VanZandt's blog

I've been to this concert, because of you.

I was in anguish for a while.

Now you get your ticket.
Only, I'm the conductor this time.
This whole undoing of you is my perfectly synchronized orchestra.
Your time may be just about at hand.
It's been months, and you finally thought you were safe.

You're not.
I've waited.

Now, my waiting has brought me luck.
The perfect instruments have fallen into the hands of my performers.
They know the songs, the bows of the cellos and violins shall cut you as deep as they did me.
And deeper still.

I've set the stage, and now we shall see how well this production takes flight.
With any luck, when the last note is struck, you will be broken.

It's not that I'm still hurt, the veins of this pantomime run with principle and vengeance.

I want to make you suffer.

And it's so beautiful; a much more finessed performance, playing the same song as you did in your pitiful rehearsal.

I was given only a day to know you, and you took me by great surprise.
For someone at your age to be so lively, you gave me hope in the old.

I went to your house with my mother to celebrate your brother's birthday.
I've known your brother for most of my life, but he's never had much to say.

I didn't know him before he went into the coma, but it's not hard, even now to recognize his genius.
Beyond losing to him in chess, I am amazed also by his creations; wheeled chairs that parallel bicycles, giving new light to the worlds of those previously confined to the degrading common chairs so popular with the corporations attempting to spend as little money as possible on those that need help.

Your other brother, who has everything to say, also brings happiness with his creations; his perfectly grown apples, his delicious cider donuts, his spicy Ginger Jack. He, like you were, is a beacon of sprightliness among my precursors.

Today I saw a yellow convertible Mustang, driven by an elderly man and presumably his wife, this car bore the license plate 'HAVNFN.'

Seeing this served to make my day slightly worse, because in my perfect world, everyone should drive morose looking, old fashioned steel automobiles while still preserving the environment.

A yellow Mustang, especially with two such plates, campaigns against this dream of mine.

I pondered this means of transportation as we drove behind it for some time, and came to the conclusion that these old people were nothing but complete anarchists, for our government does not want our seniors to drive flashy cars and 'HAV FN.' The current government wants our elderly to pay copious amounts of money for life insurance and prepare to die.

Rock on, you saggy old rebels. Rock on.

I'm sitting in Barnes and Noble.
Enjoying my grunge-punk-electropop.

'Look at me' My music screams, silenced by my headphones.

No one looks, but I love the sound.

I'm sitting by the panoramic window on the second story, watching the people in the bus stop and parking lot. They could see me, if they would just look up, but for now, I'm just and observer.

Refugees and suburbanites are packed like sardines in the little covered bus stop. It's awkwardly separated by black and white. We're taught that segregation has ended, but I guess it wasn't that easy.

Now it's not bred from racism as much as social awkwardness.

Now I'm listening to Jesus Was A Terrorist by Dead Kennedys.

A few minutes ago, I planted erotic literature in the bible section. Maybe they'll learn something.

A small yet obese child makes his way towards the store with a pleasing waddle.

I love the days of summer.

I sit on the steps of city hall.

Surrounded by crusty punks and traveller kids.

People I've known.

People I've just recently met.

We talk to a man who's lost his mind. He's just a surrogate for the person he once was, I think. Or maybe he was always like this.

Regardless, he's still enjoying summer.

Right now, that's all that matters.

I don't have a girlfriend right now.

Regardless, I'm still enjoying summer.

Some friends are dropping acid later, and I'm worried for them.

Regardless, we're still enjoying summer.

Some guy just got arrested.

I don't think he's enjoying summer.

I have to go home soon, but I'll enjoy this day until then...

A friend's trying to stop drinking. He's not enjoying it. But he can still enjoy summer.

I watch it all happen.

They get into drugs.
They clean up.
They get arrested.
They fall in love.
They fall out of love.

I've got a friend. If anyone asks, he's my 'best' friend.
He's not the strongest or smartest person I know.
We get in stupid fights over stupid issues.
But I know him.
I've known him since we were three or so.
He's familiar, and that's sometimes everything you could want or need in a friend.
I know him, and he knows me.
We're still kind of alien to one another, but that's good too.
He's all angst.
I'm all douche.
We're still friends, despite our flaws... And that's something special.

12 Years.

That's something special.

I know him and he knows me, but we don't pretend to understand each other.
Neither of us have brothers.
We both have sisters.
We vehemently battle our domestic over-femininity.
But sometimes it feels like we're losing.

I eat his soup and release the demons in his microwave.
He eats my waffles and melts my butter.

His dad flashed me at two o' clock in the morning the other week.

12 years doesn't prepare you for that.

I was watching a movie.
It was violent... Probably Fight Club or Boondock Saints.

I don't know.

My mother walked into the room.

She asked; “Why do males enjoy violence?”

I lied; I said I didn't know.

It's because we're stupid and competitive, we want to show that we're better.
We want to show that we are the alpha male; the one who can kill you.
Faster, stronger, smarter... No, not smarter, you don't need that. You need cleverness and intelligence to 'win,' but you don't need to be smart.

It's just the primal urge.

Kill.
Sex.
Evolve.

But now, what are we evolving?

Better looks?

Bigger penises?

Perkier breasts?

Maybe intelligence...

No, we've got google for that. There's your damn collective intelligence.
We've become a hive.

We don't survive with our tribe... Because there is no tribe.

We are one.

But it's a 'one' spawned from the most disgusting and pathetic form of unity.

Looking at you, you change. Looking at you is looking at a sun.

You are always beautiful.

Depending on the circumstances, you can illuminate everything around you for millions of miles.
You can give life.
You can make beauty.
You are beauty.
You are life.
You are all things necessary for my survival.
Depending on the circumstances, you can kill.
You can suck the essence out of any living thing.
You can wither nature.
You can destroy life.

In short, you can cause grief unending.

You are a sun.

But a sun is just a star, and there is an innumerable amount of stars, you were just the closest. Now I've left this planet, and the vastness of space is possibly the most crippling and beautiful thing I have ever seen. Here, I may find more stars, that give way to a better life, or I may find nothing and drift until I die.

You know it's bad when you wake up and it's June.
That means, simply the feel of summer is enough to pull you into a dangerous addiction.
Maybe you already have one, if you do, may not know it. It varies on how far into it you are.
At first, you enjoy it, but then again, it's nothing too deep, it won't kill you, will it?
At second, you enjoy it more, no matter what's going on, it's your guiding light, and it's all you feel.

Bliss.

At third, you need it. You still enjoy it, now more than ever, but you can't exist without it.
It's in you. It's around you. It is you.
You cannot escape it. But then again, you would never want to escape something so amazing.
You eventually lose interest in so many other things, but you still have your light.
At forth, you are deep. So deep, and you never want to let go. Then it hurts you, and it REALLY hurts.
At fifth, you realize what it's done to you, and you need to get away, it betrays and destroys you.