the moral of the story

once when i was 7 [seven] years old, my dad's friend asked me:
[what do you want to be when you grow up?]

i decided to impress her. i had heard them say good things about lawyers and my dad always told me how much money they made,
so i told her:
[i think i would like to be a lawyer. lawyers help people and they're important.]

my dad was happy because thought i was serious.

i don't think he's realized that i wasn't.
by the way i'm not 7 anymore.
so the moral of the story is
LITTLE KIDS SHOULD KEEP THEIR GOD DAMNED MOUTHS SHUT.

and now for your listening pleasure,

tequila mockingbird.
[my post-rock band from the future]
[way in the future.]

so i was on the topic of thinking of band names recently and decided that seriously, if there was job that involved thinking of band names, [i'd like to have that job.] forget law school.

this was not fun disguised as fun

drumline competition today.
i can sum it up in 10 words and a sprinkling of punctuation:
we got our asses HANDED to us. [HANDED. TO. US.]
it was a good thing we were only on exhibition and not actually being judged, and it was a good thing that our instructor went home early. and the drumline guys. what stunning examples of maturity they are.

but hey. it was pretty fun and now that we got the screwing up down and over with, we're gonna be amazing. [right? right...?]

it's raining fit to drown fishes outside
and i have a poem on my mind.

poem: it sounds like a song

poem time. topic for today: planes are addicting but then [space] is such a lonely topic. and jet pilots are crazy. ladies and gentlemen, sketched out quickly in lit, "it sounds like a song."

it sounds like a song

he was just a jet pilot
who looked up one day and fell in love
[looked up one day and fell in love]
with the space between the tidewater galaxies.
he fell in love and fell out of grace
[fell in love and out of grace]
and skipped off this planet like
[a rock skipping off water]
and skipped off this planet,
[skipped off this planet]
on the 3 o'clock
solar flare.

his plane was left stranded
[his plane was hung]
like a coat on the coatrack, put away.
no, actually, his plane was named juliet
and
his plane became juliet, who
fell in love
with
a romeo, named gravity.

--

random side note: i wanna go to the city. there are just some times where suburbia and the wind-up birds in one's ear simply will [notdoanymore.] my mother said she'd take me to the city week after next.

everything sounds "sketchier"

[in quotation marks, and with a little tweaking.]

compare this:

the art lesson will be after school on friday, at my house. you require newsprint paper. also you need charcoal pencils, sketching pencils, putty erasers, and normal erasers. the teacher will provide blending stumps. you can get your supplies at michaels.

with this:
the "art lesson" is friday at the usual place, usual time. you need "newsprint." also you need "charcoal" pencils, "sketching" pencils, and two different kinds of erasers. "teacher" will provide the blending stumps. contact michael if you need supplies.

[i actually have an art lesson on friday. i have all my "supplies." i mean, supplies.]