InsaneJournal

Oh, I finally did this right.
Sometimes I wonder why you look at me with a smile, and sometimes I ignore you. However, I usually know exactly why you're smiling at me and I laugh at you because you are a raging idiot. And so am I.

You wonder why I write so much? I write what some people call "beautiful poems" and what some people call "horrible stoner trash", but I couldn't read until I was 22. Absolute truth. I am dyslexic.

When I was about 22 (it's been awhile), my vices were screaming and smoking pot. I don't scream anymore (usually). I still smoke pot.

Oh, my thoughts are so fragmented from the wreck of the day. I make mean faces at people who make me mad just because it feels so good to be in a social occupation, and at the same time, make people feel disdain at your presence. I also hug fat girls on a regular basis. I deserve a medal, man!

I remember when I was still in Saosin. That band blew. Really blew. So, I quit after suffering through the unending pain of wisdom teeth removal. I just couldn't take it anymore.

I then joined Circa Survive, and I was happy to make transcendental music about tragically hip movies and absolutely nothing whatsoever. I was also happy to sing without screaming. I was very happy to gain some credibility. I was not happy to open for My Chemical Romance, but they turned out to be some nice guys to go around with. Think of the chicks!

I waste time with The Sound of Animals Fighting as well, but that's mostly so I can get high and dance. And squirt water at Craig Owens. Whoa, that guy is a bitch. No kidding. It's all about his hair, you know?

I did High and Driving too. That's just me and Tim Arnold, ex-Days Away drummer. That man is so cool. I would wish I was Tim, but he's uglier than me. I do everything except drums. You have no idea how much street cred that gets you with ugly hipsters. Even if "everything except drums" is just your voice and a guitar. An acoustic guitar.

And how did I forget my involvement in Zolof the Rock and Roll Destroyer? My good god, that was one mistake I'll try to forget as much as possible.

Audience of One... we never did break up, did we? Man, I forget a lot these days. I'll get back to that later.

Time takes its toll on us, this changes everything. After all, I'm 25 or 26 and I still forget stuff that didn't happen all that long ago.

Well, now I'm working on my solo effort, and girls will hang all over me... pretty sure. My hair gets them every time. My smile does too. I could compare some unfortunate groupie to a drug dealer in an acoustic song, and it could suck pretty bad, but girls would still want me. If there was a day that a girl I wanted loved that ho Craig Owens more than me, I'd die. Pretty sure of that too. So it goes.

Now that I have detailed most of the important section of my so-called life (bad reference, I know), I can tell you that some people call me The Skunk. This did not derive from the rumor that I smell like turdmuffin, perpetuated by Craig Owens himself (how lovely), but it's my pseudonym for The Sound of Animals Fighting. And girls do love it. They ask me to spray them. I take it how I want to.

I am sitting in the communal Circa Survive apartment writing this for you even though I might leave this building pretty quick, but I need coffee and dope. I know where to get some. So I go. (Do you like my Vonnegut references? They're there for no reason, trust me.)

There's this totally rad coffee shop. It's called Starbucks. It would suck really bad, but one of the baristas hooks me up for cheap because I'm Anthony Green. Free coffee and $2 joints. Just for being a stoner rocker! It's a nice occupation.

...

I went there and got some. Now I'm back. Be ready for me, because I'm coming out.

I never did tell you about Audience of One, did I? Forget it, man!