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[25 Jan 2004|10:00am] |
nobody does it quite like that with originality.
i'm almost appalled. but that'll subside. sooner or later.
there's been recent, not-so-recent, and ancient history that i don't feel the need to directly get into. if bychance you caught up on the tales circling their way around your head, you're lucky.
color me renewed.
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[08 Dec 2003|04:48pm] |
it's getting to the point where these lapses are so frequent, that i'm forgetting the last thing i mentioned.
and for that, i can't apologize enough, but i can try.
i don't just slack one thing, i slow down and turn the engine off on a million.
the white stripes are still winning best new album of whatever, top thisnumber of corporate something-or-other. whatever. i'm not drunk.
three, two, one, and i'll be online. thank you very much.
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[03 Nov 2003|07:13am] |
all this touring is about to burn a hole through my cranium. no stopping until the end of november, jack. but remember to return on new years eve, illinois jack. get drunk and fumble through guitar solos with the flaming lips, please. your finger needs physical therapy, anyway.
once i knew a guy that i really didn't know. we've all been there. he told me the key to happiness once, but i didn't believe him. i told him that truth only comes from people you know well and that wouldn't lie to you. he called my bluff, laughed at me, and claimed that honesty is only reached by a. people who don't know your weaknesses at all, or b. people who work extra hard to learn your weaknesses all too well.
strangers will tell you straight-up, because they know nothing of your history, only their opinion on whatever scenario you give them. enemies will shoot you down with veracity, especially if it's something along the lines of a negative impact. friends and family have the tendency to tell you only what you want to hear, words of sympathy and care said to assure that you feel no pain and know no truth.
who's to believe anymore.
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[12 Oct 2003|09:41pm] |
I'm not dead yet, kids. Brush the alloted dirt off of my closed coffin, I'm still trying to breathe here.
Near endings are always the start of beautiful second beginnings.
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[09 Oct 2003|04:29pm] |
time flies.
i have a working finger again. broken finger blah blah, fixed finger blah blah. reiteration? never.
jack x white i still know how to work a messenger service. surprisingly.
how come is it when one yells "FIRE!" people turn heads in alarm. but yet; when a young girl calls out "rape!" to collect help against an assailant, bystanders of the city simply shake their heads and curse the youth of today.
some people are in denial of anything that doesn't involve a loss of their own.
jack's random wisdom for today.
i think a friends-only transition is in order.
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[22 Aug 2003|10:28pm] |
subsided pain. tons of pills programmed to dull the aching and moreso put me to sleep. sometimes they make my hand numb and you can hit it with things without the after-effect curses mumbled into your ear.
meg has a mouth like a truck driver. especially when she drops egg on the floor, and the cat comes over and slides into cabinet drawers.
sometimes i put words into the walls of my house. and that's why the cracks are formed; when secrets, guilty confessions, and tales of lost love become too massive to withstand the weight of my self-designed failure.
the wall never turns its back on me. not like a window would.
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[05 Aug 2003|12:46pm] |
all isn't well, but it's pretending to be.
my finger is healing just as the doc said it would, but that doesn't escape the fact that the surgery left me with three screws holding it together for the rest of my life.
linking to graphic surgery images. fun.
all shows up until September have been rescheduled.. and that's all my good news for now.
you all wish you had one-handed-typing skills like this.
I haven't heard anything incredibly pleasant in a while. ready, set, go.
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[27 Jul 2003|11:49am] |
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mood |
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 bored |
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You have no idea how hard it is to type with a broken finger.
That's just what I get for trusting a car. A car to take me to any location. Any.
A broken finger costs me a lot more than it seems, because all it's coming off as is a lot of un-needed bitching. It cost me tour dates, the inability to perform.
Funny how i wasn't even drunk at the time. But i was on my way to becomming.
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[09 Jul 2003|02:18pm] |
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mood |
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 cranky |
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It's my birthday. my birthday, my birthday, my birthday.
I'm an old man now.
I've returned, but i should be off again.. getting back to my old rocking chair with a pipe and slippers; reliving years ago when i had to walk fifteen miles in the snow to get to school.. and when things only cost a nickel. no crime, no fear, no pollution.
no problem.
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[02 Jun 2003|07:01pm] |
i can be nifty and insightful..
but i don't really want to be right now.
just know.. that it's true. i did just say 'nifty'. and yes, it is true, it's my face you see on the cover of every god forsaken magazine across the country.
love it not, but the photoshoots give us free food. ..free food, yeahhh.
i'm in bologna.
no, you see.. i'm really not kidding with you.
cabin fever.
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[06 May 2003|06:59am] |
one more week until i'm off getting myself lost in sweden.
i walked into a bookstore the other day, and unwillingly had to make it past the magazine rack.
every.single.one. ..every one, my face, meg's face. it's insane, kids. but you know.. in the end, it's just all my fault for agreeing to do it, anyway. but it's like staring into one of those funhouse mirrors for hours on end. ..just.. changing clothing a facial expression every .4 seconds. fuck it, you know what i mean.
all is well, other than the frightening impact of not being able to escape from myself.
there's a corkscrew stuck in my wall. but i really don't know how it got there..
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[26 Apr 2003|02:53pm] |
just when i had finally gotten used to nyc, i was due to leave for california. i guess it's okay, though. meg and i got to spend an entire week on conan.. and i swear that man wants to have my lovechild.
it was raining in the city this morning. at least i know the shitty weather was saved for my departure.
i'm going to be all over the world next month, so soon i'll be the king.
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[19 Apr 2003|02:04pm] |
..sit in your bedroom, write a book.. sit in your bedroom, write a book..
For some reason, New York isn't what it used to be anymore. Well.. i guess i don't even know what it was to begin with. You can stare at a beautiful painting for hours.. and after a while, you can notice ever faulted stroke.. every misguided color.. the faint lines of cracked canvas. I guess that's what New York is like to me. But maybe it just depends on what area you're in. Or maybe i'm just working backwards. ..it could have been ugly all along, and i've just been altered these last years to noticing it for all it's beauty. It has potential, it will always have potential. It just needs help.
I still don't understand the whole hiphop-rap sensation. and boys wanting to go out and call their girlfriends 'bitches', or slap them around. This isn't my world, it's somebody else's. See how i'm the first one to flee at the mention of someone needing to be blamed for how the world is today. It's not my fault.. i'm still stuck in a year i wasn't even around for.
Nothing's the same as it was 6 months ago.
i think i need to get on AIM soon.
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[06 Apr 2003|08:10pm] |
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How much longer until we're all dead and rotting inside our homes?
I accidentally walked into a JC Penny's today. I don't like children on leashes.
I'm getting kind of old.
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[01 Apr 2003|05:00pm] |
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burn baby burn, take the trash to the living room, laugh at the sweetheart. you and your friend can kill it if television's aim is bad. break it, hard or die. it keeps going, you're not wrong. dont worry about it. what matters? you're having fun right? break the rules rebel. break them hard, help yourself. make yourself at home, turn on the video games, don't bother to contact. gorge yourself, it's all here for you, take your sweet time if you're confronted by it. blow it off and get paid quick. this is what it's all about, and we're with you baby. take my bite as high support. take my argument as just something that's my problem. you don't need this, you need to please yourself. the dream is alive and well, and we don't want to wake up from it. ethics, morals, spirits, breakfast cereals.
when you look into the mirror now, are you even alone? are we really as alone as we pretend to be? humans are sediments, the lachrymose are secretly vehement, business is the new glory.
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[01 Apr 2003|06:54am] |
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the discipline i need for the keeping of such a thing as this is unbearable. dearest meg, never let me run off on a leave of absence like that again. tie my fingers to the keyboard, staple my palm to the mouse if you have to. it must be done, and i must learn to get better at this.
the new cd hits the states today. that's definitely the only bit of part-way fascinating information that i carry with me on such a morning. everything else consists of boa constrictors and red tractors. it's a touchy subject. ...well, not really.
i tried to make a return to the sacred vast of AIM the other day. there were the parading of random fans and such that put a constant addition to my confusion. i think i might need a new screen name. and be all secretive, like a pretend rock star. that's me, friend. i play one in front of the mirror.
my coffee's dirty.
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[15 Mar 2003|12:27pm] |
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mood |
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give me a day. that is all i ask of you fine people.
i will be back and updating (and prowling AIM) in a day. says the promise of a mister jack white.
hold tight to the kitty's tail and don't let go until she nips your fingers.
-jack white
III
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[02 Feb 2003|10:32am] |
april 15th..april 15th..april 15th..
lodge it into your brain, kids. it's the day all hell breaks lose and elephant comes out to those lovely things called record stores.
am i expecting it to be up top along the lines of white blood cells? which was vague to 'up top' as anyway? not really. i'll be surprised if we get one sale, to a poor little kid in some faraway country who understands no lyric, but finds them each portrayed beautifully in a fit of acceptance for what he does not know.
i forgot the reason why i called upon myself so early in the morning. oh, right. it was to tell you all to add a very lovely lady i happened to find yesterday. her name is ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) virginieledoyen, and i think she's in need of some company.
from what i understand, she's a doll of a french girl. it kind of makes you want to convert your late night drives to picking up woman to ones more closely related to those in France. imagine those lucky men with weird names and silly hats.
-jack white
III
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[18 Jan 2003|10:46pm] |
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this entry is only so i can show off this fabulous picture of me with a very close friend of mine. we would drink tea together on dark nights when the wind blew forth black clouds of storm, and we'd share stories of belief under a star sculpted sky.
yeah, we go way back.
..don't mock. monkey has feelings, too, you know.
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[16 Jan 2003|09:15pm] |
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music |
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bright eyes..___we are free men |
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look, i remember how to work a keyboard. surprise, surprise.
upon my return from the vast, cold emptyness of...nothing, i fell into the large list of people that had added me on as their friends. stay humble, little ones. i'll get back to adding you all soon enough.
for months on end i've sad up in bed late at night and wondered. questions you only had the brass to ask as a child, such as 'why was i put here?' 'where do i go from here?' 'when will god fly down and show me messages of the world sprawn across fields of golden wings?' alas, i found no answers. after a while, i myself just got confused, and laid my head back down to the comfort of a pillow. some spend their whole lives searching for answers, and others just give up and wait for solutions to be handed to them. well, i don't mind procrastinating.
i've twisted the world of musical interest around a lot in the past notice of weeks, also. if none of you have ever heard of the band 'bright eyes', i suggest you make yourself aware before you die without ever knowing the beauty that could come from one young boy's complex heart. god bless you, conor oberst. and everything you do.
some people think that when phases disappear, so do the people. we don't disappear. we just sit in our dark little corners, hiding. and waiting for when society can finally appreciate everything we had been trying to feed you, that you just passed off to someone who knew how to handle meaning better. when that time comes, we will all pop up out of our foxholes and yell 'boo'.
and then you will finally realize.
-jack white
III
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