Isaac’s World is Best

I am starting school again soon with 18 whole credits.  Can you say singable sorrow?  I can’t, because that would take away from my readable homeworkinessocity.  Nose to the grindstone.  Face to the cement.  Broken head region.  It will be glorious.

Yeah, the desire to have less hair continued so no more beard and no more long hair.  I am now a short-haired beauty.  Or not.

‘Tis I, the now beardless wonder.  Or more like, the clean shaven very boring ordinary human.  I was this close to beard cuttering my head too.

I now have a cumulative gpa of 3.739. Who’s gonna stop me now? Oh, that’s right, nobody. Get on the ground and lick my toes!

soy yogurt in hand
the damn communicator
goes off on the desk

peeking out of shells
cradled in the midst of sky
fearlessly alone

unfolding a smile
discrete in an envelope
unbidden tears come

This month’s new music: The Format(bro: you’d like it), more The World/Inferno Friendship Society, Tom Taylor, Aesop Rock, and the peaches song by The Presidents of the United States of America. I had an eargasm listening.

I checked out the albums by Radiohead and the Trent Reznor-produced hiphop artist Saul Williams. They both are available for free to download or you can pay some nominal amount to help support them if you like the music alot. I went the trying it out for free option and I probably will go back and throw some money their way. Saul Williams is now classified as hiphop that I can stand and Radiohead is pretty alright. The main thing is I want to support them in this effort so that other artists will throw off the shackles of the RIAA and the major labels.

this is not what I was meant for
forty minutes staring at the door
singing in my head of all the things
I haven’t read or written
the girls all around stare smitten
with numbers spilled upon the wall
like wine dancing all across the floor
when fighting turns to splintered doors
everyone is leaving when the song
finishes its beating but the
hollow in their heads is jumbled
by the drunken numbers stumbling
carousing with the theories
cavorting with the mysteries
and masticating histories, swallowed up like luxuries
Bursting out of ruptured ears
my dedication leaving me
this pen ends the beat of simple thought
landing me on my two feet and stops.