"Thomas, im going to need a note. girls dont count." bored yall. im sitting in band writing this in my fat lil notebook cause ive got nothing to play. instrument wise that is. mine is broke, which is fine with me except now i have to sit here and listen to them play these damn songs that will get stuck in my head. i hate it. at least we are getting out 20 minutes early today for class yearbook pics. festival sucks. i want a band of my own. i already have a name in mind. id rather be home playing guitar, or rather, where i need to be. for myself you know. its completely different. maybe i will take an inpromptu road trip someday and go there. i think i would enjoy that a lot but... the hell like that will happen. a couple things annoy me. things that make life frustrating. like people that steal inside jokes. that pisseds me off. if you werent there, you dont have the right to hold jawad. and people at auto shows. i was at the expo at the convention center yesterday. it was awesome but i wont bore you with gearhead chat. it bothers me when i see a cute girlf from behind but they wont turn around. good figure, cute hair etc. but i want to see the face too. the face is pretty important. not that that is a basis for judging people, it isnt. but its still nice to see beautiful people. i dont mean to sound ignorant. did i mention band sucks? there are so many places i would rather be right now. like the box at the rbc. right at midcourt. for a hockey game or something. leather seats and free food. cant beat it. i want to be driving right now. driving where i need to go. before i melt down. id like to at least be there first. i want to fall asleep and wake up there. i might die. ill be a damn failure not to see heaven first. my melancholy baby. there is something really sad to me about the word 'tarbaby'. it could move me to tears if i were to see one in a dream. i know it isnt literal but it still kills me. like the other baby in my dream. dead and bleeding from its sandy toothless mouth. "someone knocked out its teeth" my little ethiopian buddy informs me. he found it on the ground looking like a limp pinkish balloon. when i say something, he tosses it on a pile of rocks. the adults cry hysterically. enough about my dreams. in the better ones... you can imagine. i can always feel death. even driving in my car. the trans-fluid is shot. it could die any minute. im afraid to change it because a shock to the system would kill it. imagine a soldier from wwII. he lost his legs in battle but doesnt know it. lying in his hospital bed he asks you if everything is alright. you tell him he is fine. you know he will die soon regardless but the shock of finding he is a cripple would put him over the edge. so you wait for him to die. thats how it feels. maybe the dead baby was mine. it was good and well until i beat it. i was so converned about its health that i knocked all its sharp teeth out. now it is dead but i wont admit it is. i still hold it and talk to it. i still dream of the future but there is never a future with dead babies. maybe its time to toss it on the ground again and get past the crying.

later, baby