Tyler is a kid I've known since he was in 7th grade (whilst I was a freshman in high school). I knew him when he was a wiry lad. I was there when he got his turntables, and he was so excited - and then, over the next few years, he practiced relentlessly and became awesome at it. Later, one of his loves ended up being Brazilian Ju-Jitsu. Now, he just had his first fight against a much older kickboxer. Tyler rocked him. The guy landed one punch and it was just to the side. Tyler had about 50 shots, all connecting. It was amazing and barbaric and I liked it and disliked it. What do you say to violence?
There's civilty to it, of course - they'll give a polite hug at the end of the match - and some of Tyler's teammates went over to give respect to the opponent's coach. Still, though: BLOOD EVERYWHERE.
That's not true.
Today was sort of stormy; I remember driving somewhat aimlessly and thinking that I should really get straightedge about lifting weights and whipping myself into shape. This curious optimism started to creep in, and then I saw a roadsign that said "MOWING AHEAD" but I read it as "MOVING AHEAD". A coincidence, but a delightful one nevertheless.
I hope Jeff Ra is doing well in Seattle, as there's a slew of people who miss him. More accurately, his absence is very noticable because he's such a character.
Came home, pet Lucca for a bit, came here. It's been a long time since I've updated, and this still doesn't quite feel like a true update. Oh, and my sales and marketing job is going well, but in conjunction with Starbucks it's a bit much. I'm tired of Being My Job. It feels like all I do is work. I wish I could spend time with all of the people who I love. I wish I could shake out of this generic update - the kind that people randomly click the diary address of, hoping that I'm some awesome mad scientist or fire-breather or psychopath. I'm not - I'm a Colorado resident driving under drizzly Colorado skies, ritually going to work when the alarm clock says so, hiding fragments of poems at the workplace, trying to bat away a lot of criticism that has come my way, trying to please too many people at once, trying to write music that eventually turns on itself, etc etc.
I feel like I'm floating away from things that matter. At the same time, I feel closer to the route that I'm supposed to take. This isn't to say that I'm supposed to ditch everyone that I love - I'm just saying that my priorities aren't in order but they're getting there.
I don't want to be some sad lean guy, moving from place to place like an upright willow tree branch with a band t-shirt on. Just, arrrrr, I used to be a knife. I want that keen edge, that honed wordplay, that kind of almost frantic energy that was so good and fulfilling. I'm tired of fucking around with whims; now I'm going towards what I want to be.
Some of the things that mean so much to me are most of the people who read this. So know that, at least. In closure, a picture of my dog:
Luccabone,
Jared