So I tried to find a picture of me and I only found
one, I think I threw the rest away, Im not sure why I kept
this one but it shows me in all my alcohol induced
excess, I wish I had a copy of my friend Cheyne in his
shredded undies, it was great, Why did you want a
picture of me anyway, I don't know if ill be
recognizable if you blow it up big enough to put on a
dart board, Oh well its the thought that counts,
right.
I tried to take pictures of my throat but i couldn't
get it to focus, me and technology don't really get
along It's got all these nasty black and white spots
though, I ll try again later. So here it is......
See why I don't keep pictures of myself around, even
my mom hates that picture, then again she hates
everything I do except tour, because then she doesn't
have to deal with me . Just kidding, my mom loves me,
and she doesn't like it when I leave for months at a
time, I'ts funny the truth just sounds so weird, I
always wanted to be a bad boy kind of type, whatever
parents hated that was me, or at least I wanted it to
be me. In high school i went through my Kurt Cobain
phase i grew my hair long wore old smelly cardigans,
didn't shave (still don't like to), People thought I
was deep because I would sit around and write songs
every chance I got, they thought I was mysterious
because I wouldn't let anyone take a picture of me, I
smashed many a camera in those years, cheapies, I knew the value of the real thing, but no one knew were I
would stop so they would sneak pictures of me on the
sly, high school girls are weird, for the most part I
was mean to them but they seemed to flock to it, so
the songs I wrote were really bad (which is why I
wouldn't show them to anyone) and my hand writing was so bad no one could have read it but me anyway, and I'll admit that sometimes even I was stumped at what the hell I was writing. I used to do a lot of writing
at 3 or 4 in the morning when I couldn't sleep and the
most random thought would come out of me, I was always trying to be poetic and intellectual and none sense, I wanted to be tortured, the only torture was making myself read it the next day, horrible awful stuff all pretentious and pathetic. vomit wretch, puke on my
shoes kind of stuff. I tried to write about love but I
had no Idea, I just chewed it up and regurgitated it
back out. Evil awful.
I doubt there was a single coherent thought that
didn't have to do with how much I hated my Parents,
why? I have know Idea, they didn't beat me. Just
threatened it a lot, a lot. I think thats why I hated
them, because I was afraid of them. And there wasn't'
anything I could do about, I always wanted to be the
tough guy who wasn't afraid of anything, but I was a
scared little kid still am in a lot of ways, Oh well.
See the things that this fever is doing to me, I
making out with my computer now.
I'm gonna go before I tell you any more secrets about
me, I have to maintain some level of mystique or
you'll never be interested in me.
see ya,
