November 24, 2001

the beginning


so the midnight movie did not happen. my friends dropped me off to spend a night hidden behind the monitor.
i feel like this is a good time to explain some of my thoughts on these journals. i sometimes feel like they fit into the whole “reality craze”- everyone wanting fame for nothing. the degradation of our lives. we want to see what is behind someone else’s door. we want to buy the dream that anyone can “live the life”. to me this is a waste-
“you thought you knew but you have no idea”- ultimately this is not how i hope this appears. there are certain constraints rythmically and melodically to the expression of ideas in music. hopefully this journal can serve to fill in the blanks. that is the point of this.
well. thanksgiving was pretty uneventful. i was supposed to go out to syracuse and spend it with my friends. that didn’t happen. i am pretty depressed about it. chalk up another missed opportunity- “regret will always get you in the end”. our record won’t be out until december due to an error in the printing. but we’ll have some at our record release show. i’m pretty stoked, we’re practicing for it this weekend. we’ll be out on the east coast with throwdown/bleeding through around new years this year. it should be fun, we’ve been friends since racetraitor. we’ll be playing some new jams so look out. i hope to get some new lyrics up here soon.until then go check out the rumors at www.superherohq.com and buy an eXc dvd…
it couldn’t have been written better: you love to hate us, we love to hate you…
petey
12 June 2005 @ 1:47 am

dear valentine

When I hear tell of you with my name in your mouth, rolling it around as if you know the taste - I would rather die than have you experience that flavor. we’ve been on opposing sides of a legendary battle that you may not recall - on your long road of retribution-imagined, throughout history and outside of time. I remember the tuck of your smile from ages past, on bright winter mornings, you and I cabin-bound, just our breathing in syncopation and the snow-covered roof crying music into metal pots. I know the furrow of your brow as your mind works feverishly, sharpening knives, conjuring foils for hunting - the misery of those long dark nights with you at that whet-stone for hours until a blade was thin with one purpose. And me at your side like I had been for centuries - warming my hands over the fire and working your shoulders like Sisyphus - as if my strength was enough to roll the fury from your muscles - something born in your bones and carried through time and bigger than each world we’d lived. there was inevitable clarity - moments I’d become immune to the contagion of your mania. The times I’d learned i was not a partner but your pig to sacrifice - to stew and sup and nourish you. to be the diamond in your eye that sparks this imaginary revolution against the ghosts buried in your skin - reaching from each follicle, growing wire-strong and humming a minor key before the push of your Wagnerian catastrophe. And when I chose to fall, I fell toward you, onto your weapon and the sure solace of death - tricking you into thinking you’d won, as if that were ever the point- watched your gaze glaze divinely before leaving you for the first of too many times. So now, to hear your poison passing through our mutual channels again, to know you, your evolution cuckolded - to know you miss my dumb cow eyes, the sway of my meat - I grin hard, hard enough to cut glass. I’m not afraid of your rise, your knife. not afraid of your bite - your impotence bastes my memories. I’ve gulped mouthfuls of that bitterness just to live an extra day. I learn the hard way but you never learn. Come closer now and you’ll see what I’ve been cooking.