.

sunday~ comes early. I rise with the dawn
I walk among the religius,

monday~ caotic, I lean into the wind

tuesday~ setaparet, sacred from it's peirs,
full of a beauty all it's own

wednesday~ strong, laced with invention,
and I pour out the music wich grows in me

thuresday~ is silent, undefined and restfull

friday~ agian they shall rise against me, and again they shall . fall and the night shall bring fellowship, healing my wounds

saterday~ a day of rest, restless rest, and the desire for more

I wish I had a heart of war

Friday, Friday, Friday

Psyopus
Day Without Rian
the Network
Renouf

at the penny Arcade
8:00
I'm not shure how much it costs
but it shouldn't be much

so if you live in rochester and enjoy hevy chaotic music
you know what you have to do.

car

well, I now have a car.
a 1990 buick century, given to me by my grandmother.
I greatly apreciat this gift, I have been kneeding a car badly and if I had bought one it wouldn't have been this nice, it's been kept in a garadge most of it's life and not drive much, it's really very nice considering it's age.
This gift is bittersweet because it means my gramdmother will no longer be driving.
she is moving into a apartmint and her house will soon be sold.
she will no longer be coming over every morning to help out around the house and do the ironing.
she will no longer stop by with extra groserys or random things to give us, she'll no longer tell me how much she loves hearing me play piano.
any way, it makes me sad and I'll miss seeing her every day.

a prayer to sleep

(remembering that I once felt)

these thoughts that form from shadow and mist
these thaoughts that form fingers to fist
they dance as shadows on the wall
they speak of the forgoten call

tonight grant me this prayer

lay me down as the dead
let there be no dreams found in this bed
let me rest with the decayed
let all mortal thought hear fade
lay me down in linnen white
my thoughts as still as a stone tonight
let all for one night be gone
pray...
reserect me with the dawn

I wish I had a heart of war

No matter how ruined man and his world may seem to be, and no matter how terrible man's despair may decome, as long as he continues to be a man his very humanity continues to tell him that life has meaning. That, indeed, is one reasone why man tends to rebel against huimself. if he could without effort see what the meaning of life is, and if he could fulfill his ultimate purpose without trouble, he would he would never question the fact that his life is worth living. Or if he saw at once that life had no perpose and no meaning, the question would never arise. In eathor case man would not find himself so much of a problem.
Our life, as individual persons and as membors of a perplexed and struggling race, provokes us with the evidence that it must have meaning. part of this meaning still escapes us. Yet our purpose in life is to discover this meaning, and to live according to it. We have, therfore, something to live for. The process of living, growing up, and becoming a peson, is precisely the gradually increasing awarness of what that somthing is.


Prologe to, No Man Is An Island by Tomas Merton.