magnificently unprepared/for the long littleness of life.
Monday, May 14, 2007
damn rusty
"lucky my drumsticks are wooden."
-1xg1 drummer
my bass strings are sparkly-new-- always a bad sign for someone with sweaty hands like me. our first time jamming in months, with brand-new (coldcold sweat! DUN DUN DUN! tktktktk DUN DUN DUN!) songs and some old faves (i can SEE YOOOU, brown skin shining in the SU-UUN) in a studio that charges 1 buck for drumsticks. go figure.
cracklety-crack goes my spine, knees, shoulder, right elbow(!!) after saturday. game on! when eeghim runs past you you can feel your hair swoosh. he's that fast. even after 5 hours of training. stun-ning. i am not a running person. after junyi's 5 minutes of striding i was just about ready to pack up and go home. bah. anyway i pulled for the first time yesterday.. good stuff. now if only i could get someone to practise long long throws with me.. i'm too lazy to pick up all those discs by myself.
philippines holiday! cross fingers, toes, eyes, whatever. shites man.
q: what sound does a weekend make?
a: woosh!
+ fictions&fires
12:12 AM
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plangere, latin: to strike, or to lament.
in the depth of winter i finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.
--albert camus
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to be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest battle any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
-- ee cummings
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