sometimes, i wonder what i look like from the outside... a weird, unsmiling guy wandering around with wild hair.. i guess i don't score too high on the 'friendly' scale.. but people are afraid of me on a visual basis only.. as far as i know, i'm not a particularly "bad" or "mean" guy... but i guess everyone can justify themselves...

it's funny, though, how many people i've spent ages with, but who still don't have a clue who i am.. they might know me for what i've done, but not for my attitude, they don't know how i think.. i admit, i have a twisted sense of logic; but i've always gotten through alright with it.. which means it's not particularly flawed... so why is it so hard to understand?

when i feel shut in, trapped, bored, alone, i often go outside, bike off to some remote, unpopulated location that i can't recognize, and spend some time musing, smoking, getting high, listening to music... so long as none of it is familiar to me..

"I walk the streets of Japan till I get lost,
'Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
With a graveyard tan carrying a cross;
'Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
I like studying faces, in parking lots,
'Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
I like driving backwards in the fog,
'Cause it doesn't remind me of anything

The things that I've loved, things that I've lost,
The things I've held sacred, that I've dropped
I won't lie no more, you can bet;
I don't want to learn what I'll need to forget"
- Doesn't remind me, Audioslave

went for a walk today, as usual... took a whole new direction, ended up someplace i've been before... suddenly, the huge forest that surrounded the area i live in, has shrunk a whole lot. construction crews move in, cut it all down, and build homes.. i live on top of a large 'hill', i guess you could call it... there are many ravines, one of them has become St. Joseph Boulevard... the houses on the edge of the incline are built on clay that happens to be very unstable during the rain... they keep the trees on the incline, simply because the root systems keep the clay in place... if they didn't need them, they'd cut them down, to have a better view of the boulevard *snorts*.. i find that kinda funny, and sad at the same time... does no one walk through a forest and enjoy it for what it is, these days? of the countless hours i spend, wandering around and lost, i meet maybe two people. it's pathetic. not that i mind that no one's around; but since when are trees an accessory, simply a means of keeping the ground in place?

there's a beauty in the fleeting; i guess that if things were eternal, we wouldn't enjoy them as much... the way you feel right after your first toke of the joint; the feeling you get when you sit on the ground, lean back against a tree, look at the countryside and enjoy it for what it is; the sense of beauty attributed to everything, when you walk into a new place, and nothing gets caught up in the banality of routine and everyday life.. none if it lasts, but these are the things i'd gladly live for.

i often see things, and something that keeps recuring to me these days is of a figure walking away, and i know he's smiling his half-smile, shaking his head; sometimes on a dirt path in a clearing, back towards the forest; sometimes in an urban setting, walking off into the shadows, leaving some people behind that don't seem to care whether he's there or not... i know i'm not that guy, i don't look remotely like him, but i know how he feels, i often feel like that myself.. it's not a sad thought, he just keeps on doing his thing as he walks right out of his surroundings, to find a better place; sometimes he returns, sometimes he doesn't... rancid captures the mood pretty well..

"Like sand, just take your dreams away,
Running on the ground.
At the end of the day it's your life, your loss,
And you can't turn the clock around

I said all I've got, you can have for tonight,
But you better not miss your shot;
You're letting yourself get into all kinds of danger
Soon enough you're gonna get caught

They had a feeling,
Was like you had to prove you're one in a million;
And I'm talking 'bout junkies, been dealing
This time, the drugs are you,
And they'll come through,
They ain't gonna stop, 'til they get what they want

And I say
Nobody knows me, I'm all alone,
Ah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah, I gotta go..
It's a Hollywood bus stop and the party's over;
Ah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah, I gotta go.."
- Backslide, Rancid

...and by now, it's high time i left..