"From the Depths of Hell, I Stabbath Thee"
Ten bucks if you can tell me where the title of this entry is originally quoted from. Five more if you can tell me what movie also used a variation on the quote to great effectiveness.
Anyway, I use that quote because I just finished the last BIS 111 exam three minutes ago. I couldn't be happier to have completed that class ... it's really the first course I've taken at Lehigh with absolutely no educational merit at all. Everything else, whether regarding economics, engineering, business, etc, has always had some form of learning that I was able to take advantage of while I was there. That even includes overall shitty classes like Management 280 and IBE 098, from which I learned about ISO 9000 Standards and logistics costs, respectively.
Note: BIS 111 is "Business Information Systems." It outlines how technology like computers and the Internet have allowed businesses to communicate and change in the modern world. The majority of the topics it covers, however, include things as basic as the parts of a computer and how data is sent through cables.
BIS 111 in and of itself, even when compared to those crappy classes, is a truly ridiculous experience. Anyone who has ever even looked at a computer and has two ounces of common sense can answer the majority of the test questions accurately. You might argue that the Microsoft Access tutorials are educational- but they are not. A monkey with his thumb in his butt and a cursory knowledge of how to navigate a "Help" menu could have completed the same exercises we did, and probably in the same amount of time. Learning about computer and internet design and structure might have been vaguely interesting, but the topic was presented in such little detail as to have been trivialized beyond any discernable value. Knowing, for example, that "programming" is the actual implementation of a computer system design is really just kinda ... I don't know ... universal? As in you've probably known what "programming" was since you first logged onto AOL 3.0 in 5th grade?
Given how stupid the class itself is, I can't express how happy I am to have taken it online instead of during the schoolyear. Having to sit through actual lectures on what a motherboard is three times a week would have been unbearable. I was luckily given the opportunity to completely skip any and all of the material (while still handing in homework), place reference tabs inside the textbook half an hour before the tests, and then take the tests. Studying hasn't been this easy since microeconomics with O'Brien. Having no homework and a set of cookie-cutter exams, I think I devoted a total of ten hours to that class outside of lecture the whole semester. Plus, there was even the extra bonus of watching business students burst into tears at the mention of partial derivatives. God, those were good times.
I will say this about the content of BIS 111 ... if you know it, you should be able to test out of it and not have to waste your time taking it. If you don't know it, jump on the bandwagon ASAP and figure it out. I'm no technology whiz- my primary computer functionality barely transcends word processing, google searching, e-mailing, and Starcraft- but this is stuff that is only going to become more prevalent and important in the future. That's undoubtedly why Lehigh is teaching it ... they're just doing it poorly.
So here's to the end of BIS 111. You were the ultimate Dead Monkey course, and I spit upon your grave.
Happy Friday.
June 29, 2007
June 27, 2007
Random Access Memory
I love the ability to instantly recall a memory as the result of some sensory input. The most intense memories for me always happen due to sound and smell ... the former more than the latter, typically. Any memory-jogging stimulus can be moving, but certain songs never fail to stop me in my tracks.
The following songs have the distinct ability to cease whatever productive function I might have been performing. I'm sure there are more, but this is what I found on my iPod this morning:
1. The Zone [Dreamscapes in Four Parts with a Door], The Cadets
For obvious reasons I will stop whatever I'm doing if any part of this show comes within my hearing range. Often I'll simply close my eyes and let myself mentally perform the show again. In my memories, though, there's never any pain or injury or exhaustion ... just the Holy Name. It's glorious.
2. Dancer, Bjork
This song comes on and I see a sunrise, a morning, or a new day. There's such a simple elegance and sense of hope to it that I can't help but feel moved each time it's played. Recently it's also become the song my alarm clock plays in the morning.
3. Till There Was You, Empire Brass
It's a great ballad anyway, but the Empire Brass made it into a trombone solo.
4. Sun and Moon, Miss Saigon
I began marching with the CHS band in 2000, the year that the band played the music of Miss Saigon. Although we never fared very well competitively, that season will always be one of the favorite Falls of my life. I mention this song in particular because it was arguably the most effective part of the show ... the first half was played backfield, eventually leading to the climax as the two halves of the band merged together, turned forward, and kneeled as one. My Mom said that at Finals that moment made her cry.
5. Reve Rouge, Cirque De Soleil
The only saxophone solo I have ever loved, let alone could stand for more than 6 seconds.
6. 23 Degrees North, 82 Degrees West, Stan Kenton
This song has one of the most badass trombone features that has ever been written for big band jazz. It also has the late Maynard Ferguson in his prime, squealing unnecessarily high for unnecessarily long periods of time. The 2004 CHS jazz band certainly didn't do it justice, but at Finals I hit the Db in the solo and man was it fun to play.
7. Touch Me, Spring Awakening
To me this song is the closest anyone has ever come to musically representing the sensation of sharing your heart, mind, and body with another. If you haven't heard it or the show itself, do so immediately.
8. Batman, Danny Elfman
I love the Dark Knight.
9. For Good, Wicked
This song actually spurns up a couple of ideas whenever I hear it, many of them very sad. The first is what's going to happen a year from now, at college graduation ... I'm realizing more and more that there are many friends I will miss very dearly upon our departure from Old South Mountain. It's a day I'm looking forward to as a triumph but also dreading for what it will truly mean. New beginnings can be so tough, although I think this time we're all more ready than we were for the last few.
The other, more macabre notion I think of when this song plays is the loss of the older members of my family in the decades to come. I know I shouldn't be thinking of that, but my grandparents don't live the healthiest lifestyle and are gradually becoming more and more stereotypically "old." The verse that gets me is the one Elphaba sings alone ... "you'll be with me like a handprint on my heart."
10. Danny Boy, Irish Tune
I've mentioned this one before. The performance went very well, at least for me.
Happy Wednesday ... and listen to something that moves you today, if you can. It's always worth it.
I love the ability to instantly recall a memory as the result of some sensory input. The most intense memories for me always happen due to sound and smell ... the former more than the latter, typically. Any memory-jogging stimulus can be moving, but certain songs never fail to stop me in my tracks.
The following songs have the distinct ability to cease whatever productive function I might have been performing. I'm sure there are more, but this is what I found on my iPod this morning:
1. The Zone [Dreamscapes in Four Parts with a Door], The Cadets
For obvious reasons I will stop whatever I'm doing if any part of this show comes within my hearing range. Often I'll simply close my eyes and let myself mentally perform the show again. In my memories, though, there's never any pain or injury or exhaustion ... just the Holy Name. It's glorious.
2. Dancer, Bjork
This song comes on and I see a sunrise, a morning, or a new day. There's such a simple elegance and sense of hope to it that I can't help but feel moved each time it's played. Recently it's also become the song my alarm clock plays in the morning.
3. Till There Was You, Empire Brass
It's a great ballad anyway, but the Empire Brass made it into a trombone solo.
4. Sun and Moon, Miss Saigon
I began marching with the CHS band in 2000, the year that the band played the music of Miss Saigon. Although we never fared very well competitively, that season will always be one of the favorite Falls of my life. I mention this song in particular because it was arguably the most effective part of the show ... the first half was played backfield, eventually leading to the climax as the two halves of the band merged together, turned forward, and kneeled as one. My Mom said that at Finals that moment made her cry.
5. Reve Rouge, Cirque De Soleil
The only saxophone solo I have ever loved, let alone could stand for more than 6 seconds.
6. 23 Degrees North, 82 Degrees West, Stan Kenton
This song has one of the most badass trombone features that has ever been written for big band jazz. It also has the late Maynard Ferguson in his prime, squealing unnecessarily high for unnecessarily long periods of time. The 2004 CHS jazz band certainly didn't do it justice, but at Finals I hit the Db in the solo and man was it fun to play.
7. Touch Me, Spring Awakening
To me this song is the closest anyone has ever come to musically representing the sensation of sharing your heart, mind, and body with another. If you haven't heard it or the show itself, do so immediately.
8. Batman, Danny Elfman
I love the Dark Knight.
9. For Good, Wicked
This song actually spurns up a couple of ideas whenever I hear it, many of them very sad. The first is what's going to happen a year from now, at college graduation ... I'm realizing more and more that there are many friends I will miss very dearly upon our departure from Old South Mountain. It's a day I'm looking forward to as a triumph but also dreading for what it will truly mean. New beginnings can be so tough, although I think this time we're all more ready than we were for the last few.
The other, more macabre notion I think of when this song plays is the loss of the older members of my family in the decades to come. I know I shouldn't be thinking of that, but my grandparents don't live the healthiest lifestyle and are gradually becoming more and more stereotypically "old." The verse that gets me is the one Elphaba sings alone ... "you'll be with me like a handprint on my heart."
10. Danny Boy, Irish Tune
I've mentioned this one before. The performance went very well, at least for me.
Happy Wednesday ... and listen to something that moves you today, if you can. It's always worth it.
June 22, 2007
All'alba Vincero
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k08yxu57NA
I love that song. I'm not at all well versed in opera or even Turandot itself, but there's just something about the passion with which Nessum Dorma must be sung. It's a proclamation ... a definitive decree that The Prince won't have just the hand of Turandot, but her love as well. The last line (the one repeated three times), if it's sung the way Paul Potts does it, never fails to bring tears to my eyes.
Beautiful.
I had a feeling I'd heard this song on the drum corps field, as well, and sure enough I had. The link below is Nessun Dorma played by the 1991 Phantom Regiment. It's not exactly the best move from stage to turf (certainly not as effective as the Regiment was in their transposition of Ave Maria last summer), but the shear power of the melody is still there.
http://www.regiment.org/sounds.cfm
So there's a bit of culture on this wonderful Friday morning. Cheers.
Italian
"Nessun dorma, nessun dorma ...
Tu pure, o Principessa,
Nella tua fredda stanza,
Guardi le stelle
Che tremano d'amore
E di speranza.
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,
Il nome mio nessun saprà, no, no,
Sulla tua bocca lo dirò
Quando la luce splenderà,
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio
Che ti fa mia.
Dilegua, o notte!
Tramontate, stelle!
All'alba vincerò!"
English
"No one sleeps, no one sleeps...
Even you, o Princess,
In your cold room,
Watch the stars,
That tremble with love
And with hope.
But my secret is hidden within me;
My name no one shall know, no, no,
On your mouth I will speak it
When the light shines,
And my kiss will dissolve the silence
That makes you mine.
Vanish, o night!
Set, stars!
At daybreak, I shall conquer!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k08yxu57NA
I love that song. I'm not at all well versed in opera or even Turandot itself, but there's just something about the passion with which Nessum Dorma must be sung. It's a proclamation ... a definitive decree that The Prince won't have just the hand of Turandot, but her love as well. The last line (the one repeated three times), if it's sung the way Paul Potts does it, never fails to bring tears to my eyes.
Beautiful.
I had a feeling I'd heard this song on the drum corps field, as well, and sure enough I had. The link below is Nessun Dorma played by the 1991 Phantom Regiment. It's not exactly the best move from stage to turf (certainly not as effective as the Regiment was in their transposition of Ave Maria last summer), but the shear power of the melody is still there.
http://www.regiment.org/sounds.cfm
So there's a bit of culture on this wonderful Friday morning. Cheers.
Italian
"Nessun dorma, nessun dorma ...
Tu pure, o Principessa,
Nella tua fredda stanza,
Guardi le stelle
Che tremano d'amore
E di speranza.
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,
Il nome mio nessun saprà, no, no,
Sulla tua bocca lo dirò
Quando la luce splenderà,
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio
Che ti fa mia.
Dilegua, o notte!
Tramontate, stelle!
All'alba vincerò!"
English
"No one sleeps, no one sleeps...
Even you, o Princess,
In your cold room,
Watch the stars,
That tremble with love
And with hope.
But my secret is hidden within me;
My name no one shall know, no, no,
On your mouth I will speak it
When the light shines,
And my kiss will dissolve the silence
That makes you mine.
Vanish, o night!
Set, stars!
At daybreak, I shall conquer!"
June 11, 2007
Easy to Explain
I finally figured out something that's been confusing me for a while. In high school I never had trouble with it, nor during my first year of college. But since then, long about the time I got back from the Cadets, there's just something about practicing where I don't get as much out of it anymore. For jazz band and state try-outs, I would practice an hour or two every night on top of rehearsals and lessons during school. Going into my audition for Gino, I practiced the same amount at Zoellner and recorded everything I did for almost six months. There was just something about practicing that validated my day and made me feel productive. It would calm me down, focus my thoughts, and reinforce something that had brought me so much joy in my youth.
Nowadays, practicing is a chore. I'm lucky if I get there once or twice a week this summer, let alone the 4-5 days I should optimally be doing to preserve and reconstruct my chops. For a while I thought the problem was lack of new music, lack of improvement, lack of instruction, or simply being tired from doing other things. Fortunately, I think I finally figured it out.
In high school, band and music were my thing. All my best friends were in band, I idolized our directors, and I was completely accepted there. Practicing was something I did to develop myself in that place where I felt so at home. I did it to prove that I belonged there and could play alongside those I cared about. To let them know that I would never fail them when the time came ... that they could count on me to be their harmony. Their background. Or just the middle tenor voice in a sound that was all our own. I wanted to make my teachers proud and play with my very dear friends. I did it for myself too, of course, but looking back now the dependency to my friends is so clear. That group was really the first true group of friends I had that was close-knit, consistent, and trusting ... and music was the key that had unlocked that door and made it possible.
In college music took on a different feel. I met new friends in various organizations, some of whom have become very good friends in the years since then, but for the most part no one really knew me. My practicing during freshman year wasn't about my friends anymore, but two other different and very distinct concepts. The first was identity- music had been such a defining factor in my life that, surrounded by the Lehigh environment and my own insecurity, I clung to it all the more tightly that first year. This is among the reasons why I (and most people, I think) attach themselves all the more tightly to that which they take with them when they move. We'll all do the same thing in a year or two after graduating college, in all likelihood.
The second part of my music dependency freshman year was something along the lines of zealotry. That year was the first, last, and only shot I had at participating in my life's dream ... and God knows I do the most damage when I'm pursuing something with that kind of devotion. I practiced out of hope and fear so that I could stand there and say to the world "I am a Cadet," pure and simple.
But since then, there's been nothing to rehearse for, no instructors to practice for, and no jazz band to rock out festivals every Friday night in the Spring. And as sad as I am to admit it, playing music is a significantly smaller part of my life now. Listening to music and seeing it live will never stop being intrinsic aspects of my existence, but why do I still play it? That's the answer to my original question, and why practicing is so hard now.
I play music now because the most basic parts of performing are still so incredibly beautiful to me. The sound that you make when a chord just perfectly locks in. The balance that you try to achieve. The notion of playing beside a good friend or a bunch of good friends, and knowing that you have that connection because of music. The intensity of a song that's loud and fast, and technically difficult to the point of impossibility. I think the problem with all those is that, unlike before when validation came in the form of individual self-confidence and pride, validation now comes solely from the act of actually playing with people. Playing alone doesn't give me the same satisfaction as it used to ... but playing with an ensemble still does. Music binds and interlinks the people performing it in ways that even they can't understand, but for the most part it's suffice to say that the connection is always there.
I will always love Team JB and the late nights we shared driving around in the Buick, or the endless amount of time spent in Starbucks, or every day when I walked into the band room and knew that my friends were going to be there. I will always cherish the scent of cut grass, the feel of an evening summer breeze, and the sight of the orange sky as the sun sets ... because they take me back to a time that will forever be one of the greatest of my life. But now I'm beginning to realize that the role music has in my life is different- and that's okay.
Here's to growing up ... and maybe not feeling so bad about missing out on practicing for the last two weeks. Whoops.
I finally figured out something that's been confusing me for a while. In high school I never had trouble with it, nor during my first year of college. But since then, long about the time I got back from the Cadets, there's just something about practicing where I don't get as much out of it anymore. For jazz band and state try-outs, I would practice an hour or two every night on top of rehearsals and lessons during school. Going into my audition for Gino, I practiced the same amount at Zoellner and recorded everything I did for almost six months. There was just something about practicing that validated my day and made me feel productive. It would calm me down, focus my thoughts, and reinforce something that had brought me so much joy in my youth.
Nowadays, practicing is a chore. I'm lucky if I get there once or twice a week this summer, let alone the 4-5 days I should optimally be doing to preserve and reconstruct my chops. For a while I thought the problem was lack of new music, lack of improvement, lack of instruction, or simply being tired from doing other things. Fortunately, I think I finally figured it out.
In high school, band and music were my thing. All my best friends were in band, I idolized our directors, and I was completely accepted there. Practicing was something I did to develop myself in that place where I felt so at home. I did it to prove that I belonged there and could play alongside those I cared about. To let them know that I would never fail them when the time came ... that they could count on me to be their harmony. Their background. Or just the middle tenor voice in a sound that was all our own. I wanted to make my teachers proud and play with my very dear friends. I did it for myself too, of course, but looking back now the dependency to my friends is so clear. That group was really the first true group of friends I had that was close-knit, consistent, and trusting ... and music was the key that had unlocked that door and made it possible.
In college music took on a different feel. I met new friends in various organizations, some of whom have become very good friends in the years since then, but for the most part no one really knew me. My practicing during freshman year wasn't about my friends anymore, but two other different and very distinct concepts. The first was identity- music had been such a defining factor in my life that, surrounded by the Lehigh environment and my own insecurity, I clung to it all the more tightly that first year. This is among the reasons why I (and most people, I think) attach themselves all the more tightly to that which they take with them when they move. We'll all do the same thing in a year or two after graduating college, in all likelihood.
The second part of my music dependency freshman year was something along the lines of zealotry. That year was the first, last, and only shot I had at participating in my life's dream ... and God knows I do the most damage when I'm pursuing something with that kind of devotion. I practiced out of hope and fear so that I could stand there and say to the world "I am a Cadet," pure and simple.
But since then, there's been nothing to rehearse for, no instructors to practice for, and no jazz band to rock out festivals every Friday night in the Spring. And as sad as I am to admit it, playing music is a significantly smaller part of my life now. Listening to music and seeing it live will never stop being intrinsic aspects of my existence, but why do I still play it? That's the answer to my original question, and why practicing is so hard now.
I play music now because the most basic parts of performing are still so incredibly beautiful to me. The sound that you make when a chord just perfectly locks in. The balance that you try to achieve. The notion of playing beside a good friend or a bunch of good friends, and knowing that you have that connection because of music. The intensity of a song that's loud and fast, and technically difficult to the point of impossibility. I think the problem with all those is that, unlike before when validation came in the form of individual self-confidence and pride, validation now comes solely from the act of actually playing with people. Playing alone doesn't give me the same satisfaction as it used to ... but playing with an ensemble still does. Music binds and interlinks the people performing it in ways that even they can't understand, but for the most part it's suffice to say that the connection is always there.
I will always love Team JB and the late nights we shared driving around in the Buick, or the endless amount of time spent in Starbucks, or every day when I walked into the band room and knew that my friends were going to be there. I will always cherish the scent of cut grass, the feel of an evening summer breeze, and the sight of the orange sky as the sun sets ... because they take me back to a time that will forever be one of the greatest of my life. But now I'm beginning to realize that the role music has in my life is different- and that's okay.
Here's to growing up ... and maybe not feeling so bad about missing out on practicing for the last two weeks. Whoops.
June 07, 2007
This Idea is Tough to Remember
Good morning. You've got a choice today. You've got a thousand choices today. Most don't matter, and you'll forget them in five minutes. Radio talk show or music in the car. Soda or water for lunch. Vendor A or Vendor B. Call home during lunch or wait till the afternoon. Use the bathroom now or wait 15 minutes. Go to class or don't go to class. Call a friend or have a night alone. Get your work done perfectly or do something else. Like I said, most don't matter, and you'll forget them in five minutes.
But once in a while, one of them is going to change your life. You might know it, you might not. Picking a pizza topping doesn't matter. Picking a college does. Holding a day meeting presentation at 8 AM doesn't matter. Auditioning for a seat in the London Philharmonic does. Skipping lab might not matter ... but going to lab might mean walking into the woman you marry. Would you have met her if you stayed in bed? Who knows. Chance can't be underestimated, after all.
That's the deal, then. Some choices you know matter. Is everything else chance? Could be. Might not be. Do everything right all the time and you could get hit by a car. Do everything wrong all the time and you could win the lottery. Parity is not requisite for living, but you knew that.
What about others? The people around you? They're why you got up today, didn't you? You wanted to laugh with them, talk to them, cry with them, hold them, yell at them, be angry with them, fall in love with them, be loved by them, support them, listen to them, fight for them, fight with them, forget them, remember them, be ignored by them, and just sit next to them in the car for a second before the light changes. That guy singing in the Honda ... who knows what his deal is, but he made your day during the traffic jam on 22, didn't he? Man, did he suck. But oh, did he sing with passion. Stranger or friend, enemy or parent, those people are why you got up today. And whoever they are, they're expecting something of you. Your mom wants you to be happy, be successful, be you. The guy across the hall wants your project to fail so his funding will increase. Your teacher wants you to learn- either because she wants to save her own job or because she thinks you might be something someday. The guy at the deli just wants you to order faster so he can go the hell home. Bottom line ... you've got to deliver something every day.
So what are you going to do? You're going to go in there with everything you've got. Guns blazing. Light the place up and leave nothing behind when you're done. And if that's not enough for them ... for whomever you're pouring yourself out to ... well then that's okay. It won't always work out. You might ruin the day of that guy at the deli. You might fail a test. You might be told that a relationship is over. And God knows it might hurt. Hell, it might hurt a lot. Rejection does. But above all, that's okay. Because in the end, you'll have no regrets. If you go out there, really put yourself out there and be nothing but yourself, every day, in everything you do ... then you've done all anyone can ever do. When things succeed, that's just phenomenal, isn't it? You could fly when things do that. But if it doesn't ... that's when you go find some friends, they pick you up, and tomorrow morning the sun rises again. The most important thing is that you keep going and never stop going, and who knows ... the next thing you know you might just find what you're looking for. If you even know what that is.
And if you don't find what you're looking for, I'll bet you're okay with it. I'll bet all that I have on it ... because if I choose to live this way, like you, I don't have a choice. I have to believe that you, and I, and everyone will all be okay with it.
After all- we lived, didn't we?
Damn right we did.
Good morning. You've got a choice today. You've got a thousand choices today. Most don't matter, and you'll forget them in five minutes. Radio talk show or music in the car. Soda or water for lunch. Vendor A or Vendor B. Call home during lunch or wait till the afternoon. Use the bathroom now or wait 15 minutes. Go to class or don't go to class. Call a friend or have a night alone. Get your work done perfectly or do something else. Like I said, most don't matter, and you'll forget them in five minutes.
But once in a while, one of them is going to change your life. You might know it, you might not. Picking a pizza topping doesn't matter. Picking a college does. Holding a day meeting presentation at 8 AM doesn't matter. Auditioning for a seat in the London Philharmonic does. Skipping lab might not matter ... but going to lab might mean walking into the woman you marry. Would you have met her if you stayed in bed? Who knows. Chance can't be underestimated, after all.
That's the deal, then. Some choices you know matter. Is everything else chance? Could be. Might not be. Do everything right all the time and you could get hit by a car. Do everything wrong all the time and you could win the lottery. Parity is not requisite for living, but you knew that.
What about others? The people around you? They're why you got up today, didn't you? You wanted to laugh with them, talk to them, cry with them, hold them, yell at them, be angry with them, fall in love with them, be loved by them, support them, listen to them, fight for them, fight with them, forget them, remember them, be ignored by them, and just sit next to them in the car for a second before the light changes. That guy singing in the Honda ... who knows what his deal is, but he made your day during the traffic jam on 22, didn't he? Man, did he suck. But oh, did he sing with passion. Stranger or friend, enemy or parent, those people are why you got up today. And whoever they are, they're expecting something of you. Your mom wants you to be happy, be successful, be you. The guy across the hall wants your project to fail so his funding will increase. Your teacher wants you to learn- either because she wants to save her own job or because she thinks you might be something someday. The guy at the deli just wants you to order faster so he can go the hell home. Bottom line ... you've got to deliver something every day.
So what are you going to do? You're going to go in there with everything you've got. Guns blazing. Light the place up and leave nothing behind when you're done. And if that's not enough for them ... for whomever you're pouring yourself out to ... well then that's okay. It won't always work out. You might ruin the day of that guy at the deli. You might fail a test. You might be told that a relationship is over. And God knows it might hurt. Hell, it might hurt a lot. Rejection does. But above all, that's okay. Because in the end, you'll have no regrets. If you go out there, really put yourself out there and be nothing but yourself, every day, in everything you do ... then you've done all anyone can ever do. When things succeed, that's just phenomenal, isn't it? You could fly when things do that. But if it doesn't ... that's when you go find some friends, they pick you up, and tomorrow morning the sun rises again. The most important thing is that you keep going and never stop going, and who knows ... the next thing you know you might just find what you're looking for. If you even know what that is.
And if you don't find what you're looking for, I'll bet you're okay with it. I'll bet all that I have on it ... because if I choose to live this way, like you, I don't have a choice. I have to believe that you, and I, and everyone will all be okay with it.
After all- we lived, didn't we?
Damn right we did.
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