Fallen Thoughts

Fallen Thoughts

[ an overflowing mind resigns to words on a page ]
[ welcome to Fallen Thoughts :: home | contact ]
[-life-]
athens
happenings
music
myspace
40 watt
[-links-]
exploding dog
mary ellen mckee
noah grey
pollstar
wikipedia
[-listens-]
ben harper
bob dylan
bob marley
don chambers
drive-by truckers
iron & wine
mother jackson
my morning jacket
neil young
radiohead
southern bitch
wilco
[-logs-]
alethea
alissa
amanda
andi
asha
bobo
chad
daisey
esther
heather
james
jenks
john
josh
lani
lauren
mays
ron
.sara
shep
tiff
[-archive-]

:: 9.28.2002 ::

I would love fries with that.

and to think, when I went to Mill Valley, I stopped by the In-N-Out and ordered a "milkshake". and what did they give me? a milkshake. weak. sauce. next time it's KFC or nothing at all.


:: posted by Michael at 7:31 AM (0) comments [+] ::

[===]
"Berkeley is like a tiny San Francisco on crack."

no wonder all the Cali-locals told me I was an idiot when I said I really liked the place. I thought they were just jealous..

courtesy: the queen of berkeley.


:: posted by Michael at 5:04 AM (0) comments [+] ::

[===]
:: 9.27.2002 ::
healthy forests celebration poster

if you are in or around the Seattle area, it'd be worth your time to drop by and check this out. not only do you get to see some great music for free, but you'll also be helping to support the rally against Bush's bullshit logging plan. "healthy forests initiative". right, Dubya.


:: posted by Michael at 1:39 AM (0) comments [+] ::

[===]
:: 9.23.2002 ::
I finally gave my two step intros site a long-needed renovation. I've added lots of new intros, with a gracious amount of help from smitty's site. it's now much more easy to navigate the site and find the intro that you may be in search of. everyone stop by and check it out and let me know what you think. also, I just replaced the old version with this one, so I'm still looking over it for any errors or bugs. if you come across any, please leave a comment or send me an email and let me know about it. and I'm always accepting new submissions, so send 'em on!

many thanks to eric and jenks for their help.


:: posted by Michael at 3:43 AM (0) comments [+] ::

[===]
:: 9.21.2002 ::
I just ordered tickets.

hell. yeah.


:: posted by Michael at 11:07 AM (0) comments [+] ::

[===]
:: 9.17.2002 ::
"pop" or "soda"?

which do you say?

thanks for the link, 'evil'.


:: posted by Michael at 11:22 PM (0) comments [+] ::

[===]
:: 9.16.2002 ::
the small picture on the top left of this page was taken one afternoon as I was walking from a friends house in athens, ga. the subject is a large wooden railroad trestle that has been out of service for quite some time. the overall appearance of it - over a centuries worth of wear, the contrasting lines, and the way it emerges from its surroundings - coupled with the lush background just screamed photo op. the picture turned out well, and I thought it a fitting photograph for my personal journal. it depicts one of my favorite haunts, the biggest small town in the world, athens, georgia. the trestle also serves as a symbol for history, travel, and a link between people. perfect for an online journal, right? but little did I know, I was snapping a shot of a very special landmark to quite a few people. after hearing about a newspaper article on the trestle from my good friend Josh, I hopped on the web and was quite surprised at the fame of this dilapidated structure.

apparently, this trestle is the same one which graces the back cover of R.E.M.'s 1983 release, Murmur. in recent years, the fate of the trestle seemed bleak as city officials were faced with deciding what to do with the town's century old trestles. though others were destroyed and cleared away for access to the land they occupied, the murmur trestle was saved when countless fan emails poured into the mayor's inbox pleading for it to be spared.

since then, many fans have began making donations to help preserve the trestle and its legacy as a part of R.E.M.'s, and the town of athens' history. another large contribution was made by Ethan Kaplan of murmurs.com, using his oft-visited fansite to raise a considerable amount of money for the trestle through the sell of t-shirts. obviously, the band was very appreciative of their fan's support on the issue and have continued to return their support for the memorable landmark.

..and knowing is half the battle.


:: posted by Michael at 10:03 AM (0) comments [+] ::

[===]
:: 9.15.2002 ::
a bit of freestyle conversation, with slight grammatical editing:

bustas can't ignore the repertoire we've busted before,
wood duck up to explore avenues and that's what the word is for.
so I'll move with perogative, my hobby is to live.
I'm driven from within to find the secrets that connect yesterday
with tomorrow, history with today, all this time trying to keep my way.
trying to keep what I say woven in the minds by these lines
like I'm the dream weaver.
seems the believer will read words and turn them into actions.

I got a good paragraph in store for the rafters of your mind,
supporting the roof of your skull, holding the weight of a world of ideas.
turning fears into realizations, uniting nations in the simplicity
of the need to love each and every soul.
making you feel somewhat whole, when your words roll
so effortlessly from those dark corners onto the page
and the indications are realized ten-fold.

so speak with simplicty, no need for I believe.
we'll make waters ripple, make the children within giggle
and move past the individual torwards what the lord calls us here for.
the sangha is inseperable, this soul community
with the sole purpose of immunity from the world's materialisms, this blurred delerium.

I can't speak down on material
as we keep in touch through the power of these thousand dollar machines,
I can only hope that soon Man will incorporate
more thought towards nature in his ever-progressing dreams.
streaming waters to streaming audio, ripples to ripping mp3s.
makes it hard for this simple mind to conceive the possibilites of what the future may hold.
I do know my streets of gold may well be straw,
for soft travels as I look out on an entire world to behold.

yet I pray I'll know when to refrain,
for sometimes I feel like the straw man without a brain.
and the crows are coming from all around to eat in my fields and laugh in my face,
but I feel a smooth draft will replace all that.
my streets of gold unfold into the yellow brick road leading to the wizard,
and until he is heard, I'll blurt out "there's no place like home".
and you'll know I mean douglas g-a,
where your ugly mug sprays into the early morning rays.

I'd play a masterful Lion, I've surely got the mane.
I have far too many thoughts to be lacking a brain.
I love far too many things to not possess a heart.
it's my lack of courage that brings the most pain.
a constant refrain from the possibilities of my abilities,
arresting these thoughts with my cowardly chains.
let the wizard grant me the motivation to let my thoughts be heard
and arm in arm we'll travel along that yellow brick road again.

skipping thoughts off the mind's waters like stones,
but with no bones, for we both know we're in the zone.
in the depths of despair, we share the light.
we care to cite the manual of north pearl that's kept in the shell
only when the mouth shuts and the mind swells with no outlet.
can't forget the wood duck outfit, rockin' the tees like a modern socrates.
droppin' the beat, proppin' up the feet, speaking of souls complete.


:: posted by Michael at 6:56 AM (0) comments [+] ::

[===]
:: 9.12.2002 ::
unchanging relations between nations leave doorways closed
centuries of struggle in the name of their Gods
only to find the resolution lying just under their nose

I suppose that through war, man feels secure in himself
gaining justification because they're killing in His name
absurd that millions more will die before reason is pulled from the shelf


:: posted by Michael at 5:04 AM (0) comments [+] ::

[===]
:: 9.11.2002 ::
one year ago today, I was at such a loss. I sat on the edge of my bed and didn't say a word as I watched.

that afternoon, I sat in spanish class and reflected the faces of everyone around me. I wrote a poem.

9.11.01

Crumbled concrete covers the ground
Sounds of sirens muffled by headfuls of why
A symbol of peace in an ignited mound
Thick clouds of darkness inhabit the skies


Thousands of fallen faces parade through my mind
Leaving space more vacant than a room of Amontillado wine
'For the love of God,' their thoughts as they watch the situation unwind
'For the love of God,' their thoughts as they piloted their suicide


it seemed no matter who I talked to or what they said, no one had the words I needed to hear. it was that evening that I found a new appreciation for online journals. throughout the night and the days following, I browsed through numerous journals. I read feelings of sadness, depression, anger, carelessness, revenge.. and no matter how those people felt, regardless if I agreed with their views, it served a consolation that I hadn't found until then. if I could, I would list every page that I read and I would thank them. instead, I offer a general thanks to the people who put their minds out there for others like myself who were looking for a place to find peace.


:: posted by Michael at 4:31 PM (0) comments [+] ::

[===]
:: 9.04.2002 ::
look who updated!


:: posted by Michael at 4:49 PM (0) comments [+] ::

[===]

contents copyright © Michael Peacock 2001 - 2006.

template by Eliza Wee, with slight modifications. r.i.p. blogback :( this page is powered by blogger