we do this everyday...
and frankly, i'm hooked!
what will my partner say???
does it qualify as -- having an affair???
what will my "straight" friends think?
they'll prob'ly dish-out
sordid things like -- i thought she was "bi"???
has she gone one way, all the way?
because everyday we do this...
and quite frankly,
i'm hooked...
lyza, sandee n i
have somethin' like a threesome
goin' on...
we do this everyday...
we do this everyday...
after post-shift,
tks corrections and whatnot,
after the last elid swipe...
it's downstairs from there...
hahaha... beer man...
drink beer!
we do this everyday.
one round of beer after shift.
and we do this everyday.
but seriously, i'm hooked.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Friday, November 13, 2009
...static...
and silence,
move a step forward
and
a couple of steps
back
to where she lay,
smothered in the sheets...
of someone else's
thought?
head?
sigh,
bed...
does she even think,
does she even know
does she have an idea
what consequences await,
do 1 thing,
and it all comes back
do 1 thing
like circle, things
have a way of coming back
threefold
how do you follow
the 8-fold path
to enlightenment
when all your dreams
regress back to the time
you felt you had him
you felt -- "he was mine..."
the kiss was the drug
i was his,
he was mine
now we both live on
borrowed time
he said i lost it,
i felt i lost it
then again, how can one
lose something that wasn't yours
in the first place?
would he even consider
would he even know
would he even feel
the slightest hint of regret
@ being too shallow
and not willing follow,
in the same manner that she shied away
when he said
she wasn't what he was looking for...
she should have stayed on
and bided her time
but she couldn't
she had been much too proud
for that...
and now everything seems
to be in static
and silence,
move a step forward
and
a couple of steps
back
to where she lay,
smothered in the sheets...
of someone else's
thought?
head?
sigh,
bed...
does she even think,
does she even know
does she have an idea
what consequences await,
do 1 thing,
and it all comes back
do 1 thing
like a circle, things
have a way of coming back
threefold
how do you follow
the 8-fold path
to enlightenment
when all your dreams
regress back to the time
you felt you had him
you felt -- "he was mine..."
*** a free verse done half-asleep, half-awake... waiting for a muse, needing to be amused, and wanting amusement... none found... still waiting...
Friday, November 06, 2009
crave...
how does one become addicted
to fame,
money,
popularity... ?
even physical pleasures,
in the form of
gluttony...
we cannot fathom,
think...
how does the mind really work?
do we always cloak our fears,
and shed crocodile tears...
like one boy
who cried...
WOLF!!!
savages, we all are
victims of fake humility...
do we suffer in silence
because of vanity...?
why do we crave,
why do we crave,
is the hunger as deep
as the need
to be sated... ?
think, dream,
... sleep
we all want an end,
maybe not as grandiose
as some,
while
others seem to be somewhat,
unfinished...
half-baked, half-done, half-full
if you look @ the glass,
what do you see...?
is it filled
with nothing but
alcohol...?
crave...
why do we hunger,
what do we seek...?
is the hunger as deep
as the need
to be sated...
think, dream,
... sleep
we all want an end,
maybe not as grandiose
as some,
that left with the sound of a gun
as big as a...
BANG!!!
while
others seem to be somewhat,
unfinished...
*** a free verse... done half-asleep, half awake... rants & musings... my whatever things... because today was a pleasant goodbye through keys that form words that looked like conversation...
Sunday, November 01, 2009
eyes, so silent...
silent eyes,
you watch, still
and spill your secrets,
when friends have long gone,
you watch,
you wait
never sleeping ever awake,
still, but breathing
my beloved internet...
treated more than a girl's best friend
beware of voyeurs,
my sweetest little pet...
secrets are heard,
secrets are read...
whenever you click the keys,
the words form a thread...
late nights spent
with my wishing well,
my newfound lover,
the d.s.l
secrets are poured
like wine on a glass
secrets are scoured,
on pages that pass...
there will aways be
engines that search,
engines that search,
engines that search,
for a hidden past...
***bored and in need of a muse...
Saturday, October 31, 2009
...must have been...
the weight of the world,
the feeling of helplessness,
the night wearing
you out, into a thin veil
of a man
i once admired...
the cruelest of times
the hand that was dealt,
the cards gone awry,
it must have been,
you think it's time
to say goodnight...
the last breath escapes
from parted lips,
your son's embrace
have not been missed
a message left
on my phone,
simply said,
that you were gone...
it must have been
that you have known
how much time has
simply thrown
you away...
but i do not think of it
that way,
you live,
you'll live
you will always live
in Bubba's eyes,
my son and daughter,
long after they bear their own...
it must have been,
that you simply need
to rest,
it has been a long journey
and your bones do ache
all we all are dust
in the end,
all we all turn to dust,
in the end...
*** the night turns to day, too much airconditioning must have frozen my brain, this is but half of what i wanted to say... farewell...
the feeling of helplessness,
the night wearing
you out, into a thin veil
of a man
i once admired...
the cruelest of times
the hand that was dealt,
the cards gone awry,
it must have been,
you think it's time
to say goodnight...
the last breath escapes
from parted lips,
your son's embrace
have not been missed
a message left
on my phone,
simply said,
that you were gone...
it must have been
that you have known
how much time has
simply thrown
you away...
but i do not think of it
that way,
you live,
you'll live
you will always live
in Bubba's eyes,
my son and daughter,
long after they bear their own...
it must have been,
that you simply need
to rest,
it has been a long journey
and your bones do ache
all we all are dust
in the end,
all we all turn to dust,
in the end...
*** the night turns to day, too much airconditioning must have frozen my brain, this is but half of what i wanted to say... farewell...
Monday, March 16, 2009
waiting, burning cd's and boredome...
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
Tchaikovsky was a Russian composer prolific during the Romantic period of music.During his life he wrote many ballets, operas, concerti and other works for orchestra and chamber groups, including some choral work. His music displays the dramatic and lyrical melodies that are characteristic of many pieces of Romantic music, but are distinctive because of their acknowledgment of folk melodies and familiar songs.
***Teehee... answer to "Which Classical Composer Are You?" quiz... sabeko nangaba, my listening to and fascination towards the nutcracker suite means something...
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
SECRETLY -- Skunk Anansie
I'VE BEEN BIDING MY TIME,
BEEN SO SUBTLY KIND,
I GOT TO THINK SO SELFISHLY,
'COS YOU'RE THE FACE INSIDE OF ME.
I'VE BEEN BIDING MY DAYS,
U SEE EVIDENTLY IT PAYS,
I'VE BEEN A FRIEND,
WITH UNBIASED VIEWS,
THEN SECRETLY LUST AFTER YOU.
SO NOW HE'S GONE RUSTY
YOU'RE BORED AND BEMUSED.
YOU WANNA DO SOMEONE ELSE,
SO YOU SHOULD BE BY YOURSELF,
INSTEAD OF HERE WITH ME,
SECRETLY.
TRYING HARD TO THINK PURE,
BLOODY HARD WHEN I'M RAW,
YOU TALKING OUT SO SEXUALLY,
'BOUT BOYS 'N GIRLS AND YOUR FRIGGIN' DREAMS
SO NOW YOU FEEL LUSTY,
YOU'RE HOT AND CONFUSED,
SO NOW YOU'VE BEEN BUSTED,
YOU'RE CAUGHT FEELING USED.
YOU HAD TO DO SOMEONE ELSE,
YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN BY YOURSELF,
INSTEAD OF HERE WITH ME,
SECRETLY...
*** omgoddess... why am i posting lyrics... i don't know...
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
... and he said...
"kiss me". She knew in her heart, that it would be the start of a slow, painful and deliberate death. Deliberate, because she learned eons ago what it was like to be within proximity of him. It was like running into a car-crash with the purpose of meeting it half way... And she embraced the idea of rushing headlong into a sea of cars on a crowded highway as she thought to herself, "hmmm, pre-meditated??? hell yes"...
Slow and painful, because after this whole ordeal, she felt like someone terminal with cancer, but the worst part is, she'll never know when this ends. She will definitely feel it somehow, but @ this point, it's indeterminate. She had been caught in a mousetrap of her own making. This was not how it was supposed to be, but somewhere, she made a wrong turn and got lost, again.
Months ago, she wondered, "hmmm, what's he like, now?", and marveled @ the thought, "does he still feel like some demi-god... a sort of gift to women, of sorts...?" Bitter??? Hell no, although, she did strain her memory a little, trying to recall the bits and pieces of him that she had collected over time and felt a twinge of gloom... She has never really experienced "us", not with him. It had always been him & her, she & he, with the "and" always in between, like a bridge trying to bring 2 worlds together, but never-ever coming close. The saddest part of it all was that, she felt, it had always just been her... But no matter, she would be ready, or so, she thought.
Like theives they walked in the shadows, with him leading on, and her straining to follow. In her mind, she wanted him to ask, she wanted him to be the first to ask, to maybe let him think that he picked her up first... In her mind she silently implored of him, "ask me once, and i'll say yes, damn-it!". Something seemed to spark because what followed next was an extraordinary turn of events and she was back where she started, to another life of about 4 years ago. And she wondered later on, was it the alcohol, or just being there with him that made it seem feasible, @ the time...?
She began to hate Erica Jong, for giving her the idea of the zipless fuck... She smiled, melancholic, and thought, "it would have been nice, though, to have everything without having to feel any guilt." Not one drop of remorse. It was everything she read in the book, the mystery, that hedonistic and depraved feeling of wanting nothing more.
But the experience was not zipless. There were no rose petals falling from the air, no incense or scented candles, not even piped-in music... Instead it was some maze of a cab-ride to nowhere in some cheap motel that charged by the hour and smelled musty and stank of other people's sweat... It was purely a "fuck", nothing more. To him, she probably meant nothing... He was like a drill sergeant giving out commands like, "take off your clothes, do this, do that". Until slowly she felt mechanical, like some coin-operated girl... Except she ran on and on, eager to please, waiting for... sunrise??? sunset??? Whatever, a burst of light of sorts that would signal the end of it...
The experience was not zipless, because it rained with complications, and the feeling of a steady and tragic affliction. It was like having your heart carved out in a million different ways, no one ever thought possible. It was the guilt that points its dirty little finger @ the most vile and impossible thing that she did... And the worst part was not having anyone to talk to about it, because no one will understand. So, she lets the shame chisel bits and pieces of her virtue, until she feels that it, too, is lost. No one has to know, the little hells she went through, while trying to draw out poetry out of the emptiness he carved. And like every episode of frailty in her life, it will come to pass, and then the healing comes. No one has to know the abyss that she has fallen into. No one.
***an attempt @ fiction writing, where the hell are my subjects going??? i don't know... heerap pala... will figure this out, eventually...
***The events, characters and emotions described within this blog are somewhat fictional... Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead or out of the country is purely unfortunate...
Slow and painful, because after this whole ordeal, she felt like someone terminal with cancer, but the worst part is, she'll never know when this ends. She will definitely feel it somehow, but @ this point, it's indeterminate. She had been caught in a mousetrap of her own making. This was not how it was supposed to be, but somewhere, she made a wrong turn and got lost, again.
Months ago, she wondered, "hmmm, what's he like, now?", and marveled @ the thought, "does he still feel like some demi-god... a sort of gift to women, of sorts...?" Bitter??? Hell no, although, she did strain her memory a little, trying to recall the bits and pieces of him that she had collected over time and felt a twinge of gloom... She has never really experienced "us", not with him. It had always been him & her, she & he, with the "and" always in between, like a bridge trying to bring 2 worlds together, but never-ever coming close. The saddest part of it all was that, she felt, it had always just been her... But no matter, she would be ready, or so, she thought.
Like theives they walked in the shadows, with him leading on, and her straining to follow. In her mind, she wanted him to ask, she wanted him to be the first to ask, to maybe let him think that he picked her up first... In her mind she silently implored of him, "ask me once, and i'll say yes, damn-it!". Something seemed to spark because what followed next was an extraordinary turn of events and she was back where she started, to another life of about 4 years ago. And she wondered later on, was it the alcohol, or just being there with him that made it seem feasible, @ the time...?
She began to hate Erica Jong, for giving her the idea of the zipless fuck... She smiled, melancholic, and thought, "it would have been nice, though, to have everything without having to feel any guilt." Not one drop of remorse. It was everything she read in the book, the mystery, that hedonistic and depraved feeling of wanting nothing more.
But the experience was not zipless. There were no rose petals falling from the air, no incense or scented candles, not even piped-in music... Instead it was some maze of a cab-ride to nowhere in some cheap motel that charged by the hour and smelled musty and stank of other people's sweat... It was purely a "fuck", nothing more. To him, she probably meant nothing... He was like a drill sergeant giving out commands like, "take off your clothes, do this, do that". Until slowly she felt mechanical, like some coin-operated girl... Except she ran on and on, eager to please, waiting for... sunrise??? sunset??? Whatever, a burst of light of sorts that would signal the end of it...
The experience was not zipless, because it rained with complications, and the feeling of a steady and tragic affliction. It was like having your heart carved out in a million different ways, no one ever thought possible. It was the guilt that points its dirty little finger @ the most vile and impossible thing that she did... And the worst part was not having anyone to talk to about it, because no one will understand. So, she lets the shame chisel bits and pieces of her virtue, until she feels that it, too, is lost. No one has to know, the little hells she went through, while trying to draw out poetry out of the emptiness he carved. And like every episode of frailty in her life, it will come to pass, and then the healing comes. No one has to know the abyss that she has fallen into. No one.
***an attempt @ fiction writing, where the hell are my subjects going??? i don't know... heerap pala... will figure this out, eventually...
***The events, characters and emotions described within this blog are somewhat fictional... Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead or out of the country is purely unfortunate...
beginning to...
grieve...
When will i start
to believe
again?
Why does it matter
when friends
fall
and falter?
To pitter,
patter
like rain on
the concrete pavement,
fear darkness
of basements,
a hanging,
a death sentence.
She wears black
she wears black.
Everyday,
she wears,
and tears,
rot like pears,
see tupperwares.
Feels like,
shoes run on treadmills
stinking landfills,
losing wills
and wits...
Life is the pits,
he wrote,
she wrote back
him full of mocking
her full of questions.
What happened?
this quilt will not mend
this quilt will not mend
this quilt will not mend.
So she, begins to
grieve.
When will i start
to believe
again?
Why does it matter
when friends
fall
and falter?
To pitter,
patter
like rain on
the concrete pavement...
*** a collage of things that happened some night... it's better not to expect anything @ all, it lessens whatever things...
missing...
2 golden minutes
set with 60 diamond stones
each
last left trickling
like sand on a glass vial
don't bother searching
they will never be recovered
those 2 golden minutes
last felt ticking
when you left.
*** 1994 -- reposting nanaman...
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
...still moving...
...and quite frankly, am dog-gone tired... patience is a vitue, if you have plenty, and i don't think i ever will have much... delayed gratification has never been my thing, and now i'm hooked... 7 days feels like an eternity... a lot has happened in 7 days, but i'm still stuck in 2004... hmmm, well, now-what???
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
don't you just hate moving...???
welcome to the mover's connection... parang naglipat den'ako ng gamet, ah... oh well, whatever, enough said...
*** The events, characters and emotions described within this blog are somewhat fictional... Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead or out of the country is purely unfortunate...
...message from pandora's box
for the longest time i have tried to put it off. i tried to restrain myself and play oblivious of this fact. but then, you are a man, of course, and will always yearn for physical company.
for the love of sanity, i have tried not to ask any question/s pertaining to "her", although i did see you write so many times about it. and th@ day was just so caught up with nothing to say, it finally happened. if i remember (and i probably don't because the last moments have been a blur) it well, my exact words were "what's she like?"
and always, always, always -- curiosity will kill the cat. and in this case, am engulfed in a nightmare of my own doing. after all, i did say the unmentionable and opened a pandora's box of sorts in which i can never escape...
my past has caught up with me and am laughed @ in the face. ok, to dsum it all up, this was how i felt when i read the message, or tried to, because everything has become a blur. and i guess it was my own fault for asking... in whichever case, i'm glad "she" is "wonderful" and so much more happy that you're happy with "her".
it would've been really selfish of me not to say so... and today, i am selfish. because i will never be described as anything more than someone who broke others' hearts, so...
***originally posted: Aug 23, '06 3:33 PM
...message from pandora's box
for the longest time i have tried to put it off. i tried to restrain myself and play oblivious of this fact. but then, you are a man, of course, and will always yearn for physical company.
for the love of sanity, i have tried not to ask any question/s pertaining to "her", although i did see you write so many times about it. and th@ day was just so caught up with nothing to say, it finally happened. if i remember (and i probably don't because the last moments have been a blur) it well, my exact words were "what's she like?"
and always, always, always -- curiosity will kill the cat. and in this case, am engulfed in a nightmare of my own doing. after all, i did say the unmentionable and opened a pandora's box of sorts in which i can never escape...
my past has caught up with me and am laughed @ in the face. ok, to dsum it all up, this was how i felt when i read the message, or tried to, because everything has become a blur. and i guess it was my own fault for asking... in whichever case, i'm glad "she" is "wonderful" and so much more happy that you're happy with "her".
it would've been really selfish of me not to say so... and today, i am selfish. because i will never be described as anything more than someone who broke others' hearts, so...
***originally posted: Aug 23, '06 3:33 PM
...message from pandora's box
for the longest time i have tried to put it off. i tried to restrain myself and play oblivious of this fact. but then, you are a man, of course, and will always yearn for physical company.
for the love of sanity, i have tried not to ask any question/s pertaining to "her", although i did see you write so many times about it. and th@ day was just so caught up with nothing to say, it finally happened. if i remember (and i probably don't because the last moments have been a blur) it well, my exact words were "what's she like?"
and always, always, always -- curiosity will kill the cat. and in this case, am engulfed in a nightmare of my own doing. after all, i did say the unmentionable and opened a pandora's box of sorts in which i can never escape...
my past has caught up with me and am laughed @ in the face. ok, to dsum it all up, this was how i felt when i read the message, or tried to, because everything has become a blur. and i guess it was my own fault for asking... in whichever case, i'm glad "she" is "wonderful" and so much more happy that you're happy with "her".
it would've been really selfish of me not to say so... and today, i am selfish. because i will never be described as anything more than someone who broke others' hearts, so...
***originally posted: Aug 23, '06 3:33 PM
... another day with "him"
am dreading the today... and i hate mondays... always have, always will... my day starts on tuesday, like that abrasive relations song -- "we love tuesday on tuesday"... why? because i will not see "him" again...
this morning, and i swear forgive me for sounding like a drunken - alcoholic housewife, but
when lyzee and i went downstairs for a couple of beer @ tapa king (of course, it's all because of the tokwa't baboy!!! it's always been for the tokwa't baboy...), i had innocently asked ginger if it's ossible to feel the ultimate loathe for someone you don't even know...?
i mean -- poot sia, poot ako -- and we prob'ly don't even know the first letters of each other's first names...! shocking ain't it? could this be the start of something i will totally feel about about for the rest of my life...?
and then i get scared... there are things that i have done in the past and thought had gotten away with... what if "he" was my grim reaper inccarnate... i spent many sleepless (well, almost, barely 4 hours of sleep) afternoon/s because of this... what if... what if... what if... sounds scary, doesn't it???
and i'm probably not making any sense today, i'm with slight anticipation, with a hint of a beer-buzz, has a chance that i over-smoked today, and that is why i have these anxieties... i miss childhood when things were not so complicated, when all the choices you had was to either have the barbie or the cabbage patch doll for your 7th birthday...
and now i'm re-thinking if i'll be able to work and plot/ plan the life-course of my children... i have offspring!!! i am female, pala... i have given birth to a tree that i would have to nurture and care for aside from myself... i am scared... will i pull it off??? will i be ble to pull it off???
and to top it all off... there is still the issue of "him" in the office, and i can't help but dread, mondays... any monday worth mentioning where i keep bumping into "him" and most of all "her"... and they look so perfect together... and i'm wondering, when will i be perfect...???
had i asked for too much? was i really reaping what i had sown...? is this why they keep telling me everything will go back to you threefold?... really can't say, i don't have a clue... i maybe just over-reacting, making mountains out of mole-hills, reading too much between the lines (when actually, the bibliography has been carefully mapped out... huh???)
ah, basta... it's monday... and like all mondays past, i dread... idread... i dread... mondays.
enough said.
***originally posted: Aug 21, '06 5:32 PM
Funny how moods change
...when i read my entry from last night and i see that everything had changed from -- contemplative to melancholic to chipper to crushed... what a night i must've had...
... can't say why i suddenly felt the urge to write a mile a minute --- oh, yeah, stupidity got the best of me, before i even saved my latest, greatest masterpiece, my pc had suddenly surged to refresh mode and deleted the entry... and it was indeed very gut-wrenching, heart-stopping one...
... i dread going to the office today, because, i know that i will definitely see "him" along with "her"... and i don't know why "they" affect me so much... hell, i don't even know their names, or what their freinds who know them call them by... really have no clue, but each time i see his colored hair, my mood passes a series of natural catastrophes as level 3 typhoon, a hurricane and some decibel 4 earthquakes... minor, but really, i feel so -- ugh! i don't know...
... and let's not even talk about his colored hair that goodness tells me doing that came and went with the bandwagon it came from... geezus! i can be so mean sometimes... and i'm not taking this lightly... why??? because my previous post had been stupidly erradicate... no amount of back-tracking can recover... i hate the internet sometimes... :(
... oh, and also, seeing him in the office 3 times a week, just a glimpse takes me back to "him"... and he left me!!! 8 years ago to be exact... and when i see his long-lost brother just brings me back to a time and a musty-smelling and tainted club (called dredd) and i'm in braids wearing very thick mascara, pale lipstick & doc martens and him... we're sharing a glass of adios and used the same straw (i should've lamitaed that darned thing years ago...) but no, i will not stoop to stalker-like level...but i find it really funny how things seemed like a chico-sci or urban dub video then... and i get so affected...
...enough said...
***originally posted: Aug 18, '06 5:54 PM
I missed you today...
i remember some of the things i shouldn't have, couldn't have done as opposed to what i should have or could have done... sorry, i saw superman, the new movie version... and it had some parallelism/s to my life, what happened because of things... things no one should ever have to feel, because they're damaging -- physically, emotionally...
i remember kissing you by the door of the ladies' powder room (was there such a place in club dredd..) and wanting more... i let it stop there though... my death began when your lips touched mine and i will never feel anything as intense... nor feel anything as innocent and real...
i hated you when you left without saying goodbye, and thought i'd moved on... i haven't really... you carved your way into my heart like some stain no amount of reason can ever wash away...
now, i'm not really sure if i love you to reciprocate some guilt feeling/s i have for not admitting what i felt years ago... or maybe i love you now because you are something that i will never have (and man will always yearn for things forbidden and deprived)... i'm not really sure if it is lust manifest as love... or maybe i love you because i have, always, just loved you...
no one ever knew me the way you did... no one... period...
i don't regret things that happened after "us", if there was ever an "us"... i just wish you can move forward without "me" dragging you behind... do you sometimes feel that? i do... i feel like someone's nightmare, made flesh... have you moved on -- without me? i don't mind...
leave me in my misery, because i deserve this... i'm so sorry... this time, i really am...
and joy division's love will tear us apart is playing on my launchcast radio -- what a backdrop to a very melancholic day i am having...
***originally posted: Aug 18, '06 12:26 AM
Circus Studios
i can't believe i said yes... to join y old percussion buddies again... haiii, pressure!!! play the snare, do this, do that... enrique, por favor, i just got here!
and the freaky part about it is, i enjoyed that day... and would consider yesterday as my official -- homecoming!!! i had a chance to play the rocar & the tamborim which had become my favorite instrument over-all... eh, why the tamborim? because it is light, right and you can dance without effort with this instrument... i simply love it!
see inset on the right... look how fun it is! and i missed that... had a beer as well with diane, rose & tusa... missed them as well... gurl-talk...
*** originally posted: Aug 17, '06 11:49 PM for everyone
On 80's Alternative Music
if there is a god online... i would be damned, for internet heresy... grabbing photos, posting irrelevant thoughts without hesitation, and giving unsolicited advice to anyone who would probably come face to face with my blogs... a shame, really... the only way to redeem myself is to focus on one topic @ a time, collect relevant detail/s of my life and post in all honesty...
well, here is one... really!
while listening to elvis costello, i contemplate how 80's alternative music evolved to the 90's... they sound so totally night and day... 80's alternative, though totally appealing sounded so pansy-driven... not to cause any commotion and violent reaction to my previous comment/s but has anyone listened to -- r.e.m., 10,000 maniacs, the pretenders, new order, the smiths & soft cell -- as opposed to green day, 311, red hot chili peppers, or nirvana & soundgarden? get my point?
one of these days, someone with a grudge on their late 30's and early 40's will be running over my sorry ass with their suv's... really! because of these forethought/s, thought/s & afterthought/s...
well, there are other bands that sounded a bit heavy then -- the alarm, the replacements, the cult... they also had that crunchy geetar sounds & used power chords like there's no tomorrow... hmmm... and then you hve the all acoustic punk band -- violent femmes in the 80's... and prose you'll never hear again from robert smith of the cure or echo & the bunnymen the 80's actually sounded, not so bad...
enough said...
well, here is one... really!
while listening to elvis costello, i contemplate how 80's alternative music evolved to the 90's... they sound so totally night and day... 80's alternative, though totally appealing sounded so pansy-driven... not to cause any commotion and violent reaction to my previous comment/s but has anyone listened to -- r.e.m., 10,000 maniacs, the pretenders, new order, the smiths & soft cell -- as opposed to green day, 311, red hot chili peppers, or nirvana & soundgarden? get my point?
one of these days, someone with a grudge on their late 30's and early 40's will be running over my sorry ass with their suv's... really! because of these forethought/s, thought/s & afterthought/s...
well, there are other bands that sounded a bit heavy then -- the alarm, the replacements, the cult... they also had that crunchy geetar sounds & used power chords like there's no tomorrow... hmmm... and then you hve the all acoustic punk band -- violent femmes in the 80's... and prose you'll never hear again from robert smith of the cure or echo & the bunnymen the 80's actually sounded, not so bad...
enough said...
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