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More flogging nostalgia.

I've got to get a couple big trash bags of old clothes in trash bags and out the door. They've been taking up my whole closet for months now. They're going to the 'needy' (whoever that might be), which is good. Recycling clothes kills 2 birds with one stone. 3, if you're a neat freak like me. I guess I'll know who got the clothes if I ever see someone wearing my 'sneauxman' sweatshirt and husky ski cap.

I just called....to say....I love you....I just called...to say how much I caaaare.

I really ought to take pills for that.

I went to the chemlab today to do one of my lab writeups, and found out that I never finished my last one. I'll lose 50 points for being late, but at least I'll not lose 100. Damn, I'm really starting to slip in the home stretch here. No more labs, thank god. just the final (which'll be a breeze. I'm good at lab finals).

Escape from nothing, run away
Far too late , come to stay
They come and take my eyes
They come and tell me lies

Damn, I can't even remember the words to that song. I must have played that song like 20 times in front of a collective 500 something people so many years ago. I wish I could see myself back then. Best time of my life. I was up on stage, singing and playing guitar, in my band. Chicks actually DUG me back then. I have this picture of our 2nd to last performance, where we played this underage coffee-shop place where everyone who fit any definition of the word 'freak' went (rather childish place and clientele, if I recall). We're all playing this 10' by 10' stage. I'm in mid-riff, screaming some nonsense with my 140lb. thin ass wearing a wifebeater and some jeans looking rockstar with my skunk-stripe hairdo and tatto showing. Several of my friends are 10 feet away smiling, and my (then) girlfriend is there, smiling. Not pictured is my ex-girlfriend pissed off in the corner. That, my friends, was a good night. There was another picture of us all afterwards taken by my GF, but I never talk to her anymore. If I ever see her again, I'll have to ask her to make me a copy of every picture of me she has. I don't have enough.

It's not like I'm self-absorbed, to be sure.. I just notice a big gap of my life where there are very few pictures of me to show what I was , what I was doing. I just found a few recently, and I got some insight as to what kind of a person I was back then.

I remember telling myself at the end of high school that I was going to go into my dorm with my guitar and 4-track and write music all the time and play in the blues bars for extra cash. That obviously panned out..not. I tried, two seperate times, to sell my services in teaching guitar lessons. flop. I'll never lose my love fur playing guitar. especially blues. And heavy, fucking, metal.

There are few pictures of my father's childhood. There are countless one's of mine. My dad was, among other things, a pro photographer. After he died, the number of pics of me dwindled. I'll try to keep taking more snapshots.. I really like the candid shots, reality snapshots - no posing. just the way things are at T= 4:22 sunday may 5, 2002 kinda stuff.

Oh well, time to eat.