Direct Order


“Milos” – Anis Mojgani

This rain is breaking me. I feel like freshman year.

I’m restless and tired and inspired and apathetic and I end up just doing nothing and hating it, and hating myself because of it. It’s just Seasonal Affective, but still, it has me wondering…things do change after highschool, right?

Maybe I’m just tired. Massive show on Thursday, Mariemont prom on Friday, Sycamore prom on Saturday, and doing it all again next weekend. School and music are both slipping.

I keep on taking tests for bipolar on the internet, so they don’t really mean anything, but I’m getting worried. I don’t want to be back here.

I want to write about comparing all these different prom experiences, but I’ll just wait till I’m finished: shake the dust, and rock out.



  • A close group of friends is like the end game goal of communism, where currency, goods, and services are communal, and everything evens out eventually.
  • Most weekends should be a healthy mix of self driven productivity and free time, but once every month or two it’s permissable to indulge in irresponsibility and take a few hours off your life.
  • Goals achieved will always be replaced by new goals. Stress is only repressable.
  • Losing your voice sucks, but makes everything you say sound tough and dramatic, so it’s not really that bad.
  • The saying “Customer service is like taking a bath; you have to keep doing it” makes no sense to anybody.

Tramps Like Us



“A More Perfect Union” – Titus Andronicus

Over spring break, I read Born to Run by Christopher McDougall, a journalistic narrative about a tribe of barefoot runners in Mexican canyons called the Taramuhara. It also talks about ultra-running, a running style that involves races that stretch from 50 to 100 miles long.

McDougall uses the different characters he encounters to argue that running, specifically running barefoot, is a natural human instinct developed by our ancestors to literally run prey to death. He illustrates this through an expedition into the Copper Canyons, where the barefoot running Taramuhara have none of the vices of modern civilization like war and disease. He also claims that the modern running shoe is responsible for most running related diseases because it debilitates the foot’s natural running style.

There’s so much I could talk about, like the different runners, the different races, barefoot running versus running shoes, the Tarahumara, how evil Nike is even after the fact they have their own sweatshop army, but I don’t really have time for that. I’d highly recommend the book.

But now I’m running. And it feels really good.

To err, to fall


“To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life!”

Yesterday I fell in love with my SRP book. Usually when I identify with a character I feel a sense of satisfaction and growth, but when I began to see myself as Stephen Dedalus, and formulated by own analogous portrait, it only reaffirmed my second semester senior apathy, if not exacerbated it from purely academic to include social as well.

If the artist is truly separate from mainstream society, then highschool is a toxic environment.

If the artist cannot be educated without synthesis and experience, then highschool is a toxic environment.

If the artist’s skill will atrophy from lack of exercise, then highschool is a toxic environment.

Most legal adults who haven’t been mentally stunted by a lack of independence should be able to manage their own time effectively. However, the student caught in traffic  gets reprimanded for arriving to highschool seconds after a bell rings.

“Armslength” – Moving Mountains

Top 5 Most Frustrating Things

  1. Fetal pig dissection is required
  2. High school classes are irrelevant to college courses
  3. Relationships have due dates
  4. My ups are arrogance and my downs are anger
  5. Charley Sheen is news

I think I’ll be sick tomorrow.



“Born to Run” – Bruce Springsteen

I’ve been feeling stretched super thin these past few weeks. Yesterday things just sucked for the most part.

I woke up super early for a Showstoppers rehearsal and then stayed in choir for the first two bells to rehearse. Granted, this is usually fun, but it’s just freaking exhausting.

I had to cut open a fetal pig in anatomy, which is physically disgusting to anyone and ethically confusing for a vegetarian.

I left after lunch to go to my dress rehearsal for the Overture Awards at the Aranoff Center in the Kaplan Theatre. I put “Aranoff Center” into my cell phone’s GPS, and it took me to the UC DAAP building’s Aranoff Center, and I found the Kaplan Auditiorium. The rehearsal was at 1:00, and if we don’t make it, we forfeit our scholarship money. Around 12:58 I realized I was at the wrong Aranoff Center, and flew down Vine to downtown Cincinnati, parallel parked and paid a meter, realized it was only for 30 minutes, parallel parked in another place, paid a meter, but it was only for an hour, so I was stressing during the rehearsal about getting my second parking citation in two weeks.  When I got to the rehearsal 15 minutes late they were still addressing the kids, so it all worked out. The rehearsal went fine, I got back to my car without another citation, and drove back to CCM to practice until my lesson.

It was just so typical of being unnecessarily stressed to make a massive mistake about going to the wrong Aranoff Center.  Not to mention I’m spending these next five days going to the Overture Awards ceremony, recording vocals for Starfox’s EP up in Dayton, and preparing for three concerts in three nights.

However, it’s not exactly bad, just busy. I’m meditating, taking time to read for pleasure, journaling, getting to bed early, and finally cultivating a taste for Springsteen. I feel these coping mechanisms will serve me well in college. Better than smoking a bunch of pot, right?

My Life


Its getting hard to find motivation. After working towards a successful audition, I’m having trouble keeping my mind active in the falling action of the last few months left in this town. As an antitode, and as a break from music, I’ve been reading a lot for pleasure, which is something I forgot how to do.

I finished What is the What the other day, and I started High Fidelity that night. I figure I could do a few of my own top fives…

Top Five Most Frustrating Classes

  1. American History (8th grade)
  2. Calculus
  3. Chemistry
  4. Anatomy
  5. Physics

“Red At Night” – The Gaslight Anthem

I turned eighteen last Tuesday. I feel draftable.

It’s strange how one day can seperate my childhood and adulthood. It facilitates a lot of reflection. I try not to put too much gravity into birthdays and usually end up skirting by with a family dinner and a few wishes in school.

I’m getting a tattoo tonight. I’ve been thinking about it for atleast a year. I’ll have “Sink” on my left arm, beneath my scars, and “Swim” on my right, where I’ve never cut. I feel like getting the ink as an adult symbolizes how I’ve left behind a childhood scarred by self harm and suicide attempts, and have been more or less rehabilitated. 

I already wrote about this in my personal blog, so it feels weird trying to reiterate it in a school appropriate fashion. You can find it here if you want.

Backup Plan #2


“Janos vs Wonderland” – Tristan Allen and Amanda Palmer

Shave my head, move to the Appalachian mountains. I’ll make wind chimes and blow glass till my hair destroys my need for clothing.



A while ago, one of my most talented friends and band mates from Berklee started working with Amanda Palmer of the Dresden Dolls after they met on the last day of Five Week. Now he’s got an album and a budding songwriting career. He co-wrote the song linked above with Palmer, “Janos vs Wonderland,” and it’s freaking brilliant.

I remember Tristan burning through his compositions at 4am in the practice rooms and it was one of the most moving experiences of my life. He went for days without sleeping, wore combat boots he claims to have bought at an S&M store, and went by “Triscuit” to most of us.

Congratulations Tristan. You deserve this more than anyone I met over the summer. I hope I see you again soon.

My Life


“Fatalist Primary” – Why?

This was the first New Year’s Eve in a good 8 years that I didn’t spend with my immediate family. Don’t get me wrong, I love em and all, but watching the Time Square ball drop and your friends being miles away can be a very polarizing experience.

But this New Years was fantastic, and it just so happens I’m starting with a pretty clean slate. Here’s an incomplete list of things I’m thankful for:

  • Closure: I’m so glad we filled that gap. Thanks for those years and for trying again.
  • Woostarfox: People come and go, but friends and family are constant. Thanks for being a bit of both.
  • Best Friends: Who would have thought that not getting asked to a dance sophomore year would be the best thing that ever happened to our music? Thanks for getting me into such good shit and not contributing to my slow suicide.
  • Music School: I know now that I’ll be back home for the next 4 years. Thanks for the friends, the teaching, and the $7000 a year. I’ll see you in September.
  • Parents: You suck, but I love you. Thanks for introducing me to Guinness and not knocking on my door every so often.
  • Parents: You suck, but I love you. Thanks for giving me the resources to pursue music. I’m glad the investment paid off.
  • Parents: You suck, but I love you. Thanks for understanding and not having me committed. I think I turned out okay too.
  • Panera, Dionysus, Barnes and Noble, Bronte, Essencha, Sitwells, South Pacific, and Casablanca: They’re not going anywhere, neither are you. I’m sorry you had to leave, and even more sorry that I couldn’t handle it. Thanks for being so lovely.
  • Turquoise Jewelry and Summer Hats: I hate you in a way. You helped me ruin my moral backbone, but that’s not your fault. I think we just met at the wrong time. Thanks for exposing my biggest vices.
  • South Africa: How does the same country produce such good pop music and Die Antwoord? I’ll hear you on the radio some day, and hopefully see you in Boston. Thanks for encouraging me to keep writing.
  • Zoey Deschanel: Keep singing and don’t let the comparisons get to you. I get Ben Gibbard sometimes, and if you stay Zoey, I won’t complain. Thanks for being one of the most unbelievable people I’ve ever met.