny myself

Any of these things

That feels a bit better. Maybe a little self indulgent. Oh well. Sometimes everyone needs to self indulge.

Empty Afternoon.

Your coldness hurts me

It burns through my skin

It tears through my organ

It rips apart my soul

This I must deal with

This will not be easy

This is hard

My head hurts

and my thoughts are swimming

Early Morning Empty White Wine Bottle Blues

Good Morning Starchildren of the Universe!!!


It's time for some of them shouted through a megaphone porch blues of the days of W. Washington street.



This one is dedicated to Mr. Robert Blakely, where ever he may be and should be done in the key of F#, just to piss the piano player off.

Tempo - lento (slow blues) - 64 bpm

Ah one, Ah two, a you know what to do....

[instrumental break, 112 measures]

I look across in the morning

To the nightstand by my bed

Empty glasses, empty bottles

And this feeling n my head

Where did my ice go?

Where is my wine?

How did I get here?

Last night I was feeling soooooo fine!!!

But the lonely morning comes (lonely morning)

and there is no solace I can find

I just got an empty spot beside me

and an even emptier bottle of white wine

The week has seemed amazing

No drama no strife

The kind of week you dream of

In the dark times of life

and the entertainment lingers

in the back of my mind

the poet and her fingers

seem almost too kind

But the lonely morning comes (lonely morning)

and there is no solace I can find

I just got an empty spot beside me

and an even emptier bottle of white wine

spoken: That's alright, we gots us a couple guitars. Check yo' self!!

[guitar solo, 232 measures]

Now in the last verse I'm befuddled

My words get messed up

The meanings get all muddled

Like the fruit in the cup

A blessing falls upon us

And we see we can win

Just poor me one more glass

Of that Hendrick's brand Gin!!!

But the lonely morning comes (lonely morning comes)

and there is no solace I can find

I just got an empty spot beside me

and an even emptier bottle of white wine

[outro solo with back-up singers repeating "Lonely Morning Comes" - fade out]



Well than that's done too. I think I am also okay with this.

i sing the soul ironic...

good mourn, my folks and fellows last
and future friends forgotten
the tips of tales, the rimes of past
a new idea begotten
to pull the scale to twist the pen
to eat and drink and merry
to fall from grace and live again
the rich and dark and scary
a time would like to vastly differ
the opining of a gentry
the past assaults upon my liver
the makings of a century
sing songs of joy and love and sex
and dance around the table
the causes all but for effects
an old and tattered fable
but when will end our troubled minds
and what at last will find them
upon the tall stung power lines
we break the tie that binds them


Thank you. I did something. I'm OK with it.

Tooby ooby walla, Nooby abba naba...

....Early morning singing a song


Alright, first off I can not stand this fricking blog program writer thing. I wanted to put the first line in bold and the rest normal, but apparently this is an impossibility. I have tried everything and the body of the text is still bold. Seriously, how hard is it to have a proper text editing program on a site that primarily deals in publishing text that people have entered. Dammit. This is pissing me off something fierce right now. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

You know what else has been pissing me off? The fact that I tend to leave open ended questions on blog posts and no one seems to bother to comment anymore. Now, I must admit, I never comment on my own blog, so maybe the process is more involved than getting a two year travel visa in China, but I have a feeling this is not the case. I know people are at least loading this page, so why not take a few moments to drop your thoughts or at least tell me how much I continue to suck? I would actually prefer all of the comments to be harsh criticisms about my lack of style and flow. Let's get on this people. If I do not see more comments, I will probably continue to complain about not seeing any comments... I hope y'all don't mind having that on your conscious....

And I figured out how to fix the first problem, so I am a little less pissed... It's all in the post-editing.

Love the blogger, hate the blog....

Hi folks. I have been quite lax on the posts lately. A person who will remain nameless has been happily occupying a large portion of my free time. I am quite happy and thus, it seems I have very little to rant and blather about.

I do have some things that have been grinding my gears, though, lately. I thought I did at least.... maybe I don't. It's weird. I don't seem to have as much to share right now. I apologize to the general reading public. I will try harder and refind my proper voice. Until then, I wish you all the best. Thank you and good night.

So yeah....

I know that it seems that about half of my blogs written this Brave, New Year have been complaining about trying to get out a blog every other day. I am sorry that I am beating this issue like a dead horse. I really thought I had a follow up statement to add to that sentence, something starting with "though...", but I guess not. My problem lately is that I have become a bit of a chat addict. In the last few days, I have chatted with several folks that I haven't seen in upwards of 8-10 years. It is great to, in the very least, briefly reconnect with these folks, but, unfortunately, when I am typing in four to eight different chat windows at once, it is hard to also type a blog. I just do not have those type of keyboard skillz... I really don't think anyone has those skillz. Well, probably someone, I have just yet to meet him or her. So, here it is, another blog of excuses about not blogging. I think it's about number five it what is sure to be an ongoing series. That's about it. I kinda have to go to work. Later peeps!!

Special Bonus Game: One of the sentences above, and it's overuse of commas, is dedicated to a very special someone. Can you figure out which sentence?

Note on the other post....

First off, I don't have -1, I am one up on the flu in case that was causing any confusion. Secondly, I am not sure why the font size gradually increases as the post goes on. I tried to fix this and, as of yet, no dice. If anyone has a clue why this happened or how it can be resolved, please drop me a comment/e-mail and let me know. Thank y'all for coming.

Jim -1:Flu -0

Alright, lets first deal with the 20 lb. elephant in the room. My every other day blog concept is not exactly going as planned. For this I am sorry. My output has definitely increased, but I am falling a bit below the expected return. I, of course, have several excuses lined up for why this is not my fault. Okay, I kinda lied there. I only really have one excuse. I was stricken with the dreaded Spanish Influenza for the last few days. Though the mortality rate is upwards of .16%, I was able to barely escape death... thus the title of this update. I am actually right on target with the number of blog posts, given that I do one tomorrow. I just haven't kept strictly to the scheduled regimen of every other day. But, come on, of all you people out there who kinda know me, did you even expect me to do this well. I was pretty sure I would be dropping the every other day thing by about January 5th. All I can say is I was sick, I beat the flu, now I'm going to stick out my tongue and make that raspberry noise at mother nature.

For some added content, I thought I would transcribe an old piece of my own that I stumbled upon. I recently found three separate, but equal, poems that I had written while waiting for the Student Promotion Committee to decide the fate of my life for what I believe was the first, but may have been the second time. For those of you who have not experienced the joys of attending medical school, let me give you a brief rundown of what the SPC is. Basically, if you have any academic trouble in school, you are forced to go in a plead your case in front of a panel of approximately 20 doctors who are all heads of the various teaching departments. They are, for the most part, quite harsh and cruel to you and make you feel like you are a true piece of shit because they were all able to get through med school, why can't you. They all totally disregard the fact that the science has grown exponentially since they even had to take a class and we are falling into a more and more absurd quagmire of an educational system. Also, and this is just a guess, I think at least half of them assume that you are cheating on tests even if there is not a lick of evidence to prove this. Needless to say, a visit to the SPC is quite stressful. I found it quited my soul to write some poetry while I waited. I now present for your viewing pleasure, those exact poems.

Untitled #1
Taken from the womb
Burst forth forcefully
Propelled out of time and place
No ability to survive
No desire to continue
The last great hope
Of a failing nation
Ripped to shreds
As if to bed
The great beasts
A moment of deliberation
A lifetime considered
Then expelled
As so much trash that has come before
The wasted recycling of a future past
Nothing was learned
Nothing was saved

Who comes forth to speak
A mess of a messiah
Torn from the gloss of magazines
Found in the newspapers of time
Bleeding from all limbs
A hyperstygmatic
Unable to control his hateful lashings
Or to state his true desires
Rocked by a new light
Colored unlike the spectrum
To which most eyes are blind
But to which all must eventually see
No end in sight
For the urban plight
That sprawls before our bated breath
A wish for some, but wished to death
Secrets of a mourning flight

Untitled #2
And so at last we part our ways
Driven by an ego inflated with hydrogen
Explosive, deadly, and unable to survive
The harsh spark-filled environment
Torn down by the Templars of an ancient way
Let go to be lost
Among the vast sea of anonymity

The last one is just a fragment. I believe that I started on it and then was called back in the room to be told that the SPC reached no conclusion and that I would have to come back before them in another month. Yes, they put me through this torture and grilling and waiting just so I could do it all over again in another month

Untitled Fragment #1
But to the hills a cry rings out
Take all that you see and it will be yours
But act quickly, for there is danger about
From the likes of junkies, drunks, and whores
A telltale sign of future....

Yeah, that's where it ends. I should really try and finish that one... or at least reuse the third and fourth lines. I always liked those ones. That's it for today, folks. Hope the new year is treating you all well. I know I've been having a blast.

And now for something completely different...

So, I have my old desktop computer set up on a bookshelf at the end of my bed in my bedroom. I have paired down the unnecessary software and tried to eliminate all needless processes so that the computer can mainly be used as a media center which will play my music, dvd's and videos. On account of the age of the monitor, about 6 years old, I like to put on a screen saver for when the computer is not being actively listened too, i.e. when I go to sleep... maybe if I go to sleep is more apropos... Anywho, I was looking through the basic, Windows XP screensaver options when I saw the option for Slideshow from My Pictures. Now, I have not looked at any of the pictures on this computer in probably about a year or so, so I have little to no clue what files I had placed in my pictures.
Now is the point where everyone expects the worst... something sick and perverted. Well, you folks could not be more wrong. It turns out the majority of the files in the my picures folder are from my step sister Melissa's wedding. I have not looked at pictures from there wedding in probably about a good year and a half, or so. These pictures also include several candid shots from The Essen Haus the night before the wedding. There are several things that are especially striking me about this impromptu slide-show down memory lane. One, I forgot how long my hair used to be. I know, it's only been about five months since I cut my hair, but the pictures of me with long hair still throw me off. Second, I love how goofy my step sister and her husband are together... and how goofy my cousin and her husband are... and how goofy the majority of my aunts and uncles are... and how awesome it is that they are goofy... and how happy they look.
Maybe that's the secret to happiness. Staying goofy, even in the midst of a beautiful wedding. Goofyness definitely seems to be where it's at. I want to make a vow to be more goofy.

Forced inspiration = forced results

Yeah. I know. I promised a new blog post every other day... and I am kinda keeping up my end of the bargain. Sorta. Almost. Not entirely. I have come to this small realization that I may not have enough self-imposed motivation to keep these things interesting. Maybe I'm not cut out for the serial life style. I am currently eating some French Silk Pie from Baker's Square right now and it is quite good... I am getting it on my keyboard a bit, which sucks. I hate being messy seemingly by default. It's not that I don't try; it's just that I tend not to care. My apathy is showing again. Yuk. That cannot be attractive. Luckily I lack the proper outro-spection to see the true nature of my apathetic self, so... soooo...... I don't know. I do not feel like I would treat the aforementioned racism blog with proper pathos right now. Maybe I should do what I used to do back in my Myspace.com blog days and write a rap song. I think I can currently care enough to make up some stupid rhymes. I just need a sample now. Give me a few minutes. I gotta hit up youtube...

"But I get so nervous..."
"Start." - Janine - Soul Coughing

"Ah one, ah two, ah you know what to do!!"

............and I don't. This is a bust. I'm too stuck in my head to rhyme. sorry. maybe later.


I think I apologize too much.

Nothing better than Holiday Racism...

Okay. I might have to make this a bit quick since I am supposed to leave for a family party in about, let me see... ten freakin' minutes. Dammit. Never mind. I can't finish this in ten minutes. If I don't have time later due to the constraints of familiar camaraderie, I will post a blog tomorrow... which is technically my day off. That's how dedicated I am to my readership. Wow, I didn't think readership was an actual word. Sweet.

To Be Continued.....


Really, I guess, to be started, too....

Twas the Raging Artist inside me...

So, I recently made a promise to post a blog on this thing every other day. Yes, I know it sounds quite insane and I am worried about having enough original material, but I will give it a shot. One thing that may be difficult is the fact that I am not as truly mobile as I would like to be. I have no phone with blog writing/posting abilities. This may change in the coming weeks (read:I can get a new phone on January 15th), but for now it looks as though I may have to carry my laptop around like a purse.

Hmmmm.... I may have to get a few more laptop cases so I can properly accessorize. See you folks in a couple days.