<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:57:04.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hmmm</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-112227037046904158</id><published>2005-07-24T22:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-24T22:46:10.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm back baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;just got done cutin' boo's hair, cus um yeah not so much with the extentions anymore. This new dog, baby shark boy, is being a whiny lil mamas pup cause he can't get off the chair. baby shark boy is a light tan color and looks nothing like a shark p.s. and by the way. so there is so much i haven't written but i should start with this supersuckers show a while back at the jungle. I had the best time. The show was a lot of fun and I got a black eye so I felt all tough the next day.Upstairs after the show was the best part.The wives and children of two of the members came to suprise them. After watching them play and shout out at the audience we went upstairs to see caseys dad and they were all up there playin' teaparty with imaginary cups and then we played make believe baseball with the little ones Quatro and Ruby. so there is that story. It would have been better if I had told it sooner but better late than never. At least I hope that's true cause if not I am doomed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-112227037046904158?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112227037046904158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=112227037046904158' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/112227037046904158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/112227037046904158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-back-baby.html' title='i&apos;m back baby'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-109865089637931875</id><published>2004-10-24T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-24T13:48:16.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>smitten kitten</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#ff0000;"&gt;so much in love I am. I know that everyone thinks I'm crazy a select few imparticular, but I can't help but think that if they saw how in love I am with these girls (especially the tall one)they would understand maybe even be happy. I have decided to expand my vocabulary so that I can attempt to convey all the wonderful things I've been feeling to my love with out tainting it with words I've used before. It isn't enough to just say I love you, I mean it is because we understand eachother, but i want to describe it more completely than that. My attempt is not to define it perse, I'd rather not think of it as bounded by words either but she inspires me and it would make me happy if I could come close to reciprocating it with same passion in my words, and how it has surpassed all my experience thus far. So after some lame searching on the web I started searching my old religion notebook and I found a few words to get me started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="article" href="http://www.encyclopedia.com/html/e/eros-god.asp"&gt;Eros&lt;/a&gt; Erosēr´ŏs, ĕr´-, in Greek religion and mythology, god of love. He was the personification of love in all its manifestations, including physical passion at its strongest, tender, romantic love, and playful, sportive love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Te &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;an old Chinese term used by Confucius. It is in relation to virtue and how true virtue carries with it a natural ability to lead. Excellence in performance and how it attracts others around you to achieve that same excellence. Others want to emulate it because they can see the nobility of what your doing. It's a leadership that leads without leading because it's not arbitrary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Moksha &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A Hindu term that refers to the end of samsara or the wheel of rebirth. It refers to oneness and tranquility with Brahman. A complete transcendence of self. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#ff0000;"&gt;So why did I chose these words???? I chose eros because it is the personification of love in all it's forms and i'm looking forward to exploring all of those with her. I chose Te because she has a beautiful virtue that just shines and it makes me want to be a better person. Not because she asks me too or expects me too but because the nature of her being who she is inspires it. Moksha i chose because it's a term of salvation that involves a complete loss of self. I remember when I was first learning about it another student in the class asked "what kind of salvation is that,if your not aware that your being saved?" My teachers response was "well just think about all your happiest moments and what you'll realise is that your at your most happy when you've forgotten yourself." And she does!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-109865089637931875?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/109865089637931875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=109865089637931875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/109865089637931875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/109865089637931875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/10/smitten-kitten.html' title='smitten kitten'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-109827417929798094</id><published>2004-10-20T04:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-20T05:09:39.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bad blogger</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;well i've been a bad blogger and now i feel like a bad person. I feel bad because my choices in the past week have made it impossible for someone i spent the last few months with to have in faith in that what transpired between us was real for me at all. That is causing her a lot of anger. Now i find myself in the unfamiliar territory of being the bastard. I could have done it differently and waited to be with someone else and shown more respect for her feelings.I am just really excited about my someone and i didn't want to take the chance of missing out on them because i didn't grab them when it felt right. I've done that before and i am usually overly concsious of other peoples feelings despite my own wants and desires.It is't that i didn't try or that i don't care but i dont know how to convey that becasue i've systematicly destroyed the image of my character to said indivual.I hope that sometime she me be able to understand what i felt and feel and not hurt over how things are not, which is ironically part of how we got here in the first place. I wish her all the happiness out there and i'm sorry that i couldn't bring it to her or that we couldn't share it and i'm sorry that what makes me feel so good right now makes her feel so bad, i didn't leave her because i found someone, i found someone because i left her.i was to consumed with trying to reach her and feel good myself to make things better when we wre a couple. It just got to a point where inside i felt like things were over and for me to continue would have been a lie. I can't and wont justify what happened next becasue i'm doiong what i feel and while i agree it's in bad form, it really feels beautiful and i would be lying if i said i wish it were some other way................... on a different note,in case your wondering why i'm up at 5 am talking to myself on my computer my roomate had a slight jerry springer ending to her outing at the local strip joint and since i haven't been able to fall back to sleep. So i figured i would get back in my blog because i have been really wanting to sart writing again for a while and haven't made the time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-109827417929798094?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/109827417929798094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=109827417929798094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/109827417929798094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/109827417929798094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/10/bad-blogger.html' title='bad blogger'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-109020838494847684</id><published>2004-07-18T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-18T20:39:44.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>huh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;"&gt;what to do with me.......I was doin' alright after the last breakup. It was really mutual and had just decided to chill for a little while because I felt like the last thing I need in this town is another exgirlfriend and I'm chill by myself, I have a large inner world and whatever....it was cool. Then all of a sudden when I wasn't paying attention someone went snuck in and is now occuping a large part of my mental space. I don't even think they know that they do so? maybe?? I'm not sure?!? I'm really excited about it don't get me wrong they are totally rad-n-stuff. I just don't understand all the mental hubbub about it why can't I just meet cool people and be normal about it.I'm all for being excited but I was kind of excited just being and now it's not the same and I just want to know why that is???&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-109020838494847684?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/109020838494847684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=109020838494847684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/109020838494847684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/109020838494847684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/07/huh.html' title='huh'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108941847916585775</id><published>2004-07-09T17:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-09T20:46:38.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If life were like cable</title><content type='html'>     I was flippin' channels earlier while I was trying to take a nap. I was changing past the scifi channel I started to wonder if life would be easier if it was like cable. I only watched it for like 1/2 a second but what a saw was a girl talking to this guy and she said" I don't know what we have but I don't understand why you have to avoid me?" I thought to myself...well your on the scifi channel you know so he probably turns into an alien or a bug or something and doesn't want you to know incase you see it as a turn off. So imagine how much you could determine about the situations you find yourself in just by knowing what channel you were on. For instance if I had caught that same segment on a daytime melodrama I would have figured the guy she really liked has been replaced by his evil twin brother. Or if they were on the Disney channel it would have meant they probably had some lesson to learn. I wonder what channel I would be on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108941847916585775?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108941847916585775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108941847916585775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108941847916585775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108941847916585775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/07/if-life-were-like-cable.html' title='If life were like cable'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108812184920459214</id><published>2004-06-24T16:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-24T17:08:32.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what the crap is that</title><content type='html'>I was watching a movie today called Pacific Paradise the End of Eden. It was an anthropology flick about different tribes in New guinea. Anyway, the film maker Dr.anthropologist what's his face, made a comment about the fact that it is fascinating to observe these cultures because they represent our last look into &lt;strong&gt;our&lt;/strong&gt; primitive past. What the hell is he talking about. First of all there are over 700 different cultures on that island each with their own language. So I don't know who he thinks &lt;em&gt;our&lt;/em&gt; is even supposed to be. I've studied ancient cultures in different areas in terms of religion, anthropology, and Art and they could not be understood to be at all the same, much less represent one another in a time line sense of evolution. The only way they can really be defined is in terms of difference. If you start talking in terms of likeness "culture" becomes completely homogeneous and it disappears all together. I mean I guess he can do it, but to do so undoes what he is doing, which is studying another culture. Secondly, they aren't part of any ones past. I guess new guinea is kind of far from here so If you are talking about time zones I suppose they may be a little behind. I doubt that is what he meant with the term "primitive". Which I think is pretty laughable. They seemed more advanced to me in a lot of ways. Granted they don't have huge industry or technological abilities but in terms of people they seemed totally on the ball. They have a lot of activities that look similar to the same things we do. Like binge jumping for instance, I watched a ceremony ritual for ensuring a good yam harvest. In it the men build this huge 100 foot tower with platforms on it where male members will tie carefully measured vines to their feet and jump off. A jump is considered successful if their head just brushes the ground. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. The only real difference besides an insurance policy is that we do it for entertainment or excitement and they do it to inspire belief in their desire for a good crop. They also generally seemed more about the tribe then about self. A lot of their adornment, which is also mostly ceremonial affiliated, is  not really related to personal expression or solely aesthetics. It seemed mostly about the tribe past and present. &lt;strong&gt;OKAY I'm done now. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108812184920459214?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108812184920459214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108812184920459214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108812184920459214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108812184920459214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/what-crap-is-that.html' title='what the crap is that'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108780599378272087</id><published>2004-06-21T00:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-21T01:24:37.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>stepford perfection</title><content type='html'>I just got back from seeing the stepford wives thanx to my specialest friend Kelani who got me out of the house. Any one who has to talk to me over the next couple of days should give her a phat hug for saving me from myself. What an interesting movie. It's sort of like a microcosm reflection of perfection as advertised in our gilded age of Victorian suburbia. If you'd like to save your five fifty the only thing they don't tell you in the preview is that it ends up being a woman who started stepford. I still think it was completely worth while. It had some really great characters and gives perspectives into a static concept of perfection and it's interesting to think about why those things are considered desirable in the first place; like who defines perfection or happiness this way. I don't know what my definition is but it wouldn't be doing the waltz with a r/c wife or spending hours trying to figure out which silver suv was hers so I could get the crap out of there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108780599378272087?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108780599378272087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108780599378272087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108780599378272087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108780599378272087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/stepford-perfection.html' title='stepford perfection'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108772700282906253</id><published>2004-06-20T02:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-20T03:29:55.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random stream of consciousness</title><content type='html'>I haven't talked to girl all day. I think it's good to take a little break here and there. It helps to maintain the people you liked in the first place. I thought about her though and I was kinda like pouty face when I got home this evening and realized she hadn't tried to call me either. I miss her words. I had a good day though I helped build stuff that's always fun, and reminds me why I shouldn't live alone. I hit my thumb with the hammer (which not my favorite) the worst part was that I totally watched myself do it. I was just like oops that's going to hurt, and it did but for a second it was kind of like T.V.. Ever have that experience where you are about to do something so stupid you like step out of your body so it's as if it's happening to someone else for a second until it starts to hurt.It's like some higher part of your consciousness refuses to be seen with you. I hate it when that happens. &lt;br /&gt;     I bought funny clown glasses at the dollar store today for my friend but I think I'm going to go get a pair for me as I secretly enjoyed wearing them. They're at least twice as big as my head  and I have to kind of tilt my head up or they slide and I can't breathe.&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108772700282906253?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108772700282906253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108772700282906253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108772700282906253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108772700282906253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/random-stream-of-consciousness.html' title='Random stream of consciousness'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108760099026268313</id><published>2004-06-18T15:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-18T16:27:52.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>-n-stuff</title><content type='html'>I haven't written in a while it's been to nice to be in front of the computer. I woke up feeling kind of frumpy this morning I think I may be getting ready to start or something. So I meditated for a few minutes and went to the gym and then when I got home I listened to mirah for a while and felt a whole lot better. I don't have anything super stimulating to say, which is kind of strange cause I definitely feel like stuff is going on up there but it doesn't have words yet. It feels like I'm distracted but like I haven't told myself with what exactly. I really like this song because the chorus lyrics are "I'd tell you why but I don't know" and for some reason it makes me very happy. It's a very upbeat song and I guess it's refreshing to me to hear someone being at such a blissful place with ambiguity. I've never been all that great with not knowing, I get pretty obsessed with having to understand things. I'm okay that I do that it can be a really good thing it challenges me to understand myself and is also a big part of the reason that I love looking at art so much because I want to understand why I react to it the way I do. At the same time I don't think wanting to know, should be something that frustrates me and I have definitely been frustrated by states of ambiguity.This song helps keep in perspective of when it's good to search, and when it's good be okay with not knowing: It's great to use a boat to get across the water but it's cumbersome to lug around on land. I can feel the a.d.d starting to kick in so I should go do something else and write when I have something to say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108760099026268313?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108760099026268313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108760099026268313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108760099026268313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108760099026268313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/n-stuff.html' title='-n-stuff'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108711800312211969</id><published>2004-06-13T01:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-13T02:13:23.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You no sleep</title><content type='html'>I want to be tired but I'm just not. I can't stop thinking about this girl. I got to talk to her for a few minutes today when she called me from work. It was really sweet, she called to tell me that I was the first thing she thought about when she woke up this morning. I really like her a lot. She is so great to talk too. Last night we had a completely effortless conversation for forty five minutes about socialism.Our conversations are so fun but I don't know if any one else would get it ,we both have this tendency to make random transitions from topic to topic and it's an interesting stream of consciousness. I think she's very intelligent and I love hearing what she has to say. Plus she is amazingly honest and forthcoming about how she feels and I feel like I can talk to her. I have been completely honest with her and it's just nice to know where you stand with somebody and feel like you will actually be able to communicate about it as it changes. I don't have any expectations right now and have been taking it slow with my feelers because people seem strangely allergic to me caring for them and I would really like to put my best foot forward here and try something different. A little break in my regularly scheduled neurosis. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108711800312211969?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108711800312211969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108711800312211969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108711800312211969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108711800312211969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/you-no-sleep.html' title='You no sleep'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108694490670699447</id><published>2004-06-11T02:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-11T02:11:16.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 unrelated</title><content type='html'>First&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;TWITERPAITED!!!!&lt;br /&gt;So sweet and precious...hmmmmmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;second the ovulators totally rocked tonight. I love watching them. So good; good people, good music, great time and Kelani can ride feedback like a wave of beautiful music.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108694490670699447?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108694490670699447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108694490670699447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108694490670699447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108694490670699447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/2-unrelated.html' title='2 unrelated'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108674529616905178</id><published>2004-06-08T18:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-08T18:43:50.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do I always have a favorite song????</title><content type='html'>Why does it always change? I've always accepted it as fact but never knew why it was. I was reading something today about values that gave it sense. Not values in a moral way or ethical way but in terms of quality. Quality of experience. If you break quality down into static good and dynamic good instead of definitive attributes that try to quantify quality,it's like new eyes! It gives you a way to see your prejudices or values instead of define them. It also explains why you can have a perfectly wonderful time in a seemingly undesirable situation; like being stuck in an elevator or a terrible time doing something that seems like a good time by definition; like being at an amusement park. There aren't specific ideals that define quality, it's your concept of quality that define your ideals i.e. what you value. I always have to have a favorite song because it represents the dynamic quality or good that breaks the static good of my regular experience. It gives me a moment. One I can take at my disposal until the song turns into part of my static good and then I have to find a new song. Nothing about the song has changed in terms of its actual attributes, there can be no talk or argument of music theory or artistic standards. It is the same song it always was only my experience of it has changed. If man really is belief expressed like Dr.Quimby said over a hundred years ago, wouldn't be good to understand why they are what they are.   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108674529616905178?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108674529616905178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108674529616905178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108674529616905178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108674529616905178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/why-do-i-always-have-favorite-song.html' title='Why do I always have a favorite song????'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108665124069953036</id><published>2004-06-07T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-07T16:34:00.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"holy random ex-girlfriend at 3 o'clock batman"</title><content type='html'>So I go to bed Saturday night and about two thirty or three the phone rings waking me out of a dream. Before I know what's happening I'm running down the hall to the phone like something is on fire, I hit the button to answer it just as I come to and ask myself why I'm answering, as it's too late. It's my ex and after a small interrogation of what I was doing and whether or not I was alone she asks if she can come over. She says she has something important she wants to tell me, so against my better judgment I told her she could. I had a feeling I already knew what she was going to say as there are only so many things people need to talk about urgently as they leave the bar in the middle of the night. I was right and she came over and told me how much she loves me and wants to be back together. She thinks about me all the time and will never love anyone the way she loves me and she starts to get kind of upset. I feel really bad, but at the same time I don't really have any idea what it is she's really saying. If being with her taught me anything it was that there are multiple definitions of love and ours are extremely different. I tell her I'm really sorry that she is upset and that I don't want to be her girlfriend and that if she misses me and wants to hang out I'm up for that but she continues on about me not being able to trust her and she understands why I can't take her back. She doesn't understand at all. It's not about can't it's about don't want too. The trust issue isn't even about cheating so much as being able to trust her to make good decisions and treat me with some respect. I held her while she cried and told her she should get over me and that she is more attached to the idea of me in my absence than she ever was to me when we were a couple. Seriously I drove her crazy (didn't mean too)we are just different people. So I told her we could hang out on Sunday and maybe it would remind her of how much she really doesn't like me. Sunday she brought me a letter which was really sweet and I'm glad that she seems to have grown from us being together but I feel bad that she is so convinced we belong together  I have tried to explain to her why I would never be with her again but she keeps arguing and the funny part is she doesn't even address the things I talk about at all, we are both talking about the same relationship but you wouldn't know that by listening to us. So I'm just like whatever...I'm not going to be your girlfriend and I'm sorry if your sad or hurting I never wished that for you at all but you aren't going to do yourself any favors by not realizing the real reasons why and it's not because you miss me. I do care but at the same time I can't possibly imagine us being any more than friends but that I mean it when I say I'll be her friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108665124069953036?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108665124069953036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108665124069953036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108665124069953036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108665124069953036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/holy-random-ex-girlfriend-at-3-oclock.html' title='&quot;holy random ex-girlfriend at 3 o&apos;clock batman&quot;'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108651256040888158</id><published>2004-06-06T01:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-06T02:02:40.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's late</title><content type='html'>sitting here rolling cigarettes listening to the good times are killing me by modest mouse...not so much killing me today but I sure did wake up in a world of hurt on friday. see, what had happened was  I had my first softball game on thursday and then went to this party and everyone (well two people really but it's a story) was giving me shots. I don't really drink that much anyway but for some reason it just wasn't hitting me so I just kept pouring them and then I went home at two (safely thanks to traci) just feeling buzzed really....well untill about 9:30 in the morning when I woke up feeling all kinds of not right. So my bad! I totally missed this review I really should have gone too and the worst part is I ended up breaking plans with someone who doesn't know me that well very poorly because why becasue I was hungover still at 7 and we were supposed to hang out at 6. I suck. I still don't know what the hell I was thinking and now I look like a bastard. Dangit.I hate it when I look stupid right off the bat like that but for some reason I seem to lack that part of the brain that allows people to have game.   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108651256040888158?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108651256040888158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108651256040888158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108651256040888158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108651256040888158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/its-late.html' title='it&apos;s late'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108651082116479438</id><published>2004-06-06T01:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-06T01:33:41.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/54/1080/640/DSC02483me.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/54/1080/320/DSC02483me.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hi&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108651082116479438?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108651082116479438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108651082116479438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108651082116479438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108651082116479438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/hi.html' title=''/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7222686.post-108651007259040174</id><published>2004-06-06T01:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-06T02:15:20.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>first time</title><content type='html'>so I've never written on a computer before but I thought I would set this up and see if I have anything worth while to say Like my cool rockstar friend &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7222686-108651007259040174?l=trickysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108651007259040174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7222686&amp;postID=108651007259040174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108651007259040174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7222686/posts/default/108651007259040174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trickysblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/first-time.html' title='first time'/><author><name>tricky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02638507720523032841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
