the connection between mountains made of paper and lunar activity.

"if it weren't for that rash, man! she'd be killer!"

i like my music loud... as long as i can hear my own voice over the vocals. i'm musically vain and self-centered like that. if i don't connect with a song and have the urge to sing along with it (even if i am physically not skilled enough to do so)... then i'm not going to like it.

it's not really about how "good" it is. it's about how honest it is. i wanna feel it.

and i suppose that's why certain music snobs have issues with my admiration for Justin Timberlake and Simple Plan. i don't care if it's teenie bop or not. that is not what i base my likes on.

"i was being facetious. that means sarcastic."

and that whole thing goes for more than just my music likes. that pretty much goes for everything. if it moves me... if it is honest and genuine and i feel it... then i'm hooked. to me there is NOTHING cooler than someone or something that just puts it all out there. especially when there is a high risk of being negatively judged.

that acknowledgment of the insecurity and vulnerability followed shortly by a swift kick to its face and a figurative "fuck you." that's pure power right there. not ignoring fear... but kissing it full on the lips.

"ladies and gentlemen... please quite down. and quit throwing shit at the performers!"

maybe that rush of power is why i don't mind conflict. heh. why i kind of get off when someone decides to unfairly peg or judge me into a corner.

because it gives me a chance to look them dead in the eye and lay myself out there. to be totally honest and open about my stance.

and then to watch them squirm into some disillusionment of what a lying, manipulative wench i am. they can't deal. hardly anyone can. when you hold on tight to what you know... and stand by it for everyone to challenge. they think their harsh and hateful words will scar me into submission. that their low blows at my personal worth will somehow make me see the errors of my ways and reveal the greatness of their babbling.

"go fart peas at the moon. i've always had a thing for anal peas in lunar rotation."

but all it really does is reinforce my feelings. it seals the holes and edges with super glue. then it staples them just for good measure.

and i stand tall with my idealistic tower of paper, staples and glue. i see it's flaws, faults and frailty. but i hold it up in its imperfect purity.

and i dance around the room with it... singing right along with Justin.