Tribute to Youth

At Week's End

2010-01-27T00:16:00.004-05:00

Girl, I'll soon be leaving
I won't be in town for a while
But out on the road, you know
Oh, you know I'll be dreaming of your smile
True, I'll be lonely
But if you're at home waiting for me
I'll be back in your arms at week's end

It's not as bad as it seems
And it'll soon be alright
There's a place on the other side of slumber where we'll meet
Where I can hold you all night
I'm not glad to be gone
But we won't be alone for very long
I'll be back in your arms at week's end

I could be riding the railroad
Or singing these blues in my sweet home Chicago
I could be sitting in a cheap motel
With nothing but a guitar and a picture to hold
And, yeah, that might do for now
But it don't move me way deep down
I've done nothing but miss you, baby
I hope you know that I speak the truth

I get so weary
Of these miles flying by
But I forget the ground beneath me
When I think of your pretty eyes
I've still got some way to go
Through a couple of towns I don't know
But I'll be back in your arms at week's end

I could be riding the railroad
Or singing these blues in my sweet home Chicago
I could be sitting in a cheap motel
With nothing but a guitar and a picture to hold
And that might do for now
But it don't move me way deep down
I've done nothing but miss you, baby
I hope you know that I speak the truth

I get so weary
Of these miles flying by
But I forget the ground beneath me
When I think of your pretty eyes
I've still got some way to go
Through a couple of towns I don't know
But I'll be back in your arms at week's end

2010-01-25T10:28:00.002-05:00

Under the stars, this moment is ours -
Slipping so far from the real when we feel we are one;
Just look how far we've come.

The look in your eyes says that all of my life has been worth it -
My loneliness is forfeit;
Just look at the love that's begun.

"Elizabeth"

2010-01-13T16:45:00.001-05:00

Gibson signature "Johnny A." electric guitar model [$6,539], stripped of headstock signature and further customized with a more fiery sunburst finish, added floral splash decals and namesake in a bold script.
One day, this baby will make all my other guitars jealous.

Hello blues.

2010-01-07T09:55:00.002-05:00

It's been a month since my last lesson with Jeff, but it would seem I'm doing pretty well teaching myself. I just figured out a nice trick for getting B.B. King's tone, and a beautifully simple method for figuring out his blues licks.
I also have no life, with practically no human interaction; since the end of the fall semester, for the most part it's just been me and my guitars and my music in my room.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

2009-12-31T11:54:00.002-05:00

My sound is getting a lot more bluesy. I've found my perfect tone.
I've been finding a lot more partners lately to take into the studio.
My amp and guitars are spitting out tunes more beautifully than ever.
I'm almost ready to come out of hiding and show everyone what I'm made of.

Just Another Day

2009-12-28T05:33:00.001-05:00

Waiting in a circle for the new year
And it feels like nothing's changed
Seems like just another sleepless night
And the dawn of just another day

Of all the nights I've wished that you could be here
The emptiness tonight is kind of strange
'Cause the fireworks on TV set this room alight
And all the people holding flutes of cheap champagne

Yeah, we're all a little warm
And the drinks have got us all in one mind
But I'm just feeling tired and worn
And this fire is eating at me from the inside

At the stroke of midnight
I'll turn to where you're missing from my side
As the countdown ends, I'll try to flash a smile;
I'll bow my head and kiss my hopes goodbye.

Oh, I'll be saying goodbye again
I'll be saying goodbye again
Goodbye again
Goodbye again

At the stroke of midnight
I'll turn to where you're missing from my side
As the countdown ends, I'll try to flash a smile;
I'll bow my head and kiss my hopes goodbye.

EMILIOVELEZMUSIC.COM -- the designs so far.

2009-12-24T04:25:00.004-05:00

2009-12-21T22:46:00.001-05:00

This is my preliminary design for the home page of the website. Check out a my programmer's test version here.

This Is It.

2009-12-16T23:53:00.000-05:00

Well, this is it -- now that that the fall semester is over, all that's left on my agenda is the release of my website.
It's time to crank up the volume, refine my sound, get together with a few backup musicians, and start booking the EMILIOVELEZMUSIC.COM Site Release Tour!
(note: this will still take a while.)

For those interested in following my tour, I'll be booking New York City venues only (my budget doesn't allow for a tour extending to Chicago yet -- maybe next time, folks!), and I'll be sure to post a list of events when I have one ready.
The goal of the tour is to raise money for the programming fees of my website, EMILIOVELEZMUSIC.COM, and hopefully I can set everything up so that the money adds up properly and my tour ends on the site's release date.
I'll keep you all posted!

--- EV

P.S.: Be ready for a launch party when I start the tour; anyone able would be coming to the first event of the tour, with me, immediately after the party. See you then!

Buckle Up.

2009-12-10T05:34:00.003-05:00

TODAY
The fall semester's last day of classes, and my English final. It shouldn't be much of a problem; my professor said that we can practically bring in a whole first draft for the essay, and she won't count it as cheating as long as it's in outline form.

TOMORROW
Making the last preparations for a talent show being hosted by the QCC Music Society on Saturday. I'll be performing "I Don't Need No Doctor", playing lead guitar, with a band I tossed together (bass, keyboard, and drums), and I have a climax in mind that involves heavy use of my loop pedal; if I'm going to nail it, I need to practice my timing.

SATURDAY
The performance. Sound check starts at noon, and runs until showtime at 2.
Outside of the Music Society's meetings every Wednesday, I haven't had any time to jam with my band (due to scheduling conflicts), but I've given them all copies of the song, and emailed them the chords and such. Hopefully they pull through. We did pretty well at the last meeting.

[next] TUESDAY
French final. I'm mostly covered for this one, but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to use my spare time and over-prepare.

[next] WEDNESDAY
Psychology final. The list of material I have to study for this test is almost two pages long. Oh, joy.

AND THEN....
Freedom.
It's looming on the horizon. Sure, there are a few tough stretches before I get there, but there's not really much I can do but buckle up and barrel through.

In the name of Progress -- whatever that is.

2009-11-24T14:46:00.001-05:00

It's been bothering me lately that my progress on guitar is a stop-and-go kind of thing. When it comes to learning about theory and songwriting, I've grown familiar with the tools and devices my teacher has introduced to me -- I know their names and how they work -- but my growth is still stinted by a weak theoretical ear and an inability to apply what I've learned to practice. I can't listen to a progression and say, "oh, that's E , F#m7add11 , G#m7#5 , G#7, C#m, A,"(a tune I wrote last month); neither can I sit down to write a song and decide to toss in a modal interchange, followed by the root's relative minor. Somehow, I write songs that are theoretically elaborate and properly structured, but it's never on purpose, and I can't rely on accidental ingenuity when I hit writer's block.
This is where I realized that my approach to learning isn't very driven. I'll sit down and practice for several hours on end -- sometimes all through the night -- but I've never really taken much care to listen to what I'm playing, in the theoretical sense. I'm simply playing, producing sounds with no clue as to how they relate to each other. On occasion, I'll discover something that sparks explosive creativity, and I'll churn out song after song for a week or two...but I'm developing a definite sense that there's something hidden under all of this. When I write down the music that results from these surges, the material is always drastically different from what I've written before; I'll break down the songs and discover that they all have a certain theoretical element in common that was absent from my old work.
So here's my revelation and my goal: if I make a conscious effort in my practice to apply what I've been learning -- I call this experimenting with direction -- I can generate the same "eureka!" moments at a much more rapid clip, and if I run into a dead end I can always move on to applying the next lesson.
My music is about to undergo a huge transformation...and the method is so obvious that I feel almost stupid for not realizing it sooner.

emiliovelezmusic.com

2009-11-12T00:04:00.006-05:00

My official website is (officially) in the works!
I gave my initial layout sketches and functional notes to Mr. J, who in turn passed them along to our coding expert Matt Lo. I have an appointment with Matt tomorrow to discuss the finer details and give him a better idea of how I want the semi-user-generated event calendar, news feeds, video and audio clip galleries, etc., to operate -- and hopefully find some ways to make his job easier.
Even considering that I've just been cut an amazing deal and this guy is saving me a lot of money, I am faced with quite a price tag.
But, regardless, it should be no problem. I talked with my good friend and fellow guitarist Richard Ramos yesterday, and in a few days' time we'll be on an errand run to venues across New York, scheduling events that we can play in order to pay for the site.
Also, another way I'm cutting cost is looking for web development tools online, so that I can format a chunk of the website myself, and copy and paste the automatically-generated code to send to Matt, so that he is spared the work of designing and writing it himself.
Here's a sneak peek at some of the web development tools I'm considering for the creation of my site's photo gallery:
http://developer.cooliris.com/?p=embed/quickstart
http://www.simpleviewer.net/simpleviewer/
http://www.simpleviewer.net/tiltviewer/app/

Stay tuned for more updates!

On The Rise

2009-10-29T22:57:00.003-04:00

Tomorrow I'm meeting with my old creative writing teacher, Mr.J, to begin work on my official website.
I'm also meeting with my photographically-inclined friend, Johnny Wolf, for a photo shoot.
Then, in the near future, I have my pick of Mr.J's producer buddies, with whom I can finally record some of my music for the site.
Also, I'm scheduled to perform my music publicly at 3 events before the end of this year.
This all fell into place in the course of a week.
I've recently been stocked full of connections in all worlds that can help me take my music to the next level. This may actually be the start of a career.

So...college.

2009-09-05T11:32:00.002-04:00

I started classes at Queensborough Community College this past week. And I have to say, I think it's amazing. I lucked out and got good professors; I'm taking classes that genuinely interest me; I have long breaks between classes, during which I can relax and play guitar on the Quad (or do work, if need be); and the greater majority of people I've met on campus are mature and intelligent.
It's encouraging to be here. (My only complaint is that the books are back-breakingly expensive.)

A Blues Kind of Mood (A Song In The Night)

2009-07-13T06:44:00.003-04:00

I trust my soul to these strings
And they give it wings;
I trust what's left of my heart
To this sweet guitar
And though she may love me back
It's not quite what we had
And I'm left wond'ring:
Where are you?

'Cause I have these moments in the early morning
When I haven't gotten sleep all night
And I'm losing my will and my way
And I'm sinking and losing my fight with that feeling
Since you've been gone.

One More Song [Firework Over the Freeway]

2009-07-05T03:18:00.001-04:00

Hanging out on those old wooden bleachers
We all sang the farewells to our youth
And the fireworks lifted us up above our blues

We finish a song and raise our bottles
Start another and kick them back again
And that's when I call a toast for all my closest friends:

Here's to infinity
Here's to the life we lead
Here's to these nights I never want to put behind me

As the sun sets on today
And sets our sky aflame
We know that come tomorrow, we will never be the same

But I don't want these carefree days to go away

So we'll put on one more song
'Cause we're 18 and the night's still young
We'll keep this town awake until we're done
Sing it out:

Here's to infinity
Here's to the life we lead
Here's to these nights I never want to put behind me

As the sun sets on today
And sets our sky aflame
We know that come tomorrow, we will never be the same

But I don't want these carefree days to go away

Do you remember that old abandoned pier
Where we used to hang at night?
The sound of water and the distant Midtown lights

We'd swap bittersweet nostalgia
Wondering what might lay ahead
And that's when I'd call the toast for all my closest friends:

Here's to infinity
Here's to the life we lead
Here's to these nights I never want to put behind me

As we look out on the waterway
We feel this moment slip away
And we know that come tomorrow, we may never be the same

No, we can't let the memory fade --

Let's put on one more song
'Cause we're 18 and the night's still young
And we'll keep this tired town awake until that song is sung!

Here's to infinity
Here's to the life we lead
Here's to these nights I never want to put behind me

As we look out on the waterway
And the sun sets on today
We know that come tomorrow, we may never be the same
No, we may never be the same

So let us wish these carefree days won't go away
Let us wish these carefree days won't go away

A Painting Awaiting Completion

2009-06-26T04:57:00.001-04:00

As I write this, I'm on the wooden bench in my backyard, waiting for the sun to rise. Lit citronella candles are all around me; I'm wearing comfortable pajamas and draped in a blanket, sipping from a steaming cup of strong coffee.
This is one of those moments when all the world seems to be put on hold: no worries, no problems -- I'm almost tempted to hum 'Hakuna Matata' -- and life actually takes on a feeling of peace. It's a painting awaiting completion, however; the icing on the cake would be having someone to share it with (remember that weekend?) -- but! -- this is one of those moments where I can smile and whisper to the stillness of dawn, "Life is good," and all is well. And even if it isn't, it will be some time soon.

A few songs that come to mind, that this moment really deserves:

"Come Away With Me" -- Norah Jones
Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song

Come away with me on a bus
Come away with me where they can't tempt us
With their lies

And I want to walk with you
On a cloudy day
In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high
So won't you try to come?

Come away with me and we'll kiss
On a mountaintop
Come away with me
And I'll never stop loving you

And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I'm safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night
Come away with me

"Dogs" -- Damien Rice
She lives with an orange tree
The girl that does yoga
She picks the dead ones from the ground
When we come over

And she gives
I get
Without giving anything to me

Like a morning sun
Like a morning
Like a morning sun
Good good morning sun
The girl that does yoga
When we come over
Girl that does yoga

He lives in a little house
On the side of a little hill
Picks the litter from the ground
Litter little brother spills

He gives
I get
Without giving anything to me

And the dogs they run
And the dogs they
And the dogs they run
In the good good morning sun

Side of a little hill
Litter little brother spills
Side of a little hill

Oh and she's always dressed in white
She's like an angel, man
She burns my eyes
Oh, and she turns
She pulls a smile
We drive her round
And she drives us wild
Oh and she moves like a little girl
I become a child, man
She moves my world
And she gets splashed in rain
And turns away
And leaves me standing

She lives with an orange tree
The girl that does yoga
Got a wolf to keep her warm
When he comes over

She gives
He gets
Without giving anything to see

And the day it ends
And the day it
And the day it ends
And there's no need for me

The girl that does yoga
When we come over
The girl that does yoga

"You Belong To Me" -- Jason Wade
See the pyramids around the Nile
Watch the sunrise from the tropic isle
Just remember darling, all the while
You belong to me

See the marketplace in old Algiers
Send me photographs and souvenirs
Just remember when a dream appears
You belong to me

And I'll be so alone without you
Maybe you'll be lonesome too

Fly the ocean in a silver plane
See the jungle when it's wet with rain
Just remember till you're home again
You belong to me

Oh I'll be so alone without you
Maybe you'll be lonesome too

Fly the ocean in a silver plane
See the jungle when it's wet with rain
Just remember till you're home again
You belong to me

"Something Fine" -- Jackson Browne
The papers lie there helplessly
In a pile outside the door
I've tried and tried, but I just cant remember what they're for
The world outside is tugging like a beggar at my sleeve
Oh, that's much too old a story to believe

And you know that it's taken its share of me
Even though you take such good care of me
Now you say Morocco and that makes me smile
I haven't seen Morocco in a long, long while
The dreams are rolling down across the places in my mind
And I've just had a taste of something fine

The future hides and the past just slides
England lies between
Floating in a silver mist so cold and so clean
California's shaking like an angry child will
Who has asked for love and is unanswered still

And you know that I'm looking back carefully
'Cause I know that there's still something there for me
But you said Morocco and you made me smile
And it hasn't been that easy for a long, long while
And looking back into your eyes I saw them really shine
Giving me a taste of something fine
Something fine

Now if you see Morocco I know you'll go in style
I may not see Morocco for a little while
But while you're there I was hoping you might keep it in your mind
To save me just a taste of something fine.

P.S.: I hope you find moments like this. I really do. And I hope you'll realize how precious they are. I hope you'll enjoy them like I have, and I hope you know what it would mean to me that you are happy.

2009-06-18T03:03:00.002-04:00

I don't know what to say about all of this.
February already seems like it was ages ago -- in terms of school, at least. I graduated last Thursday, and visited Whitestone Academy yesterday to hang out with my Creative Writing teacher for a bit (he awarded me at graduation for being at the top of my class, by the way), and when I saw a couple of my fellow graduates at the school, I felt as if I'd known them my whole life. But I've really only known them since February. And I only started really talking to a lot of them at prom.
It's just that these people are all I really have to remember high school by. These past four years are over. And it's just starting to sink in.
I don't like it. I should have had better times while I was still in high school.

PROM '09!!! (a week late with the pictures -- oh, well.)

2009-05-29T03:19:00.004-04:00

Awesome. Freakin'. Night.
Sadly, I didn't have my own camera on me, so I can't provide full photographic coverage, but these are the pictures I've gotten from other people -- and there are a couple more on the way, so hang tight.

Welcome to the Waldorf=Astoria -- where chandeliers and other shiny motifs of high class abound!

Chilling at my post (at which I could easily avoid the dance floor) with occasional company.

With Mr. J's arrival, the party finally began to live up to its name...and I decided, at last, to join in (See? There I am -- in the background, with Dance Partner #1! Let's zoom in...).

My expression = *grumble* "I haven't even started to dance yet, why are you taking pictures?" *grumble*
I learned early, after several awkward moments, that the dance floor could not be avoided forever. (However, I owe the girl in this picture for getting me out there in the first place.)

On the floor with Dance Partner #2!

On the floor with Dance Partner #2 -- as well as Dance Partners #3 and #4, who swept in from across the room.
(I must a better dancer than I once thought.)

Ladies and gentlemen, the Graduation Cake has reached the dance floor!

CLASS OF '09!!!

I got called into the stretch Hummer for a nostalgic ride home in good company.

Don't grow up too fast
And don't embrace the past
This life's too good to last
And I'm too young to care...
-- from "Blackout" by Muse

This was a night I'll never forget.

Miss Communication

2009-05-14T01:40:00.004-04:00

It would seem you've been
Reading my words to mean
Things that I never intended to say

(And now I see) When they came across
All that they meant was lost
And all that I wanted was bent out of shape

(All I wanted was) To know I had turned out alright in the end
Not to take steps back or to go there again
(But just) To know if maybe now I'm worth more
Than the fool I was then
And if I even deserve a friend --
I just hope that this miscommunication's at an end

The old is leading me into the new.

2009-05-12T22:17:00.000-04:00

We are a beautiful letdown.

2009-04-30T17:35:00.006-04:00

Well...it would seem I'm on my own again. Kit bowed out.
It was the kind of breakup that sneaks up on you: brief, quiet, without incident -- the kind of breakup that stings all the worse for its sudden silence, but demands that you hide the pain away and soldier on.
I really don't want to let something like this just end. It means too much to me; I want to fight tooth and nail to hold onto that happiness, that sense of belonging. And yet, I simply don't have the option. All I can do is move forward. Ignore her absence. Take the pain and suppress it.
All I can do is pick up where I left off on February 2nd...without her.

"Dreaming With A Broken Heart" by John Mayer:
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll out of bed and down onto your knees
And for a moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering, "Was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?"
No, she's not --
'Cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone...

When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
She takes you in with her crying eyes
Then all at once, you have to say goodbye
Wondering, "Could you stay, my love?
Will you wake up by my side?"
No, she can't --
'Cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone...

Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
...And would you get them, if I did?
No, you won't --
'Cause you're gone, gone, gone, gone, gone...

When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part...

I realize, already, that I can't change the state of things -- and that, even if I could, I'd rather avoid making matters worse by forcing anything.
So, the present has its shortcomings, and that's fine, because I won't let it stop me from facing tomorrow. I've got books to write; tunes to play; songs to sing; and a world full of challenges, just waiting for me -- I plan to hit it at full throttle. So what if I'm flying solo?

"The Beautiful Letdown" by Switchfoot:
It was a beautiful letdown
When I crashed and burned
When I found myself alone
Unknown and hurt
It was a beautiful letdown
The day I knew
That all the riches this world had to offer me
Would never do

In a world full of bitter pain
And bitter doubts
I was trying so hard to fit in, fit in
Until I found out:

I don't belong here (I don't belong)
I don't belong here (I don't belong)
I will carry a cross with a song
Where I don't belong
I don't belong

It was a beautiful letdown
When you found me here
Yeah, for once in a rare blue moon
I see everything clear
I'll be a beautiful letdown
That's what I'll forever be
And though it may cost my soul
I'll sing for free

We're still chasing our tails
In the rising sun
And our dark water planet's still spinning in a race
Where no one wins, and no one's won.

I don't belong here (I don't belong)
I don't belong here (I don't belong)
I will carry a cross with a song
Where I don't belong (I don't belong)

I don't belong here (I don't belong)
I don't belong here (I don't belong)
I'm going to set sight
And set sail for the kingdom come.
Your kingdom come.
Won't you let me down!
Let my foolish pride forever let me down.

Easy living, you're not much like the name
Easy dying, you look just about the same
Would you please take me off your list?
Easy living, please come on and let me down.

We are a beautiful letdown
Painfully uncool
The church of the drop-outs, the losers,
The sinners, the failures, and the fools.
What a beautiful letdown
Are we salt in the wound?
Let us sing one true tune:

I don't belong here (I don't belong) x 6
I don't belong

Won't you let me down?
Come on and let me down.
You always let me down.
So glad that I'm let down.
Come on and let me down,
'Cause I don't belong here.
Please, won't you let me down?

Bayside's Still Got It!

2009-04-26T12:34:00.003-04:00

Since, during my time with the Bayside High School chess team, we did so well at the Project Chess: City Council Cup, Chess in the Schools decided to have their next tournament take place in Bayside.
Thus, the Tony Avella Chess Tournament: date, 4.25.'09.
So my old team competed in their second tournament yesterday.
I'm sorry -- "we" competed in "our" second tournament.
Because Whitestone Academy is affiliated with Bayside High, I'm allowed to participate in all meetings and tournaments and such with my team, and I get to stay captain. What a relief!
So we got to work, and swept the floor, grabbing first place as a team (on a personal note, I matched my previous win-loss record of 3-1)-- now that's two tournaments, two trophies in the case for Bayside!
Look for my team in the next edition of The Bayside Times here.

Reunion.

2009-04-14T21:37:00.002-04:00

As you may remember, my beloved Gloria took a fall in the beginning of January...and broke her neck. (I may not have disclosed that little detail before, but here it is.) I thought her irreparable -- but sent her away to a luthier regardless -- and have since made do with an acoustic guitar too small for me, which I can't play on extensively.
It's been an excruciating two-and-a-half months. Sure, I've had my bass, Fenix, to keep me company, but without Gloria...I was an artist without an outlet. A musician without a muse.
And then, two days ago, I was given the best news I could have imagined...
Today I was reunited with Gloria...
And I'm whole again. There are no words.

Metamorphosis.

2009-04-11T06:00:00.002-04:00

Life has changed a lot for me since the beginning of February -- a lot has happened, a lot of people have come and gone. This fact is just catching up to me now, at six in the morning, having had the past two hours awake to think about it...
1) I finally returned to good terms with Liz -- which wiped clean a year's worth of self-loathing-influenced perspectives;
2) I transferred to Whitestone Academy -- and now, after almost four years of being trapped in the unstimulating Bayside High, I'm acing all of my classes and set for a June diploma, as well as reunited with my old friends Josh and Melissa;
3) I met Kit -- who, from day one, flipped my world on its head, and who is teaching me how good life can be;
4) I turned 18 -- and after years of depending on everyone around me, I'm suddenly shifting into a different mindset and am finally taking a little initiative (for one, I opened a checking account with Chase, and am waiting for a debit card in the mail: job applications come next).

(There are a lot more changes to list, but those will come at a later date.)

On a different note: I went to Graham's last night with Kit, and yet again -- I don't think I wrote about the last instance of this, but my description now should suffice -- a party built up while we were there. People arrived; music got louder; atmosphere got lighter; jokes and stories were exchanged. I had a few of my typical moments, in a good way, and I have now accepted "Sweetness" (by Jimmy Eat World) as my anthem. A playlist I've assembled since then, titled in keeping with a joke I share with my brother, follows:

"Sweetness" - Jimmy Eat World
"We Will Become Silhouettes" - The Shins
"Letters" - Stroke 9
"Best of Me" - The Starting Line
"Straw Dog" - Something Corporate
"As You Sleep" - Something Corporate
"Full Moon" - The Black Ghosts
"Living In Chaos" - The Offspring
"So Far Away" - Staind
"...Slowdance on the Inside" - Taking Back Sunday
"I Woke Up in a Car" - Something Corporate
"The Last Song" - All-American Rejects
"Save Yourself" - Rise Against
"Time" - Hootie & the Blowfish
"Where Is My Mind?" - Pixies
"I Want To Save You" - Something Corporate
"The World You Love" - Jimmy Eat World
"23" - Jimmy Eat World
"All Star" - Smash Mouth
"Mr. Jones" - Counting Crows
"Knights of the Island Counter" - Dave Melilo
"Slow Down" - The Academy Is...
"It's For The Best" - Straylight Run
"The Boys of Summer" - The Ataris
"Starlight" - Muse
"Existentialism on Prom Night" - Straylight Run
"Move Along" - All-American Rejects
"Real World" - Matchbox Twenty
"Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy" - Fall Out Boy
"Heaven" - Los Lonely Boys
"Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes" - Fall Out Boy
"Konstantine" - Something Corporate
"Back To You" - John Mayer
"Swing Life Away" - Rise Against
"Into The Night (feat. Chad Kroeger)" - Santana
"Night Drive" - Jimmy Eat World
"Sweetness" - Jimmy Eat World

How has your life been changed recently?

Good Company.

2009-04-05T20:56:00.002-04:00

I have to say, I spent the past 30 or so hours in very good company. Last night was a movie, dinner at Applebees, and a night over at Geanine's, with Kit and Grant and Leo and Megan and Juliana and Danny -- celebrating four birthdays at once. We went into the wrong theater to watch "I Love You Man," instead getting stuck with "The Fast and the Furious 4"; had a minor drag down Francis Lewis with our two-car party; Kit violated Grant with numerous stuffed animals. All business as usual with Geanine & Co.
And now we wait for Kit's mother to pick her up from my house, and I find myself wasting time and falling into missing her already.
I'll post up pictures at a later time.

Transfer. (GET ME OUT OF THIS SYSTEM ALREADY!)

2009-02-04T17:20:00.001-05:00

I'm chronicling my misadventures in Whitestone Academy: let's begin with Days One and Three (Day Two offered no time to take pictures)...

This is Josh Ross, old friend from sophomore year at Bayside.
We are in 3rd period Marine Biology, where the principal swings in to give us three questions, and leaves for the rest of the period. Josh had working duty on the 2nd (Day One).
This is Melissa Reres, sister of non-relation from sophomore year.
We are in 3rd period Marine Biology (but you know about that by now).
She thought she had DJ duty on the 2nd, but she had not yet seen my skills with the Mighty Playlist.
This is Kit.
We are in 3rd period Marine Biology.
She's hiding from the flash of my camera, and demands that I delete this photo.
This is me and Kit in 3pMB on Day Three, after her eyes have adjusted to my camera's flash. She makes sure I never want to skip class.

Josh had work duty again on Day Three, poor soul.

This girl is the death of me.
I swear.

Yes, Really.

2009-02-01T17:20:00.003-05:00

I spent my day getting reacquainted with myself. It's been a long, long time...
Raise your hand if you've heard "Carry This Picture" by Dashboard Confessional.
How about "Pressing On" by Reliant K?

Well, here's a dose of each. Enjoy!

Carry this picture for luck
Kept in a locket
Tucked in your collar
Close to your chest
Make it a secret
Shown to the closest friends

Meet me at quarter-to-seven
The sun will still shine then
At this time of year
We'll head to the inlet
And we'll share a bottle there

And color the coast with your smile --
It's the most genuine thing
I've ever seen.
I was so lost,
But now I believe.

I think we're going somewhere.
We're onto something good here.
Out of mind, out of state --
Trying to keep my head on straight.

I think we're going somewhere.
We're onto something good here.
There's only one thing left to do:
Drop all I have and go with you.

Somewhere back there, I left my worries all behind.
My problems fell out of the back of my mind.
We're going and I'm never knowing where we're going.
To go back to where I was would just be wrong --
I'm pressing on.

"That Girl."

2009-01-31T12:06:00.002-05:00

Yes, that one --
The one that's had me saying "I'm fine" for the past year, when I really wasn't;
The one that had me choosing my guitar over the company of my friends, writing songs;
The one that had me visiting old places, just for the sake of trying to remember what my subconscious locked away from me;
The one who left that most permanent sort of mark.
The one who had me flying and falling and hitting my head on the ceiling.

Yeah. That one. You all know I haven't hit my head on the ceiling for anyone else.

January 29th brought me back around. She told me to hit the send button, and I did, and I was finally proven wrong about everything I've held in my core for so many months.
And it feels great. It really does.
I don't mind being alone anymore. If I get to believe in something different...it's actually alright.
Thank you. Again. I really can't say it enough.

Two Years Ago, Today...

2009-01-29T14:01:00.005-05:00

I made one of the best decisions of my life, which led to my greatest downfall.
Not a day goes by anymore where someone doesn't remind me of that past, where I'm not put on my furious edge, where Liz's name isn't spoken...I swear, I could put holes in the next person who mentions her this January 29th.
That was then...

...and this is now.

Learn to understand that, people. I PREFER to be left alone about this. It's how I'm meant to be.

Gloria

2009-01-26T10:14:00.000-05:00

My sweet Gloria
You saw me growing up
And everyone saw
You were growing on me

We both watched Elizabeth leave
Said goodbye to Michelle and Silvia and Geanine
And you held me all the way through
You were singing my blues

My fingers bled dry
I'd play any guitar just as hard as I had cried
The first night she was gone
But nothing felt right
Unless it was you in my arms

Since that day when I carried you
In through my door
You carried me through more
Than I could ever say
Now I can only say:

My sweet Gloria
I'm not done with this growing up
And I don't think I ever will be
Since you left me a guitarist without a heart

Now that our days are done
And all of your songs have been sung
I pray that you'll remember each kiss;
I'll remember for ages to come...

"Not So Secret" by...me

2009-01-04T20:28:00.003-05:00

With a smile you could will this room to silence
You should will this room to silence
So we all can soak your eyes in
As you tell us to confide in
You would never say a thing, no
You would never judge
Not one among us
Strangers all, but...

"Tell me a secret"
You can see that
I'm a man of many masks
The last one you'd expect to ask
And get the answer that you'd like
To know, who am I really?
Underneath all of these subtle clues
It's up to you to find
My troubled truths
The puzzle's not that hard to solve --
It's not so secret after all
It's not so secret after all

If I could leave everyone behind
And have just you and I
You know I'd take the chance
And take the slowest dance
You know I'd
Let you get to know me
As no one knows me
Past the masks and empty shows
If I could wake up to your glow
I'd take you anywhere
You know I want to save you
I want to take you
Far away from all this pain
Somewhere good things stay the same
It's not so secret after all

"Tell me a secret"
You can see that
I'm a man of many masks
The last one you'd expect to ask
And get the answer that you'd like
To know, who am I really?
Underneath all of these subtle clues
It's up to you to find
My troubled truths
The puzzle's not that hard to solve
And that I wish for something more is not that hard to call
It looks like it's not so secret after all
It's not so secret after all

It's for the best.

2009-01-03T06:04:00.004-05:00

I'm feeling strange right now.
I don't know what to call this state of mind, or this outlook, or whatever you want to call it; I don't know whether to consider it good or bad, or whether it should even be considered at all.
One second I'm looking forward and feeling optimistic; the next I'm looking back and feeling hopeless; the second after that, I'm looking at the here and now and honestly, it leaves me not feeling at all.
Is apathy better than pain?
But then again, I wouldn't call this apathy, because there's the optimism, and because I'm feeling pretty good when I think about my fresh start with Geanine (which is so fresh that we're cracking first-meeting jokes and saying "good night, stranger.", and it's all laughs and smiles again). I only hope that this time, I can hold on to the positive for a change.
God damn, I know it's only 5 a.m. here in Chicago, but I'm already thinking about how I return to New York tomorrow, and I really don't want to leave my bro's place. I really don't want to leave this place that feels so much more like home to me.

"It's For The Best" by Straylight Run:
It takes more time than I've ever had;
Drains the life from me,
Makes me want to forget.
As young as I was
I felt older back then:
More disciplined,
Stronger and certain.
But I was scared to death of eternity --
I was saved by grace,
But destroyed by naivety...
And I lied to myself
And said it was for the best.

And now faith is replaced with a logic so cold --
I've disregarded what I was
Now that I'm older.
And I know much more than I did back then,
But the more I learn
The more I can't understand.
And I've become content with this life that I lead,
Where I drink too much and don't believe in much of anything
And I lie to myself
And say it's for the best.

We're moving forward
But holding ourselves back
And we're waiting on something that will never come...

We're moving forward
But holding ourselves back
And we're waiting on something that will never come...

We're moving forward
But holding ourselves back
And we're waiting on something that will never come...

We're moving forward
But holding ourselves back
And we're waiting on something that will never come...

We're moving forward
But holding ourselves back
And we're waiting on something that will never come...

We're moving forward
But holding ourselves back
And we're waiting on something that will never come...


And we're waiting on something that will never come.

The New Year

2009-01-01T11:36:00.002-05:00

So this is the new year
And I don't feel any different...

I wish the world was flat like the old days
Then I could travel just by folding the map
No more airplanes, or speedtrains, or freeways
There'd be no distance that could hold us back

There'd be no distance that could hold us back...

So this is the new year...

One fresh start down; three more to go. (Yes, I had in mind particular people to start over with -- you guessed right. But Liz isn't one of them, so no congratulatory cookie for you. You think I'm that pathetic?) I spent last night at my dad's place (!), playing guitar and mingling and talking and mixing & matching coquito and champagne and chambord.
And I made a resolution that I doubt I can pull off in a year. It has nothing to do with my books. It has nothing to do with romance. It has nothing to do with music. It has nothing to do with habits that I want to kick or start. It's simply another story for another time.

I've been listening to Clair de Lune a lot lately. Don't ask me why, I don't really know. It's just...beautiful. It gets a new sort of train of thought going in my head that no other music can put there. I'm enjoying it. It makes me feel incredibly lonely, and I'm not enjoying that, but as far as aesthetics go I could not be happier.

"Fresh Start"

2008-12-27T09:07:00.002-05:00

is what Geanine calls it.
I really can't wait for 2009. A chance to begin again, anywhere, with anyone, doing anything. New friendships and relationships, and old ones approached in a new way.
Sure, there are feelings and memories that will still be there, but that all will have been from last year -- or the years before that. They're best left out of the equation now.
It's an interesting concept. Though I've kind of lost a little faith in it since she told me yesterday, for certain reasons (not involving my last entry).
I guess I should at least try it.

Send.

2008-12-25T09:26:00.005-05:00

I didn't sleep last night. I couldn't.
I sat until 3 a.m. in front of my computer, paralyzed. My finger was poised over the mouse for hours; on the screen, the cursor hovered on the "Send" button of a fully-typed message, and next to that, a picture of Liz smiled at me.
I was so tempted to send that message, to tell her all that had happened in the past eight months and all that I had felt, to let her know that after all this time I simply wished her happiness and hoped that she would have a merry Christmas.
But I would look at that picture again and my mind would start racing. She's moved on; she's with Ed now; she's happy. She doesn't need an abrupt reminder like this, of how her last relationship went bad. Images and memories were playing behind my eyelids whenever I blinked. Among these was the familiar shadow of February twelfth: a ghost that has visited me far too often -- me, leaning against a bookcase in Barnes & Noble, hanging my head, fighting my own choking sobs until my lungs hurt; her hand on my arm, her eyes trying to bring mine up from the floor; those words...
"I'm not saying it's completely over. We could be together, but...not right now. Neither of us can do this right now."
I let out a bitter chuckle.
"What?"
"It's just that...in every story I've heard --"
"They don’t get back together?"
"Yeah."
The pause. "We're not every story."

I was just so tired of being the same old story. I was tired of knowing that we hadn't even managed a simple friendship after she left. I was tired of looking back and finding only bitterness and resentment after that, too, fell apart. I just wanted so badly to click "Send" and have that message shatter it all -- one last peaceful letter, a hello and a goodbye to take the place of normal, post-breakup coldness and distance.
But I looked at that picture. I heard her voice, her laugh, for the first time since reality sank in, eight months ago; I saw her familiar gestures and expressions.
And at three o'clock in the morning, I decided that she was best left alone. I realized that the only way for me to really move on was to move on, and stop agonizing over that fucking "Send" button. I moved the cursor and closed the window. My last feeling was of something in me shrinking away and sputtering out like a candle.
This loneliness is getting to me.

Montmartre.

2008-12-13T12:38:00.002-05:00

The more I read about that place, the more pictures I see of it, the more research I do into the people and the flavor and the locale, the more I feel like I belong there.
Haven't heard o fit? It's in the Paris, the 18e arrondissement (on the northern edge).
I think I'll craft a story set there. Sure, a lot more thorough research is required, and I'll have to interview my cousin -- who will be in Paris in a matter of days -- to get a better idea of what it's like, but it should be worth it. Thinking back to Rey and Stawiarz, maybe photography should be a motif (implying memory? maybe the POV character has amnesia? interesting conflict there...). I think I'll start now.

Catch twenty-two: I couldn't get a job because I didn't have experience (that I remember), and I couldn't get experience because I didn't have a job. The most I could hope for was a few euros here, a few there, submitting my photography to low-key papers and magazines -- no major event coverage; just spontaneous compositions. As far as these went, the Tour Eiffel and other tourist magnets had long ago become dead subjects, and photographing muggings and car accidents made me feel somehow guilty.
The way I saw it, people-watching was my last -- and easiest -- option. Any cafe in Paris was an outpost.
Late morning on a windy October day, I sat outside A La Mère Catherine with coffee and my camera. At another table a woman with deep, clear eyes was hunting in her pockets for matches; a cigarette hung from her lip. Rue du Mont-Cenis was behind her, and cars chugged hurriedly by. The day was overcast, and the glow provided by the sun was half-assed, at best -- my lighting of choice. But it was a tough situation, as I was waiting for multiple factors to come into play: a leaf the color of fire was straining to depart its branch in the wind; the woman would undoubtedly face the sun as she lit her cigarette; and several cars were turning the corner down the road.
Wait for it...wait for it...
The woman lit her cigarette, and with that first puff looked up at a building across the street -- the sun danced in her eyes, brought a soft light to her slim hands and cheeks. The leaf dropped and drifted into the frame, and the cars slipped through the background. All of this was captured on long exposure: the smoke, the leaf and the cars were all blended together, with the girl and her eyes and her pensive expression at the clear center.
Beautiful. I sipped at my steaming cup, unwrapped the square of dark chocolate accompanying the café noir on its dish. Just beautiful.
Cath purred and rubbed against my leg; I looked down at her, and she looked up at me. I read my cat's body language: "Can we go now?"
With a smile, I stroked her back and stood. A wave to the waitress -- who was inside -- and a five-euro bill later, I was on my way home.

Around that time, since before I could remember, I was living with Cath in that tiny shack on the edge of Montmartre. Its door creaked when I walked in; because of a peculiar slant in the street, common in my neighborhood, it slammed shut behind me.
I had always worried about that door breaking itself.
I tugged the pull string and a bulb above me cast the room into light: my cot was laid on wooden planks laid on the stone floor, with a large chest nearby for clothes and another chest beside for other things. Two bowls -- one for solids, one for liquids -- were at my bedside for Cath; a rolled-shut paper bag of dry cat food and a bottle of mineral water rested nearby. I quickly prepared a meal for her. As she ate and drank, I watched. She had grown in the past two years.
The past two years...
My thoughts strayed to the contents of my non-clothing chest, as they usually did. Eight and a half years' worth of memories, in the form of Moleskine journals and keepsakes and photographs and a bottle and a dead rose.
There had been a girl. Her name was Summer. We started dating in my third year of high school. Our fifth anniversary was celebrated with a small bottle of champagne -- among other things I couldn't find. I wouldn't have known any of this without having kept those journals, or collecting those keepsakes; she had left me two years before, on my twenty-third birthday, when I emerged from my coma without a single memory.

Keep in mind; this is towards a first draft. It's supposed to suck. Ask any author who knows anything about writing fiction: they'll tell you the same. To quote Hemingway: "The first draft of anything is shit."
On a slightly unrelated note, I'm applying today for a job at Barnes & Noble. Wish me luck!

Globes and Maps.

2008-12-07T21:06:00.003-05:00

Ever heard of Xavier Rey? Or Marcin Stawiarz?...I've been looking at a lot of their work lately. It's been making me think.
I feel caged, surrounded by these walls; the majority of the time, my mind is cast off elsewhere -- usually to Europe (Prague and Spain and Paris and places of that sort). I feel like if I were just able to travel, really travel, and see what I want to see, then I would be able to write and photograph and think to my full potential...but until such a day comes when I can hop on that plane and not look back, I can't help but wonder if I'll just go through life without any sort of meaning. I don't have the funds for such a trip, or the equipment or the massive stock of empty journals.
I guess, as a writer, the only thing I can do until then is let my characters have the adventures for me.

The End.

2008-12-07T15:11:00.003-05:00

Now, come one, come all, to this tragic affair;
Wipe off that make-up -- what sin is despair?
So throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot;
You might wake up and notice you're someone you're not...

Autumn rain. A tree the color of fire drops its embers, leaves them to drift in puddles on the pavement. Sun meets cloud cover and quits, allowing the cemetery only a half-assed, diffused glow.
Amidst the season's conflagration, a snake appears: the Hearse and its tentative following. Car doors open to an outpour -- black suits; black dresses; black umbrellas; black expressions...a casket, blackest of all.
Of the mourners, some have been drinking -- their whispers fill the fall with whiskey -- and some have been smoking. They are all ghosts, suspended in an altered state of sobriety.
Here, the grinding of a flint, and a flame, and life is breathed into a cigarette; there, plastic buds begin to play for an old lover, and all other sound is drowned away.
So many faces, each facing their own music. No one is liking the notes that they hear.

Yesterday was cool (100th POST! AWESOME!).

2008-11-27T13:16:00.003-05:00

I met up with Mary...then Danny...then we went to Geanine's and hung out there for a bit. Mary had to leave after a while; then Danny and Geanine and I met a friend of Geanine's on the bus to College Point.
[Side note: I don't get the whole deal about "two's company, three's a crowd"; as long as they're all cool people(not the popular modern definition of "cool") , I've been fine with anything up to seven or eight.]
Once in College Point, our party's new addition had us all in stitches -- I won't go into explanation, suffice it to say that it was pretty funny. We spent way too much time sitting outside doing nothing in particular; then we all went back to Danny's.
We played WiiFit and WiiSports. We ate sour-cream-and-onion chips and marshmallows and chicken soup. We laughed; we talked some talk; I learned to put certain feelings on the back burner for the sake of comfortable chillage. It went pretty well. Then at 11, mi madre came and picked up everyone but Danny for the drive home(Geanine's mother gets this job way too often; I decided to give her a break). Now I'm looking forward to the possibility of a party next weekend.
Excuse my choppy sentences and other quirks of style today. I'm kind of tired. I stayed up way too late getting more work done on my manuscript. That aside, have a happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I should go now; I have to prepare for tonight's contest(who can get more stuffed: me or the turkey?).

So II0II it's not even funny.

2008-11-22T01:16:00.005-05:00

Geanine is amazing. I will say this straight out. Now, let me explain...
I don't think I've mentioned it here yet -- maybe in passing -- but I was going out with her for a while at the beginning of this month. We put it on hold, due to some emotional and environmental stress on her end that she has to address before our relationship as anything more than friends can pick up again (thankfully, this all transpired on good terms).
Anyway, Geanine was having a rough time last Friday, and this didn't have her in the most upbeat of moods. Nobody, it seemed, had been sparing her many kind words, and she was buying into all those negative views of herself that were being suggested; to be quite honest, it pissed me off to know that people could tell her she wasn't "good enough," and that she would believe it. So I grabbed the copy of Something Corporate's CD Leaving Through the Window I had been meaning to give her for about a week, grabbed my bike, and hauled ass to her house.
It was almost funny when I pulled up out front and felt my phone buzzing in my pocket: she had sent me a text while I had been on my way, telling me that her mom was feeling under the weather and that she would probably vent this unpleasantness by not letting Geanine see me for a few minutes.
So I called Geanine, hoping that she was wrong.
She was right.
So I did the only thing I really could do: I left the CD in a relatively concealed spot on her front steps, sent her a text to let her know, and rode my bike back home.

Leaving Through the Window has always held something for me. It's some of the first music I ever owned; my brother gave it to me. I can listen to those songs no matter what mood I'm in, and whenever I'm in a tight spot, they've always helped me out. Any partiality in genre or artist for me is fleeting, but SoCo has always been there, always been the fallback. I figured, what with Geanine not being in the best of places, Leaving Through the Window would help...and I guess I figured right. By the end of that night, even if I didn't have her in a completely different mood, I had at least put a smile on her face, and that was good enough for me.
But the real moment came last night.
Danny's Boy Scouts troop had just had a Bingo Night fundraiser; I had gone, and Geanine and her mom and her dad and her brother had, too; Danny and Peter and Tamis and Chris had been there on duty (yes, I hang out with a bunch of Boy Scouts). About halfway through the event, Danny came by with one of those styrofoam cups of coffee; he let me finish it. This whole time I was listening to Something Corporate on my iPod and sitting next to Geanine and kind of regretting not being as close as we have been. I guess the music eventually got to me; between two particular rounds of Bingo, I used the pencil I had been given (to fill out my sheets) to etch into the styrofoam cup: "Some things never do change/Never do change...", a lyric from "Cavanaugh Park". I sat back and skipped out on the next round of games (and the next), etching more and more Something Corporate lyrics as my iPod provided the songs on shuffle. By the end of the night, I had covered that styrofoam in music. The one part that I think really stood out was in the middle of the cup: "I want to save you/ I want to save you/ But I need you/ To save me too..." (Writing this elicited a little bit of a good feeling, and a little bit of longing for more good feeling: upon first hearing the song, Geanine had declared that she was officially stealing it -- I pleaded, "Can we at least split it?" She agreed, and what do you know, in the settling dust of our flash-fire stint as a couple, we had just discovered our song.) At eleven p.m., Danny's troop called closing time. I hurriedly grabbed my latest Bingo ticket as a souvenir, stuffed it into the styrofoam cup, and everyone headed home. Me, Danny, Geanine and Geanine's mom and dad and brother were all packed into this little car, and for the sake of comfort I had my arm around Geanine, and she had her head on my shoulder. During the somewhat-claustrophobic drive, she asked her mom to turn on the car's CD player and hit track 1.
Next thing I knew, we were singing "I Want to Save You" in slightly off-beat harmony, because the volume was pretty low and we couldn't hear it all that well, but that didn't matter to us right then. We were just in the moment. Just singing. Just enjoying the comfort of each other's warmth on such a goddamn freezing night. Once the song was finished, I laughed, because I knew that if my brother could have seen me right then, he would have known what it meant to me, and he would have known how much I would have thanked him.
And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.

Dim

2008-11-21T01:42:00.002-05:00

He's shaking a shiver
Out of his limbs.
He wants to save her;
She wants to save him --
But that dream's seeming dim,
'Cause she won't dare to let him in...

He hardly knows her,
But she knows him well.
He wants to feel closer;
He just wants to tell her
"I've been through this hell --
It'll sink you until you sell out..."

And he just wants to see her smile;
He just wants her to see for a while
She shouldn't give in to fears
And buy all that she hears,
'Cause she's better than she'll ever know
Than she'll ever know...

Cool Photography Project

2008-11-15T19:30:00.001-05:00

Coming up. Let's just say I gotta wait for my suit jacket to arrive from Chicago before I can get started. Good stuff.

In Your Atmosphere (John Mayer, from "Where the Light Is")

2008-11-14T21:46:00.003-05:00

I don't think I'm gonna go to LA anymore
I don't think I'm gonna go to LA anymore
I don't know what it's like to land, and
Not race to your door
I don't think I'm gonna go to LA anymore

I don't think I'm gonna go to LA anymore
I'm not sure that I really ever could
Hold on to your hotel key in your
Bedroom neighborhood
We sleep walk in Hollywood

I'm gonna steer clear
Burn up in your atmosphere
I'm gonna steer clear
'Cause I'd die if I saw you
I'd die if I didn't see you there
So I don't think I'm gonna go to LA anymore

I don't think I'm gonna go to LA anymore
I get lost on the boulevard at night
Without your voice to tell me I love you, take a right
Dinner for two is a lonely sight

I'm gonna steer clear
Burn up in your atmosphere
I'm gonna steer clear
'Cause I'd die if I saw you
I'd die if I didn't see you

I'm gonna steer clear
Burn up in your atmosphere
I'm gonna steer clear
'Cause I'd die if I saw you
I'd die if I didn't see you there
See you there

I think I'm gonna stay, gonna stay in the gray
I think I'm gonna stay, gonna stay, gonna stay
And all the streetlights say never mind, never mind
And the canyon lines say never mind, never mind
And sunset says, we see this all the time
Never mind, never you mind

Wherever I go
Whatever I do
I wonder where I am
In my relationship to you

Wherever you go
Wherever you are
I watch your life play out
In pictures from afar

Wherever I go
Whatever I do
I wonder where I am
In my relationship to you

Wherever you go
Wherever you are
I watch that pretty life play out
In pictures from afar

Withdrawal

2008-11-14T19:51:00.000-05:00

Hey there. I've been told never to start anything off with an apology, but really, I think this instance calls for it. I was having a funk of a day(not the good kind of funk) the other day, when Danny told me that I had to eventually recognize when people needed breathing space, and that it would be a good idea to give them some now. So when I heard this, after a troubling day, I overreacted, as I am known to do. I lashed out, pretty much at everyone around me, and swore to withdraw from social activities until "Monday-ish" (as I called it when talking to Geanine). For this, I want to apologize. I'm extremely sorry for not handling things with the care and sensitivity that they called for.
But I've spent the past few days in a sort of cocoon, and undergone a slight metamorphosis. I read "The Little Prince"(yes, the children's book; but it is conceptually genius, and I recommend it to anyone who can find an hour of freedom to read it). I listened to old Something Corporate songs(this has always helped me in tough spots). I bought a copy of "Chinese Takeout" by Arthur Nersesian, since I lost my old one, and highlighted all my favorite lines, and listened to the soundtrack I assembled for it last year. I played guitar. I slept and ate and drank coffee.
More importantly: I thought. Hard. And I realized a few things, and I'm feeling more comfortable with my situation now. So again, I wanted to apologize to you folks for how much of a jerk or a pain in the ass I may have seemed this past week. I'm not quite together, but I'm getting there. I just hope that you'll bear with me.

A Hat Called Infinity

2008-11-11T16:30:00.002-05:00

My brother gave it to me for a reason.

To the Classics

2008-11-09T09:47:00.001-05:00

Facebook Status-Emilio Vélez says: "It's still rock and roll to me."

Geni Leone at 9:37am November 9 via Facebook Mobile

Word. But I wonder what these young snipper wappers are callin it? Lolz

Emilio Vélez at 9:38am November 9

hot funk, cool punk, maybe even old junk -- still rock and roll to me. :D

Geni Leone at 9:39am November 9 via Facebook Mobile

Lmfao =P

I Didn't Understand

2008-11-08T13:13:00.002-05:00

I didn't really know her. I guess that's what did this. I didn't understand.
My brother always tells me the truth at times like this, when everyone else would just tell me what I want to hear. It's good to know. Kind of hard to take, but necessary.
The thing is, I do what I do to fill the void left by my parents. I mean, your parents' marriage is your first impression of what a relationship should be, and since I grew up around a lot of conflict and distance, I try desperately to prove to myself that it isn't always like that. Every new girl I get involved with seems to have had trouble with guys who were nothing but assholes; like my brother, I have a bit of a "superhero complex"(as he put it), and so I feel the need to help her and prove to her, as well as to myself, that love can work and last.
And I keep getting proven wrong. I really don't want to be doomed to follow in my parents' footsteps and live dogged by failed and broken relationships, but at a more and more rapid clip lately it's been hitting me that maybe it's unavoidable. Maybe I'm meant to be alone. I've said it before, but never has it seemed truer.
I would give everything to not have to continue this way; to find something and be able to hold onto it.
Save me from this. Somebody.

Awesome Sauce:

2008-11-06T17:00:00.002-05:00

n. A delicious edible made of pure awesomeness which immediately provokes euphoria; anything which is compared to this. i.e., That song is awesome sauce.

Good times, good times.

Double Up

2008-11-04T22:51:00.001-05:00

Went to Outback with Geanine and Danny and Mary tonight.
First of all, we had the coolest waiter ever. He had "Veritas" on his hand (a Boondock Saints reference for those of you who didn't know -- amazing movie). We all wrote him a note on a $10 bill and signed it.
Second of all, paper mache just became exciting.
Third of all, I AM FREE.
Life is good.

2008-11-02T10:21:00.003-05:00

They say a tingle running down your spine is indicative of fear. What then, is suggested by the type that runs up your spine? You know: It comes up, hits the back of your neck, and then just shoots out in all directions until your whole body is pins and needles for a second, and then the cycle starts all over again.
I don't know what it is. But I kind of liked it. And now I'm kind of addicted to cinnamon gum.
Thanks, Geni.

Out into the deep blue...novel?

2008-10-25T16:26:00.002-04:00

My pre-manuscript notes have piled up to a ridiculous degree in the past two weeks of prep, and I've finally decided that it's time to get going on the bulk of the project.
That's right. A Tale of Two Princes is coming off the drawing board and hitting the page. I'm working on an average of 5 pages per day, so the first draft should be finished by April. I'll give myself another 6 months to revise, and then a year to get it on shelves. I've got a lot of people anticipating the end of this road, and as such, you can bet that I won't back out halfway through.
I'm diving in. October 2010, here we come!

Down, but not out.

2008-10-19T15:40:00.003-04:00

I'm going to try and walk out of this one with a smile. After all, it's only been a week.
I guess those circumstances I was talking about worked against a relationship more than I initially suspected. At least we didn't go far enough to make friendship impossible...or maybe I did. Only time will tell.
To put it bluntly (because sometimes nothing else really cuts it) I fucking hate God's habit of toying with me. On the other hand, I guess this gives me more time to work on my book. But is that happiness really fair compensation?
I think this calls for guitar more than anything.

"I miss you."

2008-10-17T23:30:00.004-04:00

Oh, the power in those words.
As I write this, I'm listening to "Princes and Damsels" by Jake Goodman (yes, I'm still listening to that guy) and talking with my cousin Kate on another 'net tab.
My first words: "hey there."
Hers: "i miss you."
After a few moments of silence, she said, "let's see each other, really soon."
I don't know why. Those words just hit me a bit hard. See, my girlfriend and I have both had it a bit rough in the romance department, and both of us are done with being young and reckless and free-falling (enjoyable as it may be). So despite all the promising beginnings, we're taking it real slow -- treading carefully, so to speak -- not that that's a bad thing. It just...lacks the thrill I'm used to.
I feel like if I was actually able to just sit down and talk with her and hang out away from the class desks more often, then things might get where I feel they could be, but everything's stopping that from happening.
I just wish I could hear Silvia say something like "let's see each other, really soon." I know she would, given the chance. But our increasingly busy lives are conspiring against us.
So here I sit at the computer, with a dead cell phone in my hand. It died as I was leaving Silvia a voice mail. Right before I said the words "I miss you."

Down to Business.

2008-10-15T19:01:00.003-04:00

A Tale of Two Princes has a lot of potential -- so much, in fact, that I don't trust myself with it. I've started taking this very, very seriously (don't get me wrong, I have no doubt that the process will still be enjoyable); the manner in which I've decided to get things done is, I think, very businesslike.
The book has several phases...

1. History
2. Romance
3. Buildup
4. Pursuit/Revenge (Active Protagonist)
5. Cat-and-Mouse (Active Antagonist)
6. Confrontation

I've presented my synopsis to a host of people, and of these, I've found several who are particularly interested in one phase of the story over all the others. I still need a couple more, but the plan is this: once I have a person designated for each phase, I'll have them shoot as many questions at me and pose as many suggestions as they can, concerning plot, character, setting, etc. All this input will be taken into consideration, and these six peoples' names will appear in the "Special Acknowledgments" section once the book is released.
This is shaping up extremely well. It's going to be a very engaging project. So don't expect to hear from me for a while; I'll be too busy writing. :)

Freedom!

2008-10-14T16:22:00.003-04:00

You're all still free to assist with A Tale of Two Princes, but I'm now very much past my Writer's Block. Turns out all I had to do was extend the beginning of the book, return to the origins, and write a six-page synopsis of the whole thing. Who knew?
On a different note, I just finished reading Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell yesterday for the third time around. I think I'm going to take a vacation from reading for a while; who knows where to -- behind the sky; the other side of the rain...it's all just as well. I need some time to focus more on the Tale.
I'm beginning to think that, despite this being very early in a writing career that hasn't even taken off yet, A Tale of Two Princes will be my masterwork. I just get the feeling. This concept is so full of things that I can work with, on so many levels, that it may be the best writing I'll ever produce. And while that may seem very energizing at first, it's also very daunting to think that if, indeed, this proves true, another such work will never come from my hands again.
It's an interesting journey -- and one I fully intend to carry out to its completion. Wish me luck!

Writer's Block

2008-10-12T20:23:00.003-04:00

I'm having some trouble with my Tale of Two Princes, and I could use some assistance. Check out the excerpts I've posted thus far, and send me an email(seraphim407@gmail.com). I'll provide any plot details I have set down so that you can give useful suggestions. And for those of you asking in your heads, yes, your name will appear in the Special Acknowledgments once the book is released.
I need all the help I can get here. Much appreciated!

Urban Monk

2008-10-12T11:02:00.001-04:00

My head feels naked. But Silvia likes it, so I won't complain.

And We Have Liftoff

2008-10-11T09:26:00.003-04:00

I can't quite describe it. But then again, it's one of those things that defies description; words may paint a picture, but no amount can fully do it justice.
It's like water. No cage of words can capture it; no net, no matter how carefully woven, can pull it in for inspection; and just when you think you have the answer in your hands, it slips away, leaving you only with droplets and the strangest sense of futility.
It's times like this, when you're falling and flying at the same time, that words utterly fail. Love is one of the few beautiful things that make this ugly world tolerable.
I'm in the clouds. We have liftoff.

Another Excerpt from "A Tale of Two Princes"

2008-10-09T11:36:00.005-04:00

In the East Courtyard of Trietus Mansion, two figures sat amidst the gardens and ponds with a table between them, and upon that checkered table were chess--pieces. The air had rather a bit of chill, and the two figures were dressed accordingly: one was bundled in a black greatcoat and gloves, while the other favored worn leather and a scarf. On a smaller table beside them rested two empty cups of tea, still breathing steam into the fall air -- the drifting aroma of the steaming tea-leaves mingled with that of the flowers in the surrounding gardens, and together with the soft gurgle of a waterfall striking the nearby pond, and with the singing of birds, this lent to the scene a most pleasant and tranquil atmosphere.
But on the contrary, the atmosphere at the chess-table was quite tense.
It was Alphonse's move; he sat perfectly still, scrutinizing the board most intently -- the tremendous strain of such hard thought clearly showed on his face -- while Balthazar sat equally motionless, his icy blue eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. When Alphonse, after excruciating deliberation, made his move, Balthazar's response came after only a moment or two.
Again, Alphonse was left to puzzle over the board. He tried watching Balthazar for some indicator of emotion or thought, but his face was an unreadable mask; his eyes betrayed nothing of the plan that had formed behind them. And so Alphonse returned to his scrutiny of the board. It was not so full of options as it had once been: almost every Black piece -- in one move -- had been pinned to its square, and the choices that remained were not at all favorable. He sighed, massaging his temples. "I don't see what I can do," he admitted at last. "It's useless."
Balthazar laughed; Alphonse cocked an eyebrow.
"My dear Alphonse," he tutted, "you surely know why I'm laughing."
A servant rushed over at the casual wave of Balthazar's hand, refilled their teacups, and promptly darted off again.
Alphonse confessed that he did not.
"You've finally stumbled upon a correct answer, but in a situation where it provides no help." Balthazar chuckled as he sipped his tea -- this produced a strange, muffled echo in the cup. He set it back on the side and laced his gloved fingers together, resting his elbow on the edge of the chess-table. "By chance, did you see what I was planning?"
Alphonse was tired of confessing his own ignorance, and so as a response he contemplated his tea.
"I apologize, then -- I gave you too much credit. Here, let me show you..."
And he set about, with visual demonstration, explaining the few possibilities that gave Alphonse the slightest hope of a draw -- "...at this point, it was all you could have hoped for, you know..." -- and listing, for each, the lengthy multilayered counters and eventual victories which Balthazar had conceived and formulated. Such was the length of his explanation that both brothers' teacups were again empty when he finished, and the sundial nearby -- which had read two o'clock when he began -- was now very near to half-past two.
"Do you see now?" he asked finally, setting the board for another game.
Alphonse, watching the sunlight breaking and twisting in the ripples of a nearby pond, stifled a yawn. "O told you before,m Brother, that I already saw the pointlessness of continuing. It doesn't make it any clearer to know every reason why. If anything, I'm more confused now that I was half an hour ago." He stood, shook the stiffness out of his limbs, and gave Balthazar a nod. "I should be making my way to Caulsen-square now."
"To see Julia?" Balthazar smiled.
"No; to see an opera. She's been anxious to immerse me in theatre."
"I'm thrilled for you. Be sure to tell me what you both think of it later."
With that, Alphonse turned and left.
Balthazar, watching his brother depart, pondered their last chess game. Every position was systematically arranged in a mental list: every aspect, every motive behind each move, every piece's role, every square's importance...
From his coat, Balthazar produced a journal and fountain-pen, and began to write.

The opera house in Caulsen-square was not very much like others of its kind -- in fact, its extravagance and novelty begged the question of whether there really was another of its kind at all. Of course it followed the conventions of grand mahogany doors, lamplit crimson drapes on the exterior, and a sculptural fountain on either side of its entrance, but in every other respect it strove to defeat the other opera-houses of Ambros with its magnificence.From the bar-lounge, where patrons smoked and drank and discussed their relatives' health during intermission, to the restrooms set in marble, and to the main hall with delicate chandeliers all over -- even to the flying buttresses and the upper balconies, each a work of art in and of itself -- the opera-house in Caulsen square took no reserve in announcing itself -- or, of more importance to the patrons, its high price.
It was to this opera-house that Julia Khomnus had invited Alphonse Trietus, to see the theatrical adaptation of her favorite novel (Qualis Artifex Pereo by Robin Fischer).
They arrived twenty minutes early in Alphonse's coach, adn when they stepped out, it is fair to say that they caused quite a commotion -- Julia, in keeping with what was fashionable in Ambros and what was not, had advised Alphonse previously in choosing an outfit ("But what would I go in!" he had groaned, pacing the stone walls of a pasture neat Trietus Mansion. She had given him a smile and sighed: "It the easiest thing in the world, once you know what people expect"...). And so, to avoid the crowd that was forming in the square, Alphonse had taken Julia inside the opera-house, where they purchased their tickets and hid in the lounge.
Julia was laughing as she found a sofa by the fire and seated herself. Alphonse followed suit, sweeping back the tails of his coat as he did so.
"What were you thinking, bringing me so early?" She fanned herself with one hand, a smile on her face.
Alphonse shrugged. "I had to escape my brother."
Julia paused for a moment, as if wondering why, and then, remembering Balthazar, nodded. "I can understand that."
A man strode over from behind the bar. "Would you like anything to drink before the show? Perhaps try our latest import?"
Alphonse looked up. "Red or white?"
"Red, sir."
"Then I'll be glad to try it."
"And you, ma'am?"
"I'll have a glass as well."
"Excellent. Just a moment." And he returned with two cups of crystal a few seconds later.
"So," Alphonse began, once the man had been paid and returned to the bar, "what should I be expecting? Tragedy? Epic? Comedy? Romance?" he swirled his wine and sipped it.
Julia waved a finger at him. "In this city, you can't take anything for granted. If I were to tell you about the novel, what we see tonight may turn out to be a radical interpretation, something altogether different."
"You don't seem to be expecting much," he mused.
"Quite the opposite, actually. I'm expecting great things -- I just don't expect that they'll necessarily be the same great things exhibited by the original work."
They shared a look for a moment. Then: "That's fair."
Julia smiled. "Suffice it to say, the novel doesn't belong to any of the types you seem to anticipate. It's a masterful blend of the four."
"I'll take your word for it."

Excerpt from "A Tale of Two Princes"

2008-10-08T18:40:00.003-04:00

Khomnus mansion was quiet -- in fact, not simply quiet, but hanging in what seemed to be a pause in speech, an ear-straining silence of the most unnerving sort. All those in the mansion waited for a sound to be heard in the night, eyes open as they lay in their beds, breathing shallow from tension, as if in a trance.
In a roomy bedchamber, cast in silver by the moonlight spilling through a window, was Julia Khomnus: pale, cold, and asleep. Only she, it seemed, in her poisoned unconsciousness, was impervious to the mansion's eerie stillness.
Only she and Balthazar Trietus.
He appeared from the shadows cloaking the perimeter of the chamber, stepping across the carpet without a sound but for the rustle of his dark clothes -- he seemed quite like a ghost -- with his intent, icy gaze and such a calm expression on his face, and skin so pale it very much seemed to glow in the moonlight.
Upon reaching Julia's bedside, Balthazar grew still: his eyes grew deeper, and his brow furrowed as if some annoying fly insisted on buzzing about him as he watched her. After a while, though, he seemed to decide that lingering in his enemies' home any longer than necessary was not at all wise -- quickly, but with eerily fluid motion, he extracted from various pockets throughout his person a small phial of alcohol; a cotton swab; a syringe; and a tiny bottle, capped with a rubber membrane and containing a small amount of clear solution, and placed these items neatly and silently on the bedside-table. Without pausing for a moment, Balthazar checked Julia's pulse with two tapered, slender fingers at various points upon her right arm and, having located a vein quite near enough to the skin, picked up the phial and the cotton swab, emptying the measured contents of the former onto the latter. The phial vanished back into one of Balthazar's pockets, and once he had swabbed the determined spot on Julia's arm, the cotton disappeared as well. Every action was practiced and rehearsed top perfection beforehand: the swiftness and care of their execution was infallible, even as Balthazar lifted the bottle of solution, upturned it, and with the syringe pierced the rubber membrane. Once the syringe was filled to the desired measurement, Balthazar pocketed the bottle and leaned over Julia, inserting the syringe into the crook of her elbow and gently easing the plunger down until the syringe's contents were gone.
Stowing the syringe, Balthazar retrieved the swab and cleaned Julia's arm, before returning it once again to his pocket. Then, gently, he put the back of one hand to Julia's forehead; the same intent, deeply contemplative expression on his face.
"Soon," he muttered -- more to himself, or even to the cold, empty, silent air of the room, than to Julia -- "Soon, this war will be over, and I will find my throne waiting in its wake." Balthazar allowed the corner of his lips to rise in the faintest of smiles.
And then he was gone.

Trippy

2008-10-04T12:16:00.003-04:00

My last post reminded me: I forgot to post up pictures of the time I spent with my brother during this last trip to Chicago.

Gina and the Boogie (Addison) at Wannabe Beach.

Little Emilio.

Isaac, about to throw a fit.

Big Emilio, Little Emilio, and Addison.

Ponderings of Fraternity

2008-10-03T16:43:00.002-04:00

I read The Kite Runner, which turned out to be an amazing book. I can't thank Silvia enough for finally putting it in my hands. And it's got me thinking.
In my experience, at least, fraternity isn't limited to blood. It's a bond that can form anywhere, under the strangest and most unexpected of circumstances; a bond that can withstand any number of troubles. I can name six people who might not be my blood, but who I know would never turn against me, and who I would never turn against.
But I can't help but wonder when it comes to the one man who I can call my brother in blood. If not for the familial relation -- or at least the knowledge of it -- would we be capable, as friends, of being as close as we are today? Would I call him whenever I were in need of support, or would I turn to someone else? Would he have named his firstborn son after me, or perhaps have given the honor to another? Would I have written stories of his friendship and company, or would a different name have struck the page? And would he have chosen me as one of those at his wedding to stand behind him?
I really don't know. I hope that the former, rather than the latter, answers are true, but I can't tell. I've never put much stock in hypotheticals, as you can't judge the outcome without living the circumstances, but this book just struck a chord. It just made me wonder.
Because I love my brother. And I look up to him more than anyone else. Some might think this unwise, as he is a 23-year old UPS driver and father of three, but I beg to differ. That guy busts his ass day-in and day-out to support his family, he shows his wife and children more love than one would believe is possible after an exhausting day at work, and he listens to whatever you have to say. He's more of a man than anyone else I know; he does our family proud.
I don't know what I'd do without him.

Assessment

2008-09-28T20:03:00.002-04:00

When I spend too much time around a chessboard, I tend to think of life as just another game, just another challenge. Every action or statement is a move; every thought is a plan, an assessment.
For the most part, I like to think I'm in control, that I'm making the right moves and picking up on all the important characteristics of the situation.
Yet I feel like I may have missed something; that I've been getting ahead of myself, and that I should step back and look deeper. In any case, my moves to this point have been made, and it's on the table.
But this could take a while.

Recent Stories.

2008-09-27T00:46:00.004-04:00

Oh, boy.
To talk of all that has transpired is to relay tragedy and epic and romance, which -- though writer I may be -- is an impossible task for me to carry out in this one sitting at my keyboard.
So, in my exhaustion, before I rest myself, I will divulge hints of recent happenings (some in almost riddle form) and leave the rest to the reader to surmise however he (or she) may.

Recent Story 1:
I have become a man without a country.

Recent Story 2:
I am El Capitan, in ways I never could have hoped during my adventures with the Bayside High School chess team last year.

Recent Story 3:
I am ditching my parachute and ready for the fall. This has to do at once with the perks of being a wallflower and The Office.

More soon!

2008-09-14T11:12:00.002-04:00

This is Emilio, reporting live from Danny's.
Spent the night. Hoping to get some recording done with Steve, his stepfather, today. I've got my guitar and loop pedal and mic and all the necessary cables.
In other news, I've started playing chess again. And it's true, I have been on a chessic hiatus since this past school year ended. But I've just gotten back into it recently, and I seem to be shaking off my rust fairly quickly. I've won every game I've played.
Chess club starts next week! I'm pumped.

Psyched.

2008-09-13T12:31:00.003-04:00

The impending arrival of cool things is measured in "weeks from now"(wfn)...(except possibly my recording session and the arrival of some of my music on myspace.com/emiliovelezmusic, which could happen tomorrow)

First of all, 2 wfn:
The Office, season 5 premiere. THIS IS GONNA BE AN AWESOME AND AWKWARD SEASON.

Second, 1 wfn:
Chess club begins again. This time around -- since the school noticed how one kid can take a scrappy chess club; turn it into a team; and with that team, grab the gold in their first tournament -- TWO TRAILERS, not ONE cramped little room, are going to be vacated for the chess team's use every Thursday; loads of chess books and studying resources have been ordered for us; more chess sets have been bought for the team's use in their new trailers; and recruitment announcements are going to be made on the loudspeaker every morning for a month.
This is already shaping up to be a good year for the team, and it's still 1 wfn.

No, You Don't

2008-09-09T21:59:00.002-04:00

No, you don't
Know a thing
About this pain that I've felt
About my personal hell

No, you don't
Want to see
Past what I've put into this kiss
All the things that I hid
From you

And I whisper
So softly
Into your ear
That I want a way out
That I need a way out
But you don't hear

No, you don't
Hear a thing
My words echo in the room
They echo right through you

No, you don't
Know a thing
About this pain that I've felt
About my personal hell

No, you don't
Want to see
Past what I've put into this kiss
All the things that I hid
From you

Wise Men or Fools

2008-09-05T21:35:00.003-04:00

Nap in the park
In the shade of a tree
Wake up and play some guitar
My mind's at ease again
I'm surrounded by my friends

Sitting here chilling
Everything's cool
We might be wise men
Or we might be fools, but
We don't care
We're just sharing our tune with the world

Yeah, the world goes round and round
While we sit here making our sounds
But we don't pay no mind
To the passing time

We just park it up
And jam it out
'Cause living's what we're all about
You can bet I'll be here
When summertime comes by again

Yeah, the world goes round and round
While we sit here making our sounds
But we don't pay no mind
To the passing time

'Cause it's all about the music
Yeah, it's always been just us and our music
But that's the way we like it
And that's the way we'd like it to stay

At Your Door

2008-09-02T22:28:00.002-04:00

Lost in thought
What I sought
Is lost on me
It's a mystery
'Cause all I see
Is you

Standing there
And I don't dare
To make a move
'Cause I'm moved by you
Just doing
What you do

I don't know
What to make of this
When the moment seems so delicate
A single word could break it

So I guess I'll take a chance
Gather up some courage
And take your hands
In mine

That's when I kiss you

I close my eyes
You blow my mind
It feels so good
Life is better
Than it should
Ever be

And I'd kiss you again
But you've got to go
Our day is at an end
Our day is at an end

Summer is at an End

2008-09-01T20:41:00.002-04:00

Well, this is it (I get the feeling I've started off several entries with those words, but I'm having trouble remembering).
School starts tomorrow. I've got to get my act straight. (I've said that a few too many times. It's slightly discouraging.)
(Am I using parentheses too much?)
(I'm sorry. I'll stop.)

Takeoff.

2008-09-01T00:56:00.007-04:00

I feel set on a road without guidance.
Circa 2004, I began taking bass lessons at the Music Zoo here in New York. The first time I met my teacher, Anders, I didn't know what to think of him. He was kind of crazy("aren't we all, though?" I had corrected myself), but I soon saw that I had a lot to learn from him musically. I progressed under his tutelage, and discovered more than a teacher behind that curtain of purposely disarrayed hair. We had grown on each other. I had found a friend in this man who, when he could see I was down, gave advice and consolation that I could trust; who shared the joy of my good days; who cracked jokes to soften my serious edge; who gave my fingers wings.
There were days, of course, where Anders couldn't make it to the Zoo, and I was assigned to other teachers there. I never worked as well with them. It always seemed for both parties involved to be an "alright, let's get this over with so I can leave" thing.
On the long car ride back from Chicago, I anticipated telling Anders during our next session about my performance at Pinocchio's; to show him what I'd recorded on my new loop pedal; to throw high fives and laugh and walk out feeling that I'd done him proud. But when I unpacked the car and got on the computer, I saw that Anders had sent me a message. I was shocked and tremendously disappointed to read that he'd left the Zoo behind.
It seems I should do the same.

Here's to the good times, making music in that claustrophobic little room. They'll be sorely missed.

"Parade" by Jake Goodman

2008-08-30T12:49:00.003-04:00

Listen to it here. Come back while it plays.

There's something in this picture that's not quite right: I had a few nausea issues after the breakup (to be honest, I think the stress caused them), so my therapist and psychiatrist -- who thought they might have been caused by the meds -- cut all my prescriptions. Understand that I was thanking God for this; those damn pills were hampering my creativity and my drive to create. I was jumping for joy. And the nausea went away. My therapist and psychiatrist saw this as proof that the meds were the problem; I had known that they were a problem all along, but not this problem. The way I see it, the nausea went away because I was no longer hung up on my loss: I was finally able to create, and I took full advantage of the revival.
Lo and behold, the nausea factor has come back with a vengeance. I can barely even look at food this time around. But I'm still creating. Actually, since I got a loop pedal, I've been creating more than ever.
My thoughts have been straying back to that girl.
So don't tell me that there's something wrong with me. And don't tell me that there isn't. Because I know there is.
My brother's asleep right now. If he were awake, I know he'd bring me out of this and find some way to cheer me up. He's cool like that. But he's asleep.
So the poofing and squeaking will continue (inside joke).

Fraternity

2008-08-29T22:07:00.002-04:00

This is what it's all about.

Another Round at Pinocchio's

2008-08-29T02:34:00.005-04:00

Finally -- FINALLY! -- I've taken "Dear Michelle"(in its entirety, this time) beyond the confines of my home turf. Dad and Mario had their last show at Pinocchio's just a few hours ago. Once their set was done, Dad gave me the stage; I strummed up and belted out.
It was awesome.
On a vaguely related note: last week after I performed my "Dear Michelle" instrumental, I asked the barmaid at Pinocchio's, Tanya, for a piece of paper and a pen. As paper, she gave me a rather long receipt. So I wrote the beginnings of a song, stuffed the receipt in my pocket, and forgot about it. Only yesterday did I find the incomplete song and finish it. It developed into my last entry ("Better Days") -- though between the barmaid and I, the song will be known as "Tanya's Receipt".

On another related note: the guy who took the stage after I was done, Jake Goodman, is an AMAZING rhythmist. Check out his stuff here.

Better Days

2008-08-28T01:24:00.006-04:00

Better days
They're all behind me
When I'd call you
And say "I'm coming home."

Better days
I hoped that they'd find me
But now
I spend my nights alone

Dreaming
It seems that you'll see
If you think back
To when you were with me

Back to our better days
Spent in a better place
Nights when I'd stay awake
Dreaming of your face

Back when I'd say I'm coming home
I loved you more than I could show
But now
I spend my nights alone

Better days
When you'd meet me out back
And kiss me before I could walk in the door
Yeah, you made it all right

Those better days
No, they're not coming back
And you couldn't even kiss me
Goodbye

Dreaming
It seems that you'll see
If you think back
To when you were with me

Back to our better days
Spent in a better place
Nights when I'd stay awake
Dreaming of your face

Yeah, back then, you made it right
And I could hold you close at night
But you're not coming back (x3)
And you couldn't even kiss me goodbye

With the Internet as My Witness

2008-08-26T13:33:00.004-04:00

I've heard way too many times what happens to the average band: they release their first album...it's a hit...they run through the streets and scream when they first hear their hit on the radio...they play their first show...they embark on their first tour...something happens along the line where one of them, who was enough of a jerk already, hits his peak once fame has gone to his head...another one goes off and does his own thing...another one is happy with the money he made, and leaves with it...and finally, you've got the one who was in it for the music all along, and is left in the wake of the band's disassembly, the only one left who wanted to keep going for music's sake.
That's where I come in.

Right here, right now, with the internet as my witness, I will swear that if ever I am among a group of musicians, I will be there -- whether it be on a stage, in a studio, or on a tour bus -- FOR MUSIC'S SAKE. Because music is what I'm all about.

High on Music and a Little Bit Richer

2008-08-22T03:06:00.002-04:00

Well, I made my appearance at Pinocchio's tonight. Quite the show. And I can't help but feel overpaid. Thirty bucks for an instrumental "Dear Michelle"? Come on.
But what an experience.

HOLY CRAP.

2008-08-21T09:39:00.002-04:00

I'm gonna be hitting the stage tonight.
Why am I on the computer?
I should be warming up.

I'll get back to you all by tomorrow afternoon.

Renaissance Man

2008-08-19T00:46:00.006-04:00

I went to the Bristol Renaissance Faire yesterday. Quite the adventure.
Within fifteen minutes of entering the Faire, my group stumbled upon a clearing with a low-branching tree in the center. A couple of nymphs were sitting in the tree, who I came to know as Autumn and Flower:

I have to say I fell tragically in love with Flower. Why tragically? Because I followed her around for several hours to capture more shots, and by the end of the day, she decided it would be fun to tie me to a tree with vines.

I wonder if this is common among photographers.

On the Road Again

2008-08-15T08:41:00.002-04:00

Here it is. I'm bracing myself for the 16-hour drive to Chicago (not like I have anything to brace myself for -- I'll be sitting in the back seat with my guitar almost the whole ride).
But it's always nice to be on the road for a few hours, even when it does get claustrophobic.
Here's something: my dad and my cousin, Mario, put on a show at this place called Pinocchio's every Thursday. This coming Thursday I'll be taking the stage for a bit.
Wish me luck. I'll keep you all posted.

IIOII

2008-08-07T17:18:00.002-04:00

A circle of glasses sitting on the floor. Nobody takes a pass, they're ready for one more. So I pour a round for all the boys and turn the music down. "I'd like to propose a toast," I say, "to the here and now. To wild nights, drunken fights, and using pots and pans for drums. To favorite parts and playing guitar 'til our fingertips go numb. Here's to never growing up!"
As we kick 'em back, I'm thinking that there's nothing in the world like drinking with my brothers, bound by blood or not. So we shuffle up and deal 'em out. We bluff and bet and laugh about our lousy hands as we take another shot.

Lost in the Music

2008-08-05T16:46:00.003-04:00

I'm freaking myself out here.
I've finally found the groove I've been looking for for the past four years.
I had some good periods when writing my books, but never like this. I've been spitting out two songs a week. I kid you not.
I guess I've just had so much to get out there that it built up, and when I decided to learn guitar it exploded. Not the guitar. My creative reserves.
I'm absorbing myself in the six-string so bad that some people have called me insane. But then they hear my music and they say, "Oh. So that's what you've been up to."
It's beautiful.

Leaving You Behind

2008-08-04T16:20:00.005-04:00

Yesterday
I thought I saw your face
Behind a window in Bay Terrace
Where we first met
And I don't know why
I just stopped and sighed
It's been like this every day
In the six months since you left

I dreamt today
Of a different place
As I sat on the rocks at Fort Totten
Where we used to go
And I watched the sun
Sink below the horizon
With a record of us beside me
All the pages I wrote

I think back and remember
My brother's words
How all these things were mine
Before they were yours

So I pick up the leather-bound memories
And throw them into the shifting tide
I'm leaving you behind

This same old town
It holds me down
With all these shadows of you
That make my footsteps slow
So I pack my things
I'm ready to spread my wings
I think I'll be better off
In the city of Chicago

Next time you go down to Fort Totten
To reflect on you and me
When you sit out on the rocks
I hope you see

The hundred pages of memories
I scattered on the shifting tide
To show that I'm leaving you behind

Brotherhood = Infinity

2008-07-06T22:42:00.002-04:00

Sorry, all! I know I haven't posted for quite some time. Let's pretend this is my entry for 6/30/08. Keep in mind, I'll be talking from my past self's point of view.

How I got there is a long story, but I spent the past week at my bro's place in Chicago. While he was at work, I would keep Addison entertained (let me make it clear right now that this is the happiest baby I have seen in my life); when he got home, we would walk down to the beach and talk about life and things in general (sound familiar?) and play the Wii back at his apartment.
To sum it up, this past week was the best time of my life. No moment I ever had with Liz even comes close.
Oh, and by the way, here's my favorite quote from the visit:

Jonathan: Are you having fun?
Me: Are you kidding?
Jonathan: Well, are you happy?
Me: Hell yes!
Jonathan: Does it have anything to do with Liz?
Me: No.
Jonathan: Good. You're learning. (He followed this up by blasting the car radio, which was playing "Rainy Monday" by Shiny Toy Guns. We both smiled and rocked out to the music.)

At the visit's end, my brother gave me his hat (pics to come) as a reminder that, no matter what goes wrong or no matter where I am in my life, there's always our brotherhood, and nothing can break that. And as long as we have our brotherhood, we can have weeks like this.
From this day forward, I swear on my name that I shall not be seen without that hat on my head (except maybe in class).
Cheers, bro! Couldn't have had a time like that without you!

"Gravity" by Coldplay

2008-06-15T20:34:00.004-04:00

Dear Whoever,

I know you're out there. You might have been made for me; I might have been made for you -- I really don't know anymore. I think I stopped believing somewhere down the line.
I'm a romantic in an age where romance is dead. In places where I should really shine, with people who I should be happy with, I'm only turned down. I'm passed by simply because no one knows what they want these days.
My point is the way I am. I need to be able to share an experience, to share life, to share love. I need a girl who gets me enough to share in my experiences and my life and my love and understand what it all means.
I've begun to think that I'm asking for too much. I've begun to think that I'll never find anyone; that there isn't anyone out there who's made for me or who I was made for. Maybe the things everyone is telling me are lies. I'm just really uncertain at this point. What I've seen has made me doubt almost everything that I've ever believed.
And with me being the way I am, it's hard to take. So if you're out there, and if what I once believed in was true, show me. Make yourself known.

---my message in a bottle

2008-06-14T01:16:00.000-04:00

Don't know what to say, really.
I'm tremendously disappointed right now. For a lot of reasons. Well, no, not really. I can't quite pin it down just yet, but I think it might just be a couple of reasons. How many? Well, let's see what I can list.

1. I may have said that I was over certain things, when in fact, I might never be over them. As an example, I'm realizing that I'll probably finish this entry at 1:29 a.m. on the dot, and that saddens me. You either know the significance of that number or you don't.

2. I used to believe in things working out. Honestly, I did. I believed it so much that, at the age of sixteen, I was saving my nickels and dimes with the hope of kicking off a life together with a girl. Take a wild guess who. And take a wild guess why this disappoints me.

3. I had my chance. I had it good. The operative word being had. If I still had that chance, you can bet whatever you want that I would have nailed it and walked away a winner.

That's pretty much it. That's all I can nail down, at least. And there you go. 1:29 a.m. on the dot.

Circle of Solace

2008-06-02T13:22:00.000-04:00

I've finally found it. I've found my niche.
I belong among my brothers: Jonathan, Johnny, Matthew and Matt Weiss. Turning to Liz for happiness was stupid of me. Women come and go; they're known for spitting in your face and walking away. But my brothers? I know they'll never turn on me.
They'll always be game for traipsing around through the night and the early morning; they'll always have something to say that'll cheer me up when I'm down. They'll always be the ones who hear what I'm saying and relate to it when no one else can. They understand the feeling called infinity, and like me, they live for it.
So that's it. I'm swearing this girl off.
My brothers are the only company I need.

Project Chess City Council Cup Champions!

2008-05-31T21:15:00.000-04:00

In the four-round Project Chess City Council Cup tournament in Brooklyn today, my school's team brought home the gold! We're putting the cup in the trophy case this coming Monday.

My personal record was 3-1, losing only in the final round, and tying for second place with a few other students (Adrian among them). I lost to the same dude who brought down Adrian in the second round -- who was also the only competitor in the High School section of the tournament to reach a record of 4-0. I guess if you're gonna lose to anybody, you should lose to the best guy in the room, right? Right.

If interested, you can check out the games here!

Active Weekend

2008-05-25T21:59:00.000-04:00

Well, this has been interesting.
Yesterday:
2:00 p.m.:Arrive at park in Forest Hills with my cousin Matthew to play chess with Adrian.
6:30 p.m.: Finish playing chess, get picked up by mom. Drive to Carom billiards cafe in Flushing to meet Johnny and Matt Weiss.
7:30 p.m.: Johnny and Matt arrive. Play ping pong until roughly 10:00 p.m.
10:30 p.m.: Finally decide on what to do next. Begin driving to Johnny's apartment in the city. Stay there and hang out.
2:30 a.m.: Arrive home. Remember the ping pong paddles are still in Matt Weiss's trunk and get his number from Johnny.
2:45 a.m.: Matt Weiss returns with paddles.
3:00 a.m.: Go to sleep.

Today:
1:37 p.m.: Wake up. Go through the usual morning stuff. (Fine, so it was the afternoon, but you get the point.)
4:08 p.m.: Arrive with Matthew at Carom billiards cafe to meet Adrian. Play ping pong until 7:00 p.m.
7:15 p.m.: Arrive at park near Carom and set up the chess set on a field.
7:30 p.m.: Finish playing chess because Adrian insists on playing soccer with some Mexicans across the field.
8:30 p.m.: Finish playing soccer with my lungs heaving and my manhood aching from a powerful soccer ball to the groin.
Roughly 8:40 p.m.: Arrive home again. Load up on food and water, get on computer.

And now I'm off to play some more chess with Matthew.
'Til next time, folks.

Today's the Day...

2008-05-23T21:42:00.000-04:00

Where nothing happened.
The simul didn't take place. My newfound determination to win since the losses last night has apparently developed into a near-bloodlust on the chessboard -- everybody must have sensed it; they simply...chickened out.
But! But!
I played Mr. Barnett instead, and massacred him. It was a lovely feeling. :)
Watch out, City Council Cup! I'm coming!

Today's the Day

2008-05-23T10:50:00.000-04:00

I'm kind of irritated. Last night, I must have played my cousin Matthew in five games of chess, and I only won one of them. And after all of my reading, it came down to the simple fact that my efforts did me no good. I can't improve in a matter of days by loading my head with principles. Practice is the only way, and I just didn't get enough practice.
I'm in this for the win, not the fun. I'm in this to create works of art in my games, and it just isn't happening. It's very irritating.
And today I'll be holding a simul. I have to find something before then to clear my head, so that I can focus on the games and the games alone.
All I know is, in this coming week before the tournament, I have to practice like crazy against my computer and against Matthew. Practice makes perfect, right? Right.
Everyone loves an underdog.
More news after the simul!

Tournament Prep (cont'd, with some other current events)

2008-05-22T10:40:00.000-04:00

Well, tomorrow's the day I'm holding my simul. The stress is piling on heavier than ever.
I'm currently reading Improve Your Chess in 7 Days by Gary Lane, Art of Attack in Chess by Vladimir Vukovic, Winning Chess Openings by Yasser Seirawan, and Winning Chess Strategies (again, by Yasser Seirawan) to get my mind in top form for the event to come.
My uncle dropped by last night to give me my late birthday present: a tournament board with pieces (including extra queens), a notation booklet, and a carrying bag for the lot. I'm thrilled with it. Me and my cousin Matthew, who was over at the time, broke it in immediately with a few blitz games. For those that don't know, by tournament standards a blitz game tops off at 15 minutes per player.
On a different note, I finally got my ping pong paddles in the mail that I ordered from amazon.com. I'm sorry, "table tennis rackets" is the professional term. I'll be trying one of them out today, again with Matthew (the other paddle/racket is a gift for someone).
Again on a different note, I'm finally getting some writing done on my original seven-book revenge story. I've decided that, this being the rough draft, I can structure it however I want, right? So I'm structuring it like a screenplay, simply reduced to lines of speech and stage directions. That way, when I go over it in revision, I just elaborate on the stage directions to fill in the gaps, and voila! I have my novel.
One more different note -- this will be the last time, I promise -- the title of favorite artist is now held by Jason Mraz for his songs "I'm Yours" and "If It Kills Me". Look them up at free.napster.com.
I'm out of current events for now. News on the simul results tomorrow!

Tournament Prep

2008-05-20T14:14:00.000-04:00

Chess, chess, chess.
This is what I call some serious chess stress. I need to train my team for the tournament on May 31st in Brooklyn, and I can only do it for an hour and a half every Friday. Which means I have a grand total of three hours left to get them all in good enough shape to tear down the competition.
This is ridiculous. And what we need to focus on, instead of how to conduct a proper attack, or what theory suggests for the Sicilian Defense, is how to write moves (since everybody needs to keep notation for their tournament games).
What to do? What to do?
Well, my brother suggested last night that, you know what? They're all making their own moves. I can't help them. I can only help myself win this tournament to give our school a good name. So this Friday, I'm holding a simultaneous exhibition against my entire chess club (for those that don't know, a simultaneous exhibition is where one player engages several opponents at once, walking from table to table and making a single move at a time). It will be a trial. I'm making sure to have enough money for three Red Bulls that day.
And next Friday, I'm going to get some batteries for the clocks we have in club and set up some timed games, to see if everyone's got what it takes to record the game while under pressure from the timer.
Wish me luck! These next two Fridays are only a taste of the pressure I'll be under on the 31st!

Misery Without Company -- a poem-portrait of despondency

2008-05-17T22:13:00.000-04:00

Here's a poem I wrote a long time ago. It's going to be published in my school's collection of student writings this year.

An ashtray full

Of butts and burning dust.

A hollow, half-lidded stare

Stuck on walls

While moonlit curtains blow.

A fresh cigarette unattended,

Held loosely

Between numb fingers.

Trailing smoke up and up.

A shot glass at his lips—

Locked and loaded,

Drained in a slow moment.

Falls over

When he puts it back.

Books

Scattered on his desk.

Read and reread and reread

To keep his thoughts at bay.

The empty bottle

Of harsh whiskey spent

And sitting in his stomach,

Stealing memory and feeling.

A dry dead red rose,

Brittle and cold.

Empty pillows

Hoarding the scent of her hair

And whispered promises

That stayed behind,

Haunting him

From across the room.

And her absence,

A hammer blow

That booms through the emptiness

And echoes away

To quiet teardrops on the floor.

Last Night...

2008-05-03T10:17:00.000-04:00

I just got off the phone with my bro. When it started out, I was depressed out of my mind, listening to "Asleep" by the Smiths and "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap. When he heard "Asleep" over the phone, he immediately asked me:
"Are you listening to 'Asleep'?"
"Yeah."
"Dude, you've gotta stop. Because if you kill yourself, I will kick your ass."
"How?"
"I would kick your dead ass so hard you'd feel it in the afterlife!"
I paused for about ten seconds...total silence. "Okay."
I guess I was in the bad place I was because, about half an hour earlier, I had been talking with my friend John, and he told me that Liz wanted to have nothing to do with me. I guess that since I had been holding onto our friendship in the hope of eventually getting back together with her, and now that she was cutting even that off, I was only just then feeling the full brunt of our breakup.
So, back to my talk with Jonathan. It started off with him asking me if I was alright. I just said, "I've got a problem with moving on."
"How so?" he had said. "What is it that you're holding onto? I mean, just having an outlet for affection or not being alone, or..."
"Yes. Every last bit of it."
"Well, that has nothing to do with her." And so he told me that really, it wasn't Liz that I have to get over, so much as just being alone. And how what she was doing had nothing to say about me, but it said a lot about her. But I'd heard that before.
He told me about how, while I had been giving Liz everything I could possibly give, I neglected myself. I didn't speak my own mind; I didn't come out of my shell. But I'd heard that before. And I said it.
So he told me that I had to think a lot about what I want out of a relationship, as in: do I want a girl who's artistic and introverted? Or all social-butterfly and musical? Or someone deep and receptive to all my ideas and views? Or...you get the point.
And so, where I started out depressed as hell and not knowing how to move on in any way, shape or form, I wound up standing from my bed, pacing and saying this:
"You know what's keeping me from moving on? It's this damn circle, my friends. I mean, they're great and all, it's just...nobody gets the concept of infinity or appreciates it in the manner that I do. I've tried spreading the perks of being a wallflower around like crazy, but nobody gets it, you know? I'll ask what their favorite part is, and they'll say, 'That part where he got high,' or something about his mid-plot epiphany, but nothing about that one damned sentence: 'I feel infinite.' I had Melissa, who understood it perfectly, but she moved to another school. So really, you're the only friend I have who's Charlie-esque enough to get me, and I have nobody over here. I guess, then -- well, I don't guess, I know -- that to move on, I've just got to find people like that, who get the infinity concept, who'll take that IIOII on their shoulder."
To which he replied: "Just be who you are. And if you are who you are, then those other people will find you; you don't have to go on a crazy hunt. And don't ever doubt who you are, even if other people don't get it. You're the man, okay? And here's how you know you're the man: Charlie would hang out with you. Bye."
Click.

2008-04-26T23:40:00.000-04:00

it's tough, you know? i just feel like ever since that day, with my dad and my brother, i've been in the middle. i was in the middle then, i'm in the middle now. i feel like with my help is the only way this is ever going to get fixed. my brother keeps saying "this doesn't involve you" or "don't let yourself get involved; it's between me and dad". my dad keeps saying "he's gone his own way; nobody can help him."

we're all stubborn. my dad refuses to talk to my brother unless my brother talks to him first, my brother refuses to talk to my dad unless my dad responds to his email, and i refuse to back out, even though no matter how hard i try they won't make contact. it's a predicament.

The Brothers' Birthday

2008-04-24T01:52:00.000-04:00

me and my bro got our birthdays rolled into one today.

but first, yesterday.
we went down to wannabe beach, where someone with way too much time on their hands had made a meditation circle out of sand (yes, that's right. a meditation circle. look it up. there was one at my brother's wedding. it was awesome.). We walked the circle, talked about what was going on in my life, as well as season 3 of the office, which i have yet to see. then we played video games until it was time for lights out.
and today was the cool part. imagine something cooler than that. jeez.

we (jonathan, gina and i) have a running joke about how my name was once misspelled "amelio", and how i can be referred to as "a melio" as opposed to the plural form, "milii". you have to know this to get it. anyway, we were driving to this place to surprise jonathan (it was basically a huge arcade) and gina passes me back a piece of paper, saying, "hey, emilio, can you read me these directions?"

the note, in sum and substance, said that there would soon be milii. my brother and his wife are naming one of their twin boys after me.

awesome!

it's an honor beyond words.

but yeah, so today -- or, should i say yesterday, since it's past midnight? -- we played at the arcade for about four or five hours, then headed down to this great barbecue place, and afterwards went for ice cream.

then we went back to the apartment and i played with addison for a bit. yup. i'm a proud uncle.

What Can You Do?

2008-04-23T10:19:00.001-04:00

i stayed the night at my bro's. and while i wait for him to wake up, i'm taking the time to think back. this probably isn't good for me.
getting anonymous comments from my friends doesn't help either.
life really is a weird thing. i mean, you pray for something -- all you do for two years is pray -- and you finally get it, and then you find a way to screw it up. then you pray some more for it to last...but this time, prayer doesn't work. it's very discouraging.
but hey, what can you do? that's life.
i'm gonna go back to sleep now. i only got five hours.

"While We Wait" by Jack Johnson

2008-04-22T17:45:00.001-04:00

"it feels right
it feels wrong
feels like when you have it
then it's gone"

this song makes me wonder about loss. more like it makes me remember in a thoughtful way. i don't know. it's just that when i listen to this song, i'm taken back to the poetry section of barnes and noble on that day, and for some reason i feel detached. i'm looking at it like a sympathetic outsider: feeling the pain, not wanting to, and all at once unable to take it in -- despite the fact that i was there for it all.
i was there for every damned second of it. and now i'm realizing that, you know what? the biggest mistake you can make in a relationship is getting involved in the first place.
this whole ordeal has made a bitter man out of me.