Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Lost my phone on the Bart. Rather, I left my phone on the Bart. That was two days ago. Today and right now I'm sitting on Tali's floor listening to a CD I made from Omar's music library for Laura and I to enjoy. However, Laura is at work and is not enjoying it with me. I have a smoke and alcohol hang over from last night. Not to mention that stuffy and nauseating feeling you get when you sleep too long. My shoulders are a little tense and my neck is stiff. This is all right now. Present life.

Everything we do, as people, effects the way we think, speak, and live.  I don't want to write like I'm teaching a lesson or writing this out for someone. This feeling of someone "looking over my shoulder" has made it hard to write, think, or do anything without feeling judged. But why should I care? I'm judged every day in every way. Whether it be my girlfriend or my peers. Someone is creating there own summary of my being on a daily basis. I also can create and deal judgement.

With growth comes transition. I'm facing a time of reflection. In everything I do I see two faces. I reflect on this. I feel selfish most of the time and it haunts me. A ghost hanging over my head. I feel guilt. I feel shame. And I turn to the mirrors of life on Earth and reflect, "that's life."

This is what happens when you're alive. You face the foundation of self which you have made and judge every decision you've made, every face you've spoken to, every word you said. This can turn on you or it can work in your favor. However you use it is yours to choose.

I've been living like I'm dead. But there's a difference between dead and dying. Live everyday like there's no tomorrow... Words I could benefit from. Is it wrong to believe that there will be a tomorrow? We could never know for sure. There could be no today. It could be a constant "then." Maybe there is no "now." We live in universes of our own. These universes are influences of other universes bumping into one another each constantly growing outward or shriveling inward. Often one's universe will push and pull to the limits of one's psyche but, our forever expanding and capable minds were designed to overcome such obstacles with a sense of ease. It's not easy being human. It's not easy dealing with other humans either.

Art makes me happy. Music makes me sad. I try to find a balance. Love makes me lust. Lust makes me love. Positive makes me negative and negative makes me positive. What doesn't kill me makes me stronger. We're all actors here playing our part. We are mirrors bouncing off of one another. We are all children still starry eyed and innocent. We are prisoners guilty of original sin. We are advanced machines. So advanced, so curious, and so bored that we have to create little machines to keep us entertained. It's said we only use 10% of our brain. Who knows what the percentage has dropped to now that memory is something built into a microchip. My brain can distinguish shapes, colors, sounds, smells, and textures. This is wrought through an intricate systematic web of sensors called "nerves." These nerves tell me that I'm feeling pain or ecstasy.  These sensors are built into my human skin and are protected. My brain knows the name of hundreds of people know and people I never met. Celebrities, dead historical figures, friends, acquaintances, co-workers, friends of friends. My brain can count, add, subtract, multiply, and divide numbers. My brain can sequence, pattern, and algorithm. My brain is sequence, pattern, and algorithm. The universe is sequence, pattern, and algorithm. Instead of saying that you can't or that you're not good enough say that you can and that you're overqualified. You'll never know until you try. The brain is a tool. A privilege. A gift. The ultimate computer. It only works if you let it work. So much time is spent preventing things from happening that nothing ever happens. Use your brain in ways that you've never thought you could. The thought alone bring new original ideas to mind that only you have control over. This is 100% yours. Unique. No copyright needed. It's yours. Take this. Run with it. Create a colony of people, beings, monsters, that know the true value of the mind and the acrobatics that it combats daily. Beings that can use the brain the manipulate the world around them. Being that are aware of the ultimate tools; brain, body, mind, and hands. With these tools you are naturally equipped to take on any endeavor. All you have to do is apply yourself. Say yes. Say no. Say what ever you want. It's your life, bend it.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Friday, December 24, 2010

Up on the Bus

The caption reads "The Future is Calling.." My first tag on a bus. I did it with chalk to be nice to the hardworking folks on Oaklands public tranportation team.
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couch at the bus stop

I was hoping for a bench, instead i got a couch : D
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Reflect on this
Somewhere out there another
Twice you see your face in the

Life through a window
Curving the street
with your eyes
Brake lights blurring by
streaked like brush strokes in the night.

Reflect on this
what you're searching for
you have become.
everything was backwards
at first.
Now it's all the same.
Different sometimes
through the glass of the window.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Dreamy Clouds

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Happy Holidays Bong

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Red and White at Fuddruckers

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Angry Face

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In A Hole on a stick

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7 and 10

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Highest Custom Blaine

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Sister on the Peer

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No Bikes on the Ocean

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Sunset Over the City

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Fishy Drinks

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Between Wooden Bars

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There sits a man.

fifty cent blow job

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Blue Sky Over Cinema

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Breakfast Man

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Sauce Face

Dont smile
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Sauce Smile

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Saucy Salad Pizza Face

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Cheese Container Eyes

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polor bear head made from coconut

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Open Pack of Batteries

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Fry Guy

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Wednesday, December 1, 2010

causing us to flip and fight
when only silence fills the room.
The smell of candles burning out
our anniversary.
When I ask "which one?"
hopefully she'll smile when I follow with,
"We have so many.."
I think about you when
the moon forgets the to shine.
When I'm lonely 
you brighten up my night.
Tears have gathered under
the roofs of clashing colors.
You called me dreamy eyes.
I'm no poet but, you make me want to write.
You're no musician but, you tell me how to sing.
If we were lovers when
man lived in caves
I'd gather berries and bones for you love.
Would go hunting in the middle of the night
in search of fire to keep you warm.
I'm not expensive, my love don't cost a thing.
The price you pay is that I'm boring.
There's many men on the tail of your coat.
Do they look at you the way I do?
Would you want them to?
Two years gone and I don't know how to touch you
could break me down all over again
But a lover doesn't leave and get angry.
A lover leaves and comes back for more
only stronger.
You hate it when I can't decide
because it's the story of my life
and when I bottle it all up.
But that's just me.
I'm changing with the trees.
New branches to grow new leaves.
Taller and stronger in the winters bloom.
The garden of youth has no more room.
I know exactly what you want
but I'm not her.
No I'm not her.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

I don't know. Maybe you can figure it out. Why I had the dreams of going to a prison broadly labeled Oakland. Maybe you can decipher the hidden message in my drawing. Skulls lingering over mountains. A road leading up to and through those mountains. Clouds looming overhead.  Maybe you'll be the one that reads into the actual meaning. Cause I don't understand a damn thing. Maybe I am trapped here in this arguable paradise. Hotel California. I want to throw my arms. Kick away my legs. Fight everything I see. Push and pull at the same time. I've taken all the eyes off of me. Now what? What happens next. A woman told me once, "no matter how badly we may want something, some things aren't meant to be.." So maybe it's not meant to be. As Colin Frangicetto sings to me, "...wake up, wake up. You're living in a dream." So maybe I've missed the meaning. It seems I've missed everything else. All of the EPIC parties. All of the fantasies and wonders of being young. As Colin sings "...four walls are falling down. Your walls are coming down. And it's not your fault." Have I not been singing about walls? As Colin sings "...I meant a girl named Samantha and she put my brain in a frying pan." Whatever Colin. Just like history repeats itself, I've been completing the patterns and solving the puzzles on my own. I thought I wanted to be alone. I thought I wanted to be a rockstar. I thought I wanted to feel warmth in the belly of winter. I thought wrong again. I thought wrong again. Always wrong again. When is it my time to be right? Twenty-one. Nothing to show.

Only things to gain

Wednesday, May 19, 2010


This is the problem with keeping an online journal. Everyone that wants to read it can. On the other hand there is this level of anticipation. There are some people I would want to read this more than others. Then It starts to feel like someone's looking over your shoulder while you type out your "feelings." Feelings in quotation marks because I don't think online journaling isn't a genuine way of expressing one's emotions. Granted, I've poured some heavy topics into some of my past post's but, I'm starting to get over it. Anything I type is here is either going to a free write or a flavorless summary of how I'm actually feeling, This is why I keep actual paper journals with my actual hand writing. Because here, I am nothing more than a computer screen dishing out the same characters and patterns the human brain recognizes on a daily basis. The internet is false. It's useful but, unromantic. I've been finding myself more and more unhappy with the consequences of using the internet and it's "tools." Tools meaning social networking, blogging, etc... This is, of course, built from my personal experience of internet use. I need to pay attention to something more than myself. But, due to the reflections that dawned on me while watching The Doors movie last night, I feel I could swing in one of either two directions. Either I'm going to start seeing the bigger picture or I'm going to start dwelling deep within myself. Deep as in, finding the real Blaine. Blaine as in, an artist. Whatever that means. I want to dig the music out of my soul and use it to fill the air. The real melody isn't what you hear, it's what you don't hear. Whatever that means. I'm not a philosopher. I'm just a kid that runs his mouth too much. Makes friends disappear. Makes girls not want to talk to me again. Whatever. It's who I am. It'll hurt for a while but, in the end I'll feel something other than whatever I feel on a daily basis. I think I need to get off of this farm.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

I don't know... I guess I just need someone to talk to. I mean really talk to. I have a lot to get off of my chest. So this is my actual first time ever cry out for someone, to someone. Cause i'm too proud to come to you. Whoever you are, I need you the way anybody needs anybody.

Pretty Fucking Awkward

When I was a young, sometime around the age of 4-5, I used to think that every time I left the room my family was having some amazing party. I would start to walk down the hallway and spin around hoping to catch them in the act.

Needless to say, my family wasn't having secret parties behind my back. I don't know why I thought that, I don't think I'll ever understand what put that idea into m head. I was just a kid. I didn't even know what a party was but, I had such a strong visual of what I thought was going on. Music, dancing, bright and colorful metallic party streamers. I could see smiles across everyones faces, joyously dancing and celebrating the fact that I had left the room and was far out of sight. 

I feel that way now except, it's no secret and it's with my friends who I consider to be my closest thing to a family. I've always considered my friends to be the closest thing I've had to a family because I don't feel close to my blood line at all. Twenty-one years and I barely know who my sister is. She doesn't know me at all. Everything is broken in pieces, I can't pick it all up. Just fragments of memories. Shards of hope that can cut and leave scars.

Constantly, I dwell on how to make living easier, how to see a bit more clearly, how to understand, how to be understood. I keep coming back with the same conclusion. "Maybe I'm the problem."

It just seems so much easier when I'm not around. I feel like I'm more trouble than I know. It's feels like once I become comfortable with who I am, I find another reason not to be. 

I have to remind myself that this is real life. This is really happening. The past is like an illusion. It's like a dream. I was child once? What? 

I feel like I've really become a monster. The way I've treated my family and my friends. The true problem lies within me. I'm working it out.. 

I want love. I want true love. Warm, inviting, incomparable love. But I'll just fuck it up like everything else. No wonder my Mother looks at me the way she does. I've had the opportunities to do anything but, I've fought so hard to separate myself. I created this lame person. Fuck me. I just want to forget. I want to grow up all over again. Do it right this time. What is music? What is art? What do I have to do with any of this? I"m fucking tired of going in circles. 

I've written this before. I've said this all before. I've cried these tears. I've burned these pages. Erased the data. But it always comes back. 

I want so much. I want to love again. I want to feel welcome. I want to have a home. I need support. I need structure. I don't have any foundation. I need a something to base my love on. I need an example. I need someone. Something more. I'm hurting so much. I don't want to hurt anymore. I want to feel good. I want to feel wanted. I want to feel loved. Needed. Because I'm feeling pretty fucking awkward.

God, save me.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Everything All the Time

I wouldn't call it a social network. In fact, I'd call it an artificial social networking tool. I'd call it crazy in a box but, that is, only if you have a mobile device that allows you to log in and check up every ten minutes. I'm talking about Facebook. Recently, I've been calling it FaceFuck. I have a Facebook. In the past I've used it frequently. By frequently, I mean I've found myself checking my page 30+ times a day from my phone (or portable computing device) for notifications, messages, friend-request, updates, etc... The amount of hours I've wasted on this site makes me shake my head in embarassment. Frankly, I'm ashamed with myself. Facebook: The mighty outside influence.

How many times a day do you look into the mirror or see a reflection of yourself? Can you pass by a glass window without staring at yourself? I haven't been able to. I've become incredibly vain... I'm soaking in self delusion. I feel that I managed to find an addiction to Facebook. My eyes are ruined because I've spent countless hours starting at the small three by two inch screen on my phone at all hours of the night and day, sometimes only inches from my face. My eyes are strained when I go outside in the daytime, I find it hard to look straight up. I've been forcing my eyes to see clearly at night. I don't think hope is lost for my eyes, I think only that I need to lay off the back-lit screens for a while.

Through personal observation, I've found FB to cause more of a social distortion than a network. Does one really need to know what all of his/her friends are doing all at once? I've felt left out. I've felt unpopular, unloved, and forgotten all because no one commented on my status. Stupid, right? I don't want or need my  current life summed up on a computer screen. I want my friends to ask me about my day, my week, my month, my year. I want to ask you too. I don't want you to read and assume. I want you to know and feel me for me. I want to feel you and know you. It's fake. Unreal. It's a world behind a glass window, in a little box, in the palm of your hand. It's so tempting. It's a woman in a blue dress dancing in disguise. What is she disguising? She's in disguise of cruel intention. You're not on FB because you want to know, you're on FB because you want to see. It's easy access to the personal life of efveryone else. What's more is you can be who ever you want to be!

I'm finding it hard not to be cross. For I feel I ruined the better parts of me by abusing a tool of vanity. I lost heart, mind, and a very important person in my life, all because I let my guard down and became confused. Had FB not been in my life, I think this last year and a half would have been different. It could have been better. But, FB isn't soley to blame. For I have realized that although speak in spite and I curse the name and nature of FB, I made the choices myself. I pushed the buttons. Click to send. I saw what I shouldn't have seen, read what I shouldn't have read, became what I didn't want to become. And now, regret with a lesson learned. Play with fire, you might get burned.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Pent Up

Inside of Jorge's room, in the house that he shares with Julio and Jessica, two dogs, and some fish. I might live here soon. A few weeks ago my mom sent me a text message while I was at work, it read, "I have already spoken to Azhara, you and she have until May first to stay with me."

I should have been mad. I should have burst with anger. I shouldn't hold it in.

Someone said she could see my "inner battles" play out. I highly doubt that she could though.
Or at least, she would never understand what sort of battle is being fought inside of me.

So I called my Dad on my lunch break. Told him that my Mother was kicking me out. I told him that I wanted to come to Kansas. Kick it old school on the farm. He said I could. There's work that needs to be done. Money that needs to be made. Bugs that need to be squashed. Kansan's that need to be Blained. I miss my Dad. I miss the farm...

I still think of you.
Your voice is in the air.
Spring is your song.
I sing alone.
I sing along.
Photo's tell me stories
you're getting by
tying knots on your blouse
not for me.
I miss the dogs and the cats
the way you looked at me sometimes.

I"m just getting stranger and stranger. I have to force connection. Maybe I was just nervous but, when I spoke to you on that amazing and subtle night, on the couch, downstairs, below sleeping heads, I forced myself to listen. You had interesting things to say. Honestly, it was one of the best conversations I've had in a long time. We were without intentions, at least, we were silent about it. We talked movies, food, and music. Then Taco bell. Then the cemetery. Then you drove me home. I spend most of my days quiet. My jaw hurt from all of the chatter. It was a fun sting. Thank you for bringing me something real. I've haven't been here lately. Maybe it's the pain of being a man. Maybe it's the struggle of the artist. Maybe it's the insanity kicking in. Whatever it is, you helped me clear my head of nonsense, worry, and doubt. For a few hours, it was just you, me, and words. Text messages can be so lame. Facebook messages can be so dry. And lets not get started about Myspace... You were there with me. Looking in my eyes, listening to what I said. You were interested. I was there too. My eyes danced over you. You were hair, I was hair. We were words and laughter. You could count my yawn three times over and till this day, I'll still say that I wasn't tired.

Monday, April 12, 2010


I have friends that drink too much. I have friends that smoke too much. I have friends that don't do anything. I want to say something but, I don't know how. Now it's all drama. Now it's tension. Now it's uncomfortable to be around you because you're always drunk. Now it's difficult to work with you because you're always high. Suddenly all of your plans have changed. Suddenly your mind has changed and you've forgotten everything. Now you're angry at everyone. Now you're always depressed. Does alcohol balance the angry? Does weed balance the sad? Fuck. You guys are bringing me down. Youth is about learning how to push and not pull. It's about learning how to be responsible. It's about learning how to be responsible while still having fun. That's called being an adult. Growing up happens. Accept it. There's more to life than screwing with your brain and rearranging your emotions. My brain is screwed up enough. I don't want to worry about you guys. I'd give up my drinking and my smoking if you guys would give me one sober moment. I'm your friend, I'll drink with you, I'll get high with you, we'll have a good time but, I won't let you bring me down.. I'm staying up. Sink or swim boys... Sink or swim.

Friday, April 2, 2010


I can't get around it. Facebook here, Facebook there. Myspace here, Myspace there. Status status. Update update. What's on your mind? What's on his mind? What's on hers? This is spinning out of control. Text messages. Where are you? Why did you text me? Can I come? What's wrong? Are you Ok? Hey how's it going!? What's the deal? What's the word? Spinning out of control. Email frenzy. Pop-up pop-ups. Blocked. Delete. Delete. Scan images. Take pictures with your phone. Make calls from your camera. Video messages. Audio hallucinations. Disabled. Forbidden. Hidden. Instant message. Twitter this, twitter that. Who I'm with. Who are you with? Where you are. Where you've been. Where you're going. I just don't care. I do it though. I'm apart of this chaos. This obsession. Creating vanity. Creating soldiers of misfortune. Creating insecurities. It's not just for high school girls with small tits. This is the time of bulk up boys. This is the day of make up girls. This is the decade of Final Fantasy. Where you get to live your dreams before you live your life. Imagine the child, alone and forgotten. No one know's the pain, the trouble, the wanting. Imagine no one knew what happened to because no one got the Facebook update. Because the message over Twitter never got around. Well now the child is gone. The pictures still exist on the web. Networked. Now people and drop in every couple of months to say that they miss you and all they want to do is hold you and see you again. It's beyond the remote control. It's on the horizons of being real people. We are becoming machine. It's starts in our pockets and ends up on our skin. It's the disbelief that it could ever happen that creates the blind and initiates the blank stare. The know it alls become the know no good. The brainiacs will become plastic. God will be replaced by Google. Food will be replaced by non-nutritive substitutes. Fire will be replaced with heat. Cold with be replaced with conditioners. Love will die. Love will evaporate. Today is sex. Today is who fucked who. Today is I put the one in the other and then did the this after the that. Today is dirty, nasty, filthy for the mind. The twisted desires have made themselves known. I am living in it. I carry the weight with me. I tell the whole world where I am. I have to keep you on your toes. Where will I be next? Keeps you guessing, I guess. Keeps you thinking, I think. Yes, I want a change of pace. I want the people to see the truth of being alive. I want to be the change. I need the world to realize that there is more than drugs, sex, and alcohol. We're dying. Dying because of the absence of love. Love for each other. Love for the the different types of people. Love for the different ideas and cultures. Maybe it's an American thing. Natural beauty is all around us but, I can't unglue my face from my cell phone. And I choose to take it with me? I need to go back to basics because I can't live like this.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010


I'm not that guy. I made you believe I was because... well I'm an idiot. The truth is, I'm not a player. I'm not a heart breaker. I'm not-so normal but, you already know that. I'm tall, strong, and honest. However, I tend to run my mouth a bit too much sometimes (Usually through texts). I can see you've got your thing going on, I'm not gonna be an obstacle. I've been chatting you up for the wrong reasons. I'm not going to apologize, you know that. I will say that before it gets weird, just take a breather and know that I wrote this because I meant it. So, I'll cool off. But only just a little... because it feels good to burn and lately, I'm on fire.

Saturday, March 27, 2010


I've been feeling it lately. The newness. The change. The difference. It's time. It's time for me. I've got to stop wasting time. I've got to stop texting. I'm back in the game. And I feel it. I feel it deep inside. Everything beneath this post is the past. The sadness. The helplessness. No more. This is a new day. This is a new me. Harder than ever. Stronger than before. Louder. Passion. Fire. Intensity. I am of it. So sing me a song. I'll sing you a better one. And believe me, I can... These are sensitive songs. These are sensitive days for me. I'm being pulled and pushed in different directions. But I wade through waters of pain and misfortune. I wade because if I don't the tide will pull me down. It will drown me. I'll swallow the water and fade away. I'll burn out. Fuck that. These days do not belong to them. They are mine. These are not days of reckoning. These are days of promise. Days of hope. Days of fire. God it's strong in me. I feel it. Heavy on my hands. Kiss me. You'll melt.

Monday, March 22, 2010

There's Still More To Be Done

I'll be working Monday through Friday this week. I have 29 hours this week. Friday is pay day. For this, I am excited. As of this moment I'm broke. I just had to buy the headphones, the mic, the cable, and the sunglasses from Target... I spent the day at Omar's house. Made music from about 1pm until 9:30pm. That's a good day. Lately

I've been feeling different. During my my most recent excursion, I felt the something scratching at me. It was like something was saying "Just go... Go far far away. Don't come back for a while." It felt like something trying to pull me away. It felt good. I feel like I'm a good place to be carried away for a long time.. I want to disappear for a while. Just *poof*

I'll come back. Don't worry.

Something is changing, I can feel it.

It feels good.

Just protect me. Keep me safe. I don't want to stray too far away. I still have work to do. I still have books to read. I still have music to write. I still have people to meet. I still have stories to tell. I still have memories to take. So please, protect me from my doubts. Protect me from fear and worry. Protect me from distractions but, keep them bittersweet.  There's still more to be done.

Friday, January 22, 2010


I wrote a song a few weeks ago. Something about a dragon or something or other. I've been avoiding my guitars these last couple of weeks. I'm not sure why I doubt myself sometimes. I've gotta stop getting caught up in the future. I need now right now.  I forgot what I was looking for. And that describes the lost feeling. But, I feel like I've got my head back on track.

Now on to the now....