For the Love of Music

ACL - what a fucking grand time! I could type a 4 page essay of all the ongoings from this weekend, but I won't...because I'm lazy. Rest assured that a good time was had. Saw The Arcade Fire, Built to Spill, Bloc Party, Death Cab, The Walkmen, Rilo Kiley, Cory Morrow (why I don't know - maybe because my sister and I wanted to see Kathleen Edwards and the bitch pulled out), Wilco. Heard from a distance - The Bravery, The Decemberists, Oasis, The South Austin Jug Band, Robert Randolph, shit man, I can't even remember.

There was so much good music, and I drank SO much whiskey...I even smoked fucking weed for the first time in at least two-and-a-half to three years during The Walkmen, and I was TOTALLY convinced that they were the best band of all time...at the time. That was odd...but fun I suppose. I'm sure karma will rear its ugly head, and I will be asked to pee in a cup at work soon...better start shoring up the resume!

I really enjoyed seeing everybody that I ended up seeing. It was a random collection of people. There were people from my high school that I saw this weekend, from college, from my fraternity (yes I was in a fucking fraternity), from my first job in Dallas, from my current job in Dallas, random people in a random place.

I especially enjoyed hanging with my sister this weekend and dolling over life, love, happiness, and what they all mean to us and everyone. She's got a cool place and I wish I could find an apartment that cool up here for that price...anywho, we came to the conclusion that we may never find love...because it's fucking scary and twisted. Of course this was after a few shots and several beers, AND meeting her married friend who came out with us, sans wedding ring. Now why would you do that? I just don't fucking understand. If you don't love that person, or there was a possibility this would happen, why did you get married? Now realize, I don't know people's motivations and their reasons for doing the things they do, but that in itself is what is so fucking scary and twisted about love. My sister has decided against marriage for the time being, but on the other hand, she also decided against a hot dog in favor of a twelve inch club sandwich when we left the bar to harness the "drunken munchies," at 3:00 in the morning (one in which she actually put potato chips inside the sandwich...not as a delightful treat with the sandwich)! Parallel logic?

Maybe...Ryan Adams says don't give up on love (now he's not the only one to say that, but he's fucking cool so he's my point of reference) and I seem to never do, but I tell you what, I'm a damn sight more apprehensive about it now. You hold your hand over a candle long enough, it's going to get burned...but just as burns go, the heart heals as well. Maybe that's why we shouldn't give up...I really don't know. I really don't know anything on this matter anymore. I'm back in kindergarten again, learning the ABC's of "love curriculum."

Fuck what a goofy non-sequitor...anyways, we went to the Trojan VIP After Party at the Velvet Spade on 6th...I think (it was 6th or 7th). Allegedly, there were band members from Coldplay and the Arcade Fire there, but I suppose I was too drunk to notice any of them. Not that I would anyways. The Arcade Fire has an army of a band, like ten of them, and Coldplay is only Chris Martin to me...so if it wasn't him, I wouldn't have known.

I now have about 80 mint-flavored condoms...I have never seen such a high concentration of condoms in one place. It was really amazing...in the awe-struck kind of way. My buddy and I were walking by this 3x5 cardboard box, brimful of condoms, and I told him, "Man, there's alot of sex in that box." To which he replied, "I wish I could have alot of sex with someone's box...." HA...toilet humor...outstanding. I felt like such an elitist at that party. I was walking downstairs when one of our friends would get there and tell the doorman, "Oh they're with me." And they would let them walk right by...I was special for a night! Thanks goes out to Robert for that privilege, wish you could've been there!

I stayed in Austin on Sunday night after the Wilco show, because I was pretty certain I was going to wrap my truck around a telephone pole before I even got to Waco. So I had the excitement of getting up at 5am and driving back to Dallas to get to work on time...slid into homebase at 8:30 on the dot (my required time for arrival). Felt like shit all day Monday, but I am glad I stayed on Sunday night to get some sort of rest, and I'm getting my legs underneath me now and have finally rid myself of dust boogers, and "miner's lung."

I'll leave you with something Jeff Tweedy said...

"The biggest problem with American music today is, it has no soul. This weekend, I see a whole lot of fucking soul in one place. Go spread it through the streets."

I will Jeff....I will....

Cory Will

PS - Pictures to come.

Austin City Limits

And if the rain comes down,
let it rain on me...

I'm headed to the Austin City Limits Festival this weekend and I can't wait. I've been fidgeting in my cube for the past few days, playing air-guitar on my leg thinking about all the sweet-ass bands I'm going to get to see. Bloc Party, Wilco, the Black Crowes, The Arcade Fire, Oasis, Death Cab, Franz Ferdinand, Keane, Built to Spill, The Walkmen, Kaiser Chiefs, Jason Mraz, Rilo Kiley, The Bravery, Kathleen Edwards, Doves, so many more. Man this is going to fucking rule!!

The ONLY problem is that I may have to bring my kayak, because Mother Nature has decided to date-rape us again with her delightful hurricanes. First Katrina, and now Rita. They were such wonderful names before...like Rita Hayworth, and Katrina something-or-other, but they will forever be known as names for mass destruction. I hear there's a mass-exodus out of Houston right now, so that might hinder my ability to get down there at a decent time. I think I might drive through Brady...don't know yet.

Can you imagine being one of those poor canasta's from New Orleans. "Uh, excuse me. You need to leave RIGHT NOW because there's a hurricane on its way and it's going to wipe your city off the face of the Earth." "Here go to Houston, it'll be safe there...." "Ummm, excuse me again.....I hope you've enjoyed your stay in Houston, it's lovely to have you here, but you need to leave RIGHT NOW because there's a hurricane on it's way and it's going to wipe your temporary home off the face of the Earth...." Poor bastards, they're being stalked by hurricanes...just move to Phoenix folks.

I'm pretty jacked about the concert, and no amount of rain is going to stop me from enjoying the bands. I'll wear floaties if need be, but I ain't missin' it. I also get to see my sister's new place. Haven't had the opportunity to get down there since she moved to Austin so that will be a pleasantry added to the trip. I'm packing my galoshes and my scuba gear and heading down tommorrow night after I can get out of this shithole. If anyone is going, give me a ring and we'll all have to meet up in Austin...I plan on having a higher category blood alcohol content this weekend than Rita's Category 5. By the way, thanks goes out to Robert for getting us into the Trojan VIP after party!!! What the fuck, HAHAHA!! We're VIP's at the Trojan after party....outstanding! If anyone needs a box of condoms, let me know.

You Are The Bluest Light,

Cory Will

Nights Like These

The beer tastes like blood and my mouth is numb
I can't make the words I need to say
She had a weakness for writers
And I was never that good at the words anyways

I Feel Like I Am Going To Die

Finding out myself, the things I've torn apart,
Bleeding like a sieve, bleeding from the heart.
Sell me the drug to get away from here,
Just in time, I've lost my mind, and staking claim to fear.

It stings...like a sad girl and her revenge,
Far from the start,
Far be it from the end.

It feels like a million steps to the door,
Pounding heart, broken little boy.
I couldn't call her if I wanted,
Her number left my phone.

Kings and queens of coolness,
I'm a jester in the court.
Gave up the crown,
Turned around,
And felt the tension pour.

It stings...like a sad girl and her revenge,
Far from the start,
Far be it from the end.

I wanna be away,
Somewhere in the sun,
Listen to bands who make me smile,
With a girl beginning to run.

I've said it a million times,
I can't do anything.
But why can't I believe that?
And change the way it stings.

It stings...like a sad girl and her revenge,
Far from the start,
Far be it from the end...

I wish I would've had breakfast with you.
Maybe had a chance to talk this through.
Over morning water and presidence,
I might have found forgiveness.

I made my own bed...now sleepless in it I lie...

My New Favorite Song

If you get a chance go to this website and watch the video for "Wagon Wheel."

If you don't like this song, something is wrong with you!!

www.crowmedicine.com

It's a band called Old Crow Medicine Show and the song rocks my ass!

The Fall of Man

But I cry to you for help oh Lord,
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
Why, oh Lord, do you reject me,
and hide your face from me?

From my youth I have been afflicted and close to death;
I have suffered your terrors and am in despair.
Your wrath has swept over me;
your terrors have destroyed me.
All day long they surround me like a flood;
they have completely engulfed me.
You have taken my companions and loved ones from me;
the darkness is my closest friend.

When we fell from grace, in the dawn of Genesis and the cradle of Eden, surely what they felt carried an uneasiness about it. Surely, the weight of damnation fell on their shoulders...cursing the ancestry and lineage to come. Why is it that God separated himself from our visions, from our consciouseness? Why did He make himself invisible, where He was once visible. Why is it that He left us to flail in doubt and within the corridors of uncertainty to turn our brains inside out searching for the reconnection...the absolution. Why did He do this? Why did they fail to understand His purpose? Why couldn't the two sides meet on compromising terms, and if they did, why didn't one or the other hold up their end of the compromise? Why do thought's exist? Why is it that we have the blessing and curse of knowing that someday we will not exist in this consciouseness? Why is it we learn in increments of pain? Why is it we are so intrinsically secured to finding meaning? What is He doing? I don't know any of these things, even though I ponder them all the time...

I do know these two things for certain...

GOD DOES EXIST AND HE WILL BRING HIS WRATH....

JESUS DOES EXIST AND HE WILL BRING HIS MERCY....

Frustrated Incorporated

With your suicide kings and your drama queens,
Forever after happily, making misery...

What a great song from the mid-90's when radio played songs that weren't coming back around on the rotation 12 songs after. Too bad the guy from Soul Asylum died...they weren't my favorite band, but their songs kind of take me back to that little town in the middle of Texas.

Anyways, the reason I'm frustrated (at this present point in time), is my guitar is broken. It died in my arms about a week or two ago. Well, actually it died on my naked lap while sitting on my couch playing songs for myself in the living room. So there I am, putting on a concert for myself, half-naked (only my boxers on), and the damn thing starts making a noise that sounded like the sound effects from the game Asteroids on the Atari 2600. After shaking the guitar, frantically turning knobs and pick-up switches, the piece of shit decides to shock me. I suppose it was tired of the abuse I was giving it and decided to retaliate. Then there's a loud pop, and I pull the chord out, take the guitar off of my lap to avoid electrocution in my own living room, and turn the amp off. I open the back up like a surgeon about to perform open heart surgery on my Les Paul, and a mini-plume of smoke comes out of what could be considered the chest cavity of my guitar. Upon seeing this and the charred wires that function as the central nervous system, my prognosis was death on arrival.

OBITUARY - "Dehlila" (The name of my guitar) 1999-2005

Born 1999 in Lubbock, Texas at Jent's Music, Dehlila served as the musical embodiment of Cory Will for the better part of six years. She lived a productive life, participating in several bands, with her longest stint in the band "The Fratastics." Serving as the rythym guitar, she provided many drunk fraternity parties the ability to process what song was coming through high-decibel amps and served as a hearty backdrop to many solos for a Mexican Telecaster. A very reliable guitar, she rarely fell out of tune and often endured a fair amount of abuse from her drunken owner who was too lazy to put her back in her case after a show, because he was more occupied with getting completely wasted and trying to make out with girls at various bars and fraternity parties. Battled bridge problems at one time and had a stint at The Guitar Garage being repaired by a nutjob named Wally who often took $2.57 and a stick of Wintergreen gum as his payment. She was preceeded in death by a "State of the Art" beginner's guitar, and a Silvertone 1956 acoustic. Survived in death by her soulmate, a Peavy Studio Pro 60 amp, and her newly found love, a Lab Series L7 amp with 4 ten-inch speakers. Married to the Peavy for years, her relationship blossomed with the L7 not long before her death. She will be missed by all. She is buried with a 7M3 sticker and a set list from the Beach Bums party taped to her back.

Rest in Peace...

Things Enjoyed By Cory Will

Family, the outdoors, Bloc Party, the 1st song on the Bloc Party CD, Oh Brother Where Art Thou, Alisha, Alisha's accent, my sister (she's a lovely person), girls, people who don't lie, bottle rockets, hunting, Ryan Adams (I wish my life was his), being primal in nature, Brady, the ranch, snow crab legs, dancing in the rain, rainy days, sunny days, when it rains during sunny days, Lonesome Dove, the word "INDEED", folsom prison blues, hearing from old friends, being a bleeding heart, my fraternity brothers, playing in a band, especially when that band includes twins and a guy named Joe, beer, being drunk in public, hitting on nice girls, nice girls hitting on me, my cousin Will (top five funniest people I know), Eric (showing me different lifestyles), blue heeler puppies, playing the guitar, writing songs that strike the heart, writing songs that strike the hearts of people I know, having a whacked-out-interesting mind like John Paul, lovers, clear complexion, Texas Tech football, Texas A&M losing at anything, breakfast tacos, striving for Christ-like actions, Mom's home-made meals, painkillers, a good job, people who make me feel worthy, Meredith Whitworth (angel on Earth), Knob Creek whiskey, Dr. Graves and his daughter, learning, reading insightful material, the Sopranos, Christmas with my family, Texas, Central Texas, old black men, my truck, Spin magazine, fishing, my best friends, PF Changs, the PF Changs in Austin, The Blue Light, beagles, being human, mad cats, my "good side", drawing pictures for people I care about, Great Expectations, falling madly-ass-stupidly-in-love, revenge, not being broke, the lyric "if I had a simple love, how would it feel and what would it mean", watermelon, Austin Texas, sleeping, dreaming of you when I sleep, The New Pornographers, how I should have written half of the Shins' songs, Apocalypse Now, Natalie Portman, my dreams about Natalie Portman, Top Gun, Natalie Portman's naked picture below in my blog, Vernon Texas, the Hill Country, being out on the lake, intestinal fortitude, my family history, my old (and gone) friend Celeste, how there are no divorces in my family, singing at the top of my lungs in my truck, dominating at NCAA Football, Matt Hinz and his pessimism, keeping things in check, Deadwood, Epiphone, my uncle Kyle, pictures of bands, showers (at least three a day), Goat Cook-Off, my friend Brendan, roller coasters (aka, the Titan at Six Flags), Six Flags, low light, Old Nine Road, Fuzion Frenzy, Monopoly, Monopoly money, drinking games, JFK, my camera, my father's silent intelligence, randomness, boobies, Colorado, having your alcohol tab covered because you look like you're in love, Aaron Rutherford, the fifty yard line of the TCU football field, running, smoking, smoking while your running, Vicodin, the 4th of July, college, creativity, grammatical perfection, Rachel's blog, my pair of white soccer shorts, Labyrinth, the Minnesota Vikings, alone time, text messaging, the sound my phone makes when I'm texted by you, computers not crashing, the "Grand Love of Corin," Kings of Leon, Laissez Faire, nihilism, honesty, Kyla, red dirt, my blood, telecasters, Heavens Golden Shores, tattoos on girls, this blog, the harmonica on Neil Young's "Heart of Gold," the South Tank, making out with girls at the South Tank, getting high by myself at the South Tank, Angel perfume, defying the devil, Sui Dreams perfume, My Morning Jacket, having a young man's mind with an old man's soul, sunsets, crosses, diving boards, the Bible, trampolines, "break the egg game" on trampolines, gettting fucking wasted out of my gourd, water, old Saturday Night Live, phone calls from drunk people late at night, CS Lewis, "The Weight"-by The Band ("Take a load off Annie," you know), my Mom, Spring Break, jeans that fit like a fucking glove, back scratches AND butt rubs, my Abercrombie and Fitch poster that takes up a whole wall, Jenny P and the gap in her teeth, fly fishing, Oh Noble Eric, Wilco, sex, Yellow Ledbetter (if you can name a better song, I dare you), Bob Dylan, Church, letting go, spicy chicken wings, the thought of California, Hemmingway, Hunter S. Thompson, doing what you want within the realms of sanity, the song "Devil's Waitin'" on the new Black Rebel Motorcycle Club album, Norman Mailer, trusting God, airtech floor fans, Fight Club, grad school, riding bikes, opening my eyes every morning, the necklace my Mom gave me in junior high, black bracelets, The Jayhawks, knowing the unknown, little kids, lifeguarding, tennis, basketball, playing tennis on a basketball court, falling through ceilings, bar-b-q (Hard 8 in particular....turkey to die for), Kentucky Beau, my best friend Jason, doing nice things for people, correctly tuned guitars, having nice things done for me, C's burrito's, quitting shitty jobs, dominating the realm of consciousness, smoking cigarettes, my journal, Simon, 300 thread-count sheets, popcorn, Star Wars, being on time, being skinny and in shape, Walt Whitman, World War II, my grandfather I never knew, Gospel music, Josh Rouse, Johnny Cash, air conditioning, sleeping outside, sleeping with your special someone outside, fucking lists that are too long, beating myself down, blue eyes, brunettes, Igby Goes Down, freckles, Pulp Fiction, He-Man (I have the power...mutha fucka), Jessi Moore, batteries that can be recharged, thrift stores, electric razors, my five-o-clock shadow, the Maxell picture of the guy sitting in a chair and the sound from the stereo blowing his hair back, Odis (well not really), winks of sarcasm, people reading this and getting pissed, Atlanta Braves, Dale Murphy in particular, Australia (although I've never been there), my clock radio, that new Gorillaz song (THAT'S A FUCKING JAM), 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, exceeding expectations, the new Bright Eyes Album (I'm Wide Awake bitches), Dan Fogleberg, Calvin the Second, swings (especially at Rochelle High School), being crude, my Grandmother's hugs, paranoia, trips to Missourri, Tigger, smoker's meow, acting stupid, being with someone who matches you in every way, dealing with it when they don't, playing music with my musical family (even if it is Sleepwalker every time), Joe Namath, Gary Cooper, Only Living Boy In New York, new babies in my family, sarcasm.........AND LIFE IN ALL ITS WONDER....


Cory Will

Nuclear

"So this is where the summer ends...
In a flash of pure destruction no one wins."

I always know when summer is over. There are signs. One being the opening day of dove season. As the weather cools, the migration starts. Even the birds know when summer is over and it's time to move on to the warmer plains of Mexico and South America. Another sign is the football hysteria. It's that time between the dog days of August, when you're body is crippled from the summer heat and the northerner's blowing in, giving you a revival in your muscles. You feel like hitting something, or someone...I guess that's why football works so well this time of year. The final sign, for me, is Labor Day weekend. Where I come from, Labor Day ranks, with some, on the same tier with Christmas and Thanksgiving. It's the perfect bookend for a summer, and it always offers an interesting last chapter to your summer's whether they were good or not.

In most cases, Labor Day weekend mirrors the summer's I've had. It surely did this year. I enjoyed my summer...at times. I was able to do some things I'd never been able to do, start new friendships, and ultimately lost a few people who meant so much to me, but all's well that end's well, and this summer did just that. So the prep comes for the fall and it will slide into winter soon enough. I like the fall, and it's reflective nature. It allows you to settle your mind a bit and concentrate on the all the going's on in your life.

I'm expecting things to look up this fall. They have to, really. The summer, although good, may rank as one of the most violently introspective times of my life. There were parts that were not easy by any means, and the hangover from them will probably last awhile, but as the saying goes, "time heals all wounds." I think the seasons start and end right when they should. Just when you're tired of one the other comes around and I love that. As in life, when you're tired and worn down by something, there is always a refresher that gives you a new start...a blank slate. In some ways, I am a blank slate, and although this is scary on so many levels, it's also exciting. Getting to know friends again that I haven't really spent any time with over the last year or so is fucking awesome. But equally awesome is the new people you meet. Different opinons and views that are often intriguing and sometimes not, but different anyways. I'm ready for the fall. I hope it's ready for me.

If anyone gets a chance they should buy the new Black Rebel Motorcycle Club album, HOWL. Even though their name is somewhat lame, the album is great. Spin called it the new "Nebraska" (of course being Springsteen's venture into Americana). I really like it and it's pretty introspective. Anywhooo....

Cory Will

How Awesome Are Our LIVES!!!

Well, there's one more in the archives for "Goat Cook-Off's Lived Through." Like my friend Rachel has said, they are a little more tame than in years past. In college, there were GCO's that could have easily been spliced into some Spring Break party reel, without anybody being the wiser, and believe me, my crew probably pushes the limits more than any other, but even we have been docile, by our own standards. This year could be classified and summarized in one single word..."strange."

Strange in the way that home almost doesn't feel like home anymore...not the home of family and territory, but home in the sense of people. The people you used to know and how they have evolved and in some cases, not at all. Maybe the biggest change is my perspective, and how I've changed. My priorities are MUCH different than that of my former peers now. A great number of them have taken one turn in the road, while I have taken the exact opposite. I may turn down that way one day, but not now. There are so many of my old peers who have these life changing turns of event taking them in a different direction than I.

It was weird in a way to hear these people that I used to know talk of things that are completely foreign to me. Babies, marriage, loss, despair, unemployment, gainful employment, signing up for war, just coming home from war, and so on. It definitely seemed to vary between the stable and unstable...and it's funny the times of night that you run into the majority of both of these groups. One early and the other late. So what does that make me? Somewhere in between or just a passing spectator who can't sleep because he doesn't want to miss anything? Who knows...

The strangest part of GCO was definitely a run-in with an old acquaintance who I used to be real close to, but have grown far apart from over the years. And by far, I mean hopelessly non-existent. It's hard to see someone who used to be a part of your life, a once decidedly large part of it, in the folds of despair. You want to help the person, but at the same time, it's also one of those things that you want to say, "Hey, you made your own bed...I guess you're the one who has to lie in it." Only a complete idiot would touch the situation I was presented...it's basically a wildfire waiting to burn me to ash, and there's absolutely no way I will involve myself in anything with relevance to it. Not to mention the fact that I have no desire to, but it's almost sad to see someone in this state. Dillusional, and flailing. Odd the scenarios in our heads are. I guess the lesson to remember is that no matter how far along you've moved from someone or something, there is always someone who is holding on to you...and how things were at that time...for better or for worse. It's really sad, and not sad in a pathetic way (although, I guess it could be perceived that way), it's more sad as sympathetic for that person's well-being. Believe me, this person is in a bad place and they want me to help them out of it, but there is absolutely no way I can help this person...none. It's really sad...

Anyways, enough about that. I've got to get some sleep, because I probably consumed somehwere in the neighborhood of 60-70 beers this weekend and slept a total of approximately 7 hours total from the time I got off of work on Friday till Monday night. A good question was asked this weekend by one of my friends, "Cory, do you think we'll ever grow up?" No...no I don't...and I will do everything in my power to keep from it...

Cory Will

Labor Day Pics

Awaken! Life Breathes NEW!

Welcome to your life Campbell Jacob Hendricks! You were born last night at 11:55pm, September 1st, 2005. You have a head of dark hair and blue eyes, and you weighed 8 pounds 8 ounces. You're parents are walking tall, with pride in their eyes, and love in their hearts. Your grandparents are watching their lives' purpose unfold with your arrival. You will be surrounded with love and support that surpasses anything you will ever be able to imagine. God molded you with His hands, and with His hands He will direct the events of your life. The road ahead is long, and filled with promise and surprise! I haven't even met you yet, but I love you, and I will be there for you little man!!

With love and bright eyes full of the wonders of life,

Cory Will

The Undoing...

"Where'd you go pyscho boy?"

"I felt like being destroyed by something beautiful..."

"Well, let's get you to the hospital. They'll know what to do."

"Where have you been?"

"Middle of a fucking tornado...tornado of doubt and despair...flailing for meaning..."

"Why are you here?"

"To take you back..."

"Back where?"

"To where you belong. The place you were before this."

"Where is that?"

"It's a place you left long ago, and have forgotten about since. It's not your fault...you were blindsided...you had no preparation, no defense."

"How will we get there?"

"It's gonna take some time, and it's gonna hurt, but we'll get there...and it will be better than you remembered. Better than it once was. I've prepared a bed for your rest, and when you wake, you will be surrounded by the one's you love, they will prepare medication for you, they will welcome you back, like the coming home of the son and brother. A feast has been prepared for you, and when you're ready, we'll sit and eat together...as one again."

"I don't understand."

"I know you don't...and you won't for awhile...it's misunderstanding that pushed you way out here in the first place. You need rest...of the heart and mind...and I have it for you...I always have. There's nobody to count on...not anymore. The only one you can count on is me. I will always be the one to give you ease, to give you confidence, to restore the faith in yourself that you once had."

"I still don't understand. I'm where I need to be, all the events of my life have lead me to this point."

"You're right about that...but one thing you've got to understand is you've been disconnected. From hope, from recourse, from sanity. You need my help...and it's time I came to you...way past time."

"Why?"

"The storm is over...and it's time to pick up the pieces. I will help you with that, must I reiterate that I am the only one you can rest your hopes on."

"How will I know when I get there?"

"You'll know. I'll let you know...and it will happen. Right now we've got to get your mind in focus, for it's been out of focus for too long. We've got to set you straight. Aim the right way, and follow the steps, one at a time. We'll get there."

"How can I trust you?"

"I'm the only one you can trust. I am the only one you've trusted your whole life, and I will continue to be the one who holds your trust. There is no other."

"Surely that's not the case?"

"I wish it weren't my friend...but you've got to let that go. Get that out of your mind. I will lead you in the right direction. I promise."

"Well...I guess I don't have anything to lose by listening to you."

"Exactly...you have nothing. There is nothing...and you can't lose nothing....drop it now....right here and right now, drop it...drop the pressure."

"If you think it's the right idea......then okay."

"Take my hand...we've got so much to do...and we'll do it."

"Who are you?"

"I'm you..."

And I'm Still In Love

I'm still in love with you, like two white wing doves on fire, diving towards paradise, I'm still in love with you...and I want you to love me too.

Oh the Dreams We Have...

!!BEST DREAM EVER!!

I awoke from quite possibly the best dream of all time this evening after work, before I went to run and work out. I dreamt that I was fronting a successful alt-country band, living in Carolina, working on our follow-up album to our commercially unsuccessful, but cult-followed first album. I was sitting out on the backporch of the hillside cabin where we made a makeshift studio to record said sophomore album, and I was having a whiskey with a cigarette. I was strumming the guitar, picking out chords and arranging the songs in my head (which actually was happening in my dream and I wish I could remember the song my brain was constructing, cause man it was fucking sweet) and I looked down the hillside to the river. Paddling slowly in a canoe, dressed in a white-summer dress was the most astonishingly gorgeous girl I've ever seen in my life.

She pulled up on shore and walked up to the cabin, stuck out her hand to shake mine and said, "Hi, I'm Natalie Portman, and I love your music!" "I've been so intent on meeting you, I thought I would find you here, but there are no roads leading to this place." "So I bought a canoe from a friendly elderly man up the river and found you by water!" "Would you like to go with me further down the river?"

So I stood up, walked hand in hand with her down to the canoe. She told me how she knew that I was the one she was looking for before she even met me, and I told her the same. We smiled and laughed for a little while, paddled down the river as the sunset, and then reached shore at a cafe that was along the river banks. We had drinks and sat at a table for two while she talked about simplicity and gratefulness and intellectualism all in a humorous way. I was in awe, and just about the time that we were going to leave, I was awaken by the sound of Ray Romano yelling at the top of his lungs about golf on my stupid TV.

Fucking Raymond...yeah, not everybody loves you cocksucker!!

Where's my Natalie Portman?

Cory Will

My Mom, the Candle Fairy

My mom buys candles like Kate Moss buys heroin. She tries to give them to my sister and I, every time we see her, and I already have enough candles to make a wax monument...of the HIMALAYAS!

So if you need a candle, and your's has burned out, put it under your pillow, and in the morning she will have left you one, ready to burn and fill your house with a pleasant aroma.

Cory Will

Farewell New Orleans

Dear New Orleans,

I am thinking about killing you tonight. For too long I've sat in the Atlantic, waiting for my opportunity to take my shot at you and your pretentious old-world stigmata - meets modern-nuclear-decadence. What did you expect? A love letter. How can I love you when you swallow so many into your voodoo mash of French obtrusion. So many blow-jobs on the crowded street corners, too many palms being read (when we all know that it's complete horse-shit), mass consumption of mushrooms and other psychadelic drugs, as you parade your dead down the streets to the sarcophagi that dot the cemetaries, while old men with trumpets and trombones, dressed in striped hats throw confetti along the sidewalks. Your spicy foods and holistic medicines can't save you now. What were you thinking when you squatted in the Mississippi Delta? Are you really that naive? Haven't you been beaten by the Ol' Mississip' enough to know to stop your evil ways? Is this what it is going to take?

You know, it might be a good idea, if you're fortunate enough to have the chance, to plant yourself above sea-level. Seems like common sense to me, and I'm a whirling, mass of air, with meteoric confusion at all times...and even I'm smart enough to know that. I've been traveling for awhile...got my sea legs underneath me, and made a stop on the way at Miami to slap the shit out of their shiny faces and bring them down a notch. Write a song about what I did there Will Smith...I'll bet it won't bring smiling faces, barely dressed to hit the chic Latino clubs!

So, I'm not far from you now, and I'm throwing the hay-maker tonite. I'd suggest you wrap up your formal goodbye's to your cajun-soaked, fleur de lis-covered, mess of an existence. I suppose the kids will be able to find a place to expose breasts and genitals somewhere else. I'm not real sure, and to be honest, that's of no concern to me. I've got my eye set on the bigger picture, but believe me I've definitely saved my best for the French Quarter.

You've survived the War of 1812, mass repeated attempts by the Mississippi to take you out, and even God has stayed his hand from crumbling your structures to dust, but my friend...you haven't seen anything like me yet. I have a lust for vengeance, and you happen to be in my way. I'll pass over you like rolling thunder, pounding your economic structures and more than likely, taking a few lives while I'm at it. I'll rain hell on you for a brief period of time, and then I'll slowly move inward where I'll eventually die out a peaceful death, bringing slow soothing rains to the Great Plains. But you my friend...you will be my mark in this eternity. I'll live forever through the punishment I induce upon you. You'll struggle for years, and as my fruits are sprouting in Missourri and Arkansas, you'll wonder what happened in that sour year of 2005.

Oh...you'll see the beads fly tonight...that I promise!

Expect my arrival soon...

Sincerely,

Katrina

Melody of Riot In the Wilderness of Oxygen

I am the six-cylinder revolver blown wide open...waiting for a target to eye. Pull the trigger, release me from the firing pin and rifled-barrel. As I fly...rapidly unfolding with ballistic velocity, sailing through the wind. With good aim, I'll hit my mark. Flying with cognitive dissonance, I'm creating vortices. Fly behind me and you'll fly smooth. Fly with me and I'll share it with you. Fly in front of me to get in the way. Relative contentment fly's with me...because I have no other choice. I'll induce pain, or I'll induce victory...depending on the side you're on...who's doing the shooting and who's getting shot.

Don't wave the white flag...I like a fight. We'll know more about each other when the blood's on the pavement and we're gasping for sanctity. Give up now and we'll miss the chance for completion. Let's compress it all and scratch to the bone to find ourselves. And if it doesn't yet happen...we'll reload...cock the hammer...let it fly...

The facts remain the same...only distance has changed.

Melody of riot in the wilderness of oxygen,
Mercy on the waterfall mist, in the middle-class sea.
Wounded in the world by a single twist of hate, it's all over now.
You're headed for the atmoshpere,
You're headed for the atmosphere.

My Life In Hi-Fidelity

Right now...what a funny dynamic...the present. You hear all these cliche, life-directing words of wisdom throughout our lives that instruct you to live life in the present and not focus on the past (because it can't be changed) and the future (because you never know what's going to happen). But sometimes I find these words hard to live by. What if the present sucks ass and all you can think about is the past and the future.

The future is scary. It's a wide-open world of unknown, that can send your brain on a carnival-style rotation, whirling around, trying to analyze where you're going to be and what you're going to do. Splintered thoughts generate different circumstances and paths to follow...each with their own conclusion and end result. It's maddening trying to decide which of these paths to follow and see where it takes us, be it a good idea, or a horrible misjudgement.

The past is the easiest to live in because no matter how good or completely fucked it was...it was familiar. Being a creature of habit, like most of us are in one way or another, it's somewhat comforting, albeit a little massochistic, to live in the past. No matter what happened to you, you can't change it and you're effectively spinning your wheels if your state of mind is enveloped in things that happened before now.

The present, by all rational thought, should be where we're focused. Because it's the things we do in the present that will direct our future in one way or another. So by living for the future, we are missing out on what may direct that future in the present. And the present is by nature an ephemeral entity. A short-lived being that sometimes seems dull with no benefits attached, but it's this "brevity of now" that indirectly leads us to the later. I've been pulling my hair out trying to figure this shit out.

Right now I feel like every decision I make, every thought I have, every feeling I express is something I should have done in the past, or hoping that it has a desired outcome for the future. Instead of living the day for the day, and then playing the hand I'm dealt, I am looking for the home-run before I'm even on deck to start my practice swings. It seems that everything I do at this point is pivotal to rest of my life. In a broad sense that may be true, but not to the extent I'm taking it. It seems that everything I say, everything I consider, everything I do is going to affect the rest of my life, and I'm too focused on the end result of these things instead of just letting the dominoes fall where they may.

One of my friends told me the other day that real men make decisions, be it right or wrong, they make them and stick to them. Indecision is the worst. It's all-consuming and leads to worry, which leads to uncertainty, which by this time, leads to failure or at least breakdown because you couldn't make up your mind and driven yourself so crazy that the time has past or you're expectations are so jaded, your point of view has turned negative and any positive affirmation has flown the coop...almost cowardly.

I've got a friend who is basically a fucking "chicken-little." The sky is always falling and crashing down with no hope. A bit of an alarmist you might say. I can't be like that. I consider myself cynnically optimistic, with low expectations of anything I'm involved in, but on the other hand, I'm willing to give it my best try and see what happens. Nothing is guaranteed, but if negativity is the attitude you carry, life will surprisingly imitate your state of mind. If you think you can't do it...you won't. If you think you can do it, then you have a better chance of making it happen, even though there's a chance it might not. If you give up from the get-go, you can go ahead and mail it in as a failed attempt. A positive approach is the best way, because what have you got to lose. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work, but at least you tried, and if by a stroke of luck or blessing from above, it does work...then my friend...be thankful and keep at it.

I've basically been doing some intense soul-searching lately, and I'm finding a few things out about myself. My weaknesses, my strengths, and my ability to adapt to certain situations and try to make the best out of them, even when every thing I want to happen is probably not going to. So that leads me back to the present. I can't change the past, and the future will meet me when I get there. I'll shake it's hand and say, "Well, where do we go from here?"

Cory Will

Under the Shade Tree

In the park
With buildings suspended in antiquity
You and me
Under the Shade Tree
Lay with me now
Like you once did
Spring on the rise
Love on the fall
Your reflex of impulsivity
I'm spiraling...
I like it anyways
It's you
Who you are
On a blanket with blue sky
Matches the blue in your eye
Matches mine
The names in a sentence
Just because
Drivers pass by
A moment in our lives
Not aware of us
But I'm aware
You're aware
It's all that matters in that time
Like a childhood nursery rhyme
Teaching us allegory
Parallels to life
Happy endings
Scary lessons
Fruitful existence
What did I do
Scared of me?
The trees break the view
They can't see me and you
Sweaty...
Engaged...
Dancing with the songbirds
Only they can fly
I see clarity
It's starring at me
Your scent on the breeze
Your kiss on my mouth
Take a picture
Let's remember this
No matter the time
It will always be
It's not the same anymore
Fall on the rise
Love disappears
Wish you were here
As lonely as can be
Without you
Under the Shade Tree...

A River Runs Through It...

I made my first trip to float the river this last weekend...and the trip was about as blurry as the river water itself. I've grown up in Texas my whole life and have never once floated the Guadalupe River, which by the way is nut-contracting. Getting in I seriously had to swallow my testicles back down to their rightful place of residence. The whole thing was "spur of the moment," "fuck it, why not" stream of consciousness. I could've stayed and worked AND saved money, but nobody ever accused me of being a genius, and besides, I've never floated the river, so I figured A) I'm not driving, B) We're coming back Saturday night (brilliant idea) C) I can save money and go before it gets too cold and there's still some summer left.

So we spend the night in Waco on Friday night and go to the infamous George's Bar...or should I say the lame-ass George's Bar. Okay this is weird...they're (they being the radio station I work at) playing a Pat Green song right now over the speakers in my office...weird! Anyway's you write one song about a shithole dive restaraunt and it turns into a novelty act. It wasn't that bad, but it's no Hotel California...AHAHAHAHAHAHA....lame.

After jumping on Andry's trampoline and miraculously avoiding paralysis (crack the egg...what a game!)for about an hour we all decide to turn in. By the way, Andry's mom loves Coca-Cola memorabilia. I felt like I was in a museum of Coke artifacts. Very nice lady though...cooks the hell outta some breakfast burritos. Andry, if you ever came to my parent's house you would feel like you were in a Southern Living ad or quite possibly a taxidermy so there's that.

The river was bad-ass! I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone. I mean it's basically a combination of archaic Irish boozing with surf-board mentality all rolled together in one high-rising-yeast-loaf-of-fun! Got drunk...really drunk. Ran into some people from college. Robert, we ran into "scarface" Courtney. She was with some guy who looks like he eats pit bulls for breakfast and then shits them out into compact dumbells for him to work out with...complete with tribal armband tattoo, Abercrombie and Fitch hat, and glasses that Vin Diesel would endorse.

So Fern and I left about 48 beers up at the drop point where we get in the river and remembered it about 2 miles down. Luckily, we convinced some poor kid who was working there over the summer, picking up tubes and sweating his ass off for a ride to the nearest convenience store to rectify the situation. That's where we met Satan herself. This lady would not let us buy beer without 32 forms of ID. I think I even had to show her my taint...

The drive back was amazingly "death free." I called my sister when we got back to the truck to come pick me up and bring me back to Dallas on Sunday, but she wasn't having any of that...maybe because she was SOBER. So I fought and yelled and negotiated with her for my travel arrangements the next day, but she couldn't be swayed. Hung up the phone cussed a little under my breathe about my sister and then I decided that if I was going to kick it, it would be on I35 back to Dallas in a wet bathing suit that was giving me the red-ass. What a way to die!

Luckily for us we made it back in one piece. Sorry to those I missed in Austin...I'll be there for ACL. Sorry to those who missed out on the river...you blow.

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Hello all,

I've been pretty busy with work lately so there's not been much action on this shit...not that there ever really is. I've got a 7:00pm meeting tonight so I have a little time to let you dwindle in the affairs of my life for awhile. I played basketball last night with some of the guys from my work and it was FUCKING humid. I'm talking HUMID. It was probably only 86 degrees max, but the humidity was a rotten bitch. After the game(s), I probably couldn't have been more soaked if I had jumped into a river of freaking sweat. Yeah, one big sweaty river. It was like having sweaty sex with the surrounding atmoshpere. I did "ball on dem foo's" though. Whatever...

So I'm giving some thought into moving out of state. I've become increasingly restless with where I'm at right now, even though I just started a new job. I guess it's just the blankness and superficiality of Dallas that I am beginning to hate more and more, or maybe it's something else. One of my friends is talking of a move to Pheonix to try and get on with one of the sports teams out there. I don't think it would be such a bad idea, but I have this overriding tug at the back of my shirt, telling me, "No. Don't do it. Stay put and get into your career. Work hard. Make money. Save money. Pay off debts, and be a FUCKING GROWN-UP YOU STUPID IRRESPONSIBLE SON-OF-A-BITCH!" (At which point this tug, becomes a tractor pull)

I don't know. The furthest I've ever been out of state is Tennessee...and Tennessee sucks in the summer. (Name that little reference, and I'll buy you a beer) Actually, it does suck...I just kind of feel like I'm missing out on so much shit. I don't know how hard it would be for me, because I'm really close to my family and there's so many things that Texas offers me that appeal to me on a recreational level, particularly with all things outdoors. But I'm sure there are new things to get into in other parts of the country. I know I don't want to go east of the Mississippi, unless it's Carolina. Other than that, I'll probably keep my aspirations pointed west of Texas. I've been looking into other jobs, I know, I know, I just got one, but shit man, I really have no reason to stay here...or to put it better and more logically than that, there's nothing holding me back from doing this. On a scale of 1 to 10, my seriousness about it is at a 4, maybe 4.5. I would have to find a good paying job, an affordable place to live, and I would have to have some money saved up to make the transition.

My grandfather fought in the Second World War, was stationed in England and saw parts of Germany he didn't want to see imprisoned in a POW camp for two years. My other grandfather fought in the Phillipines and did a tour in Korea. My father was stationed in Idaho in the heart of the Rockies as a fire wrangler for the forest service, and spent summers in Colorado cutting timber lines for the logging companies. One of my uncles fought in Vietnam, another uncle has been all over the world studying wildlife and range management. My ancestors came over by boat from Germany to settle in the Gulf of Mexico at Indianola and moved to South Texas, the other side of my family came over on a spice freighter from England and crossed the country to settle in Texas, They all did this in the time before the steam engine was invented. I haven't even been further than fucking Tennessee....and it was a school trip in high school. I've never even flown in a jet before....

Fucking Tennessee...Tennessee sucks...

Cory Will

Oh, Archangel

For a man may be chastened on a bed of pain
with constant distress in his bones,
so that his very being finds food repulsive
and his soul loathes the choicest meal.
His flesh wastes away to nothing
and his bones, once hidden, now stick out.
His soul draws near to the pit
and his life to the messengers of death.

Yet, if there is an angel on his side as a mediator,
one out of a thousand,
to tell a man what is right for him,
to be gracious to him and say,
"Spare him from going down, I have found a ransom for him."
Then his flesh is renewed like a child's;
It is restored as in the days of his youth.
He prays to God and finds favor with Him,
he sees God's face and shouts for joy;
he is restored by God to his righteous state.

Ouww...

My God, I'm hungover. And to that special someone who helped me home last night...thank you SO, SO very much. Sorry for pestering you...but, I find you somewhat intriguing!

Many thanks,

Cory Will

There's Fire in the Water?

Well, after spending the day with perhaps the most unusually odd person I've ever met in my life (who coincidentally works for Radio Disney), I'm off to Firewater Bar and Grill for our Twister Music Series. Boy, I'd love to score a gig at this place. The set-up is fantastic, and I'm sure whoever plays up there feels like an unconquerable rock-star. I actually am planning on drinking myself completely stupid with my co-workers this evening and wearing my hangover to work tommorrow. Oh well, it's a Friday...AND I get to spend it with Mr. Radio Disney again.

Just a little side note about this guy. His name is Jay and he's one of the promotions directors for the Disney station at ABC Radio. Now keep in mind that he deals with kids on a weekly basis and is basically a kid himself. He's some rich kid who grew up on daddy's money, he's 37 years old, got an electrical engineering degree from Texas A&M and hasn't done a damn thing with it. He just goes to promotions and hands out Disney toys to kids and basically fucks off the whole day. He's loud obnoxious and sometimes incredibly funny. He also has a super-hot wife, which he will remind you of at least five times a day, and acts more immature than me...unbelievable I know, but he accomplishes it. So I'm riding around with Jay today and I'm asking about his family and kids. He tells me that his wife was infertile and how they tried to test-tube the kid into the world at least four or five times. He then tells me in complete seriousness that, "after repeated unsuccessful attempts to knock my wife up, we decided that I would sleep with her sister and have our kids that way. So I had sex with her sister and voila!" I'm sitting there trying to keep from choking on my tonuge and feigning seriousness by telling him, "Oh...well that's cool man!" He keeps this story up for the better part of half an hour and then finally tells me he's joking. WHO JOKES ABOUT THAT? To someone you don't even really know for that matter! Come to find out though, his wife's sister pulled a Pheobe Bouffet for them and had her fertilized eggs implanted into her uterus and then shit out his kid...AND he's going into great attentive detail about the whole birthing process. By this time, I'm laughing my fucking ass off, and he tells me that, "seeing my wife's sister's snatch, really turned me off of snatch for about three or four months....I've got it on video too." Outstanding...

What the fuck...

Well I'm off to Firewater and my eventual drunkeness...and I damn well need it too. Maybe I can be cool and play at Firewater someday, because anybody who plays there gets ALL the chicks!! Wink, Wink....
I better start kissing some ass.

Fair eve,

Cory Will

Middle America

I am currently working on a pictorial depiction of Middle America (kinda like a portrait of small-town life, tradition, history, Americana, etc.) with my digital camera. Just another thing to lose interest in later on, but it's been pretty fun so far. I really like these pictures so I figured I'd share a few.

For the Time Being...

You Will Address the Situation or RUE THE DAY You Didn't!!

So my blegth has been a bit of a downer lately. Well, that's how it sometimes goes. I guess its been a direct reflection of how my life is going lately, and being that it offers me an avenue for venting, I would like to have a few things understood.

Control - I have none, and starting to realize that. You can't control many things in life and it's stroke-inducing at times, but you can adapt. I feel that the people who have the ability to adapt are most often the ones who's head is in order...something I'm looking into...seriously.

Like my favorite movie, Fight Club, says - "those who have lost hope have nothing to lose." Granted, that's a bit non-committal and a little desparaging, but there's lot's of truth to that. And by interpreting this with a critical eye, one can deduce that the past is the past and there's no changing it. Those who hold on to their possessions worldly and otherwise, become so overwhelmed with their lack of control that it starts controlling them. Trust me, fellow readers (all two of you), I'm definitely learning some life lessons right now! Fairly obvious?....yeah just a bit!

That's the beauty of life. When you're cruising along at mach speed with nothing but smoothness in front of you, life will occasionaly grease up it's fingers, wind up, and throw you a sick curve ball just to brush you back off the plate. Then you know what's coming. The question is can you hit the next one. Can you swing away? Send it out of the park? It's the time when you test your metal, and see what the hell your made of...other than organic matter and water of course. As my very amazing, and super-insightful friend Rachel says, "the more change i see in my own life, the more i realize that fair and unfair, happy or not happy has little do with whatever the universe has in store for us-- life is just life, and it is beautiful, even when it sucks." Amen, to that. Shit man, makes good sense to me, and sense is something that has slowly and quietly crept away from me for awhile.

As my favorite poet Walt Whitman so wisely noted, "I exist as I am, that is enough." Damn straight Walt, you crazy bastard!!

Best

Cory Will

Ouch....My Heart!

SON OF A BITCH! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK!

Sometimes, I feel as if...

...insanity is the only normality in this world.

...I can't reach out to you.

...it's not going to get better.

...it's going to get better.

...life is passing me by.

...life is amazing.

...people generally are deceiving.

...I care too much about it.

...I don't care enough.

...the end is not the beginning.

...the end is the end.

...the whole is less than the sum of it's parts.

...risk is the only way to achieve anything.

...certainty is boring.

...boredom is necessary.

...necessity is more simple than we think.

...simplicity is sanity.

...sanity isn't normal.

Rainy and Confined to Dallas

So if you live within the confines of the "METROPLEX" (I'm pretty sure that was the name of a Transformer when I was a kid), you know that you pretty much need a canoe to get anywhere today. The rain is definitely welcome, but "death-lazer-lightning," I'm not so jacked about. It's been a busy week in the world of radio and I'm glad the weekend is here. Gives me a chance to get some things done that I've needed to do. One being, save money. Just found out that one of my good friends from college is moving here pretty soon, which is really cool...she's a friggin' riot! Hope she doesn't pull some chicken-shit move and back out later, because if she does I might mail her a box of dead gerbils.

I'd better hear some stories from this weekend Beth. I'm sure Will is going to roll into town on a tornado like he always does to leave destruction in his path, so I'd like to hear about it later. You kiddos have fun, and don't go dying on me now. Oh yeah, you've got to get the Kunek album..."Signs of Life" is my new favorite song...AND it will be your's or you will DIE!



Stand up,
Wash off the dust.
You've got it all,
Open your hands and receive,
The things that you need.

The things that deceive,
The things that confuse,
Gain resonance.
But the only one with control,
Is you.

Shout at me loud,
Maybe I'll hear,
It'll bounce off the clouds,
Like you were near.
Maybe I'll hear you,
JUST STAND UP...




God Speed ~~CM17~~

Cory Will

The Art of Fishing and Philosophy - On the Banks of the Red River

So I made it back intact from a blurry weekend in Oklahoma, and hot damn (!), chalk up another one in the win column for trips to Oklahoma. It keeps it's undefeated streak intact for "trips considered a success...or...trips classified as fucking outstanding." Jason, Justin, and I drove up on Friday, and within two minutes of my arrival, I drive down to the pond below the house and Will is holding up a 5 pound bass and Jason and Justin are yelling some bullshit story to me about how "a snake ate Will's lure, and while he was reeling in, a five pound bass ate the snake and got snagged on the lure!" So I say, "Where's this snake?" "Oh he got off..." Yeah, I'm sure that's exactly how it happened with no exaggeration whatsoever...and I gave a hitch-hiking Charlie Chaplin a ride to the train depot outside of Denton.

Anyways, we proceeded to drink ourselves into oblivion, while lying about stories from college, laughing at each other's lies, having an inebriated "meeting of the minds" communal to discuss some various topics, ranging from serious to assinine, and then passing out at about, aww who the hell knows...I couldn't even stand straight enough to piss...I had to sit down to piss in the toilet....

After waking to the sound of the wah-wah's in my head and the skull-crushing headache each of us had, we headed out to Ardmore for more fishing and a complete tour of the facilites where Will has been employed this summer. Matt came up the next day, replacing Jason on the roster (who went home for his graduation party), and we did mass amounts of fishing again in the blazing sun of Ardmore, Oklahoma. After sweating profusely and being the victims of an effective offensive of fire ants, we decided to tour the facilities where Will works. The Noble Foundation is a multi-million dollar wildlife, fisheries, and agricultural research facility, that attracts many top-level professionals in their respective fields to conduct valuable research, accelerating the technologies and breakthroughs behind the agricultural sciences. It's a great place for Will to intern and the experience will be invaluable in the pursuit of his career. Plus, he gets to fish and gets paid for it...cocksucker.

That evening, we piled in the truck after some much needed showers (believe me, sitting out in the hot sun fishing all day, without the comfort of a shower for a day-and-a-half, can turn on you really quick...producing a smell somewhat resembling the lining of a litter box), and headed to McGehee's Catfish. Funny thing is, Justin's last name is McGehee so we pried him to see if we could get our meal comped. Oh irony, you funny bastard...........it didn't work. Not at all. In fact, the only thing McGehee's Catfish did for us was spin off a peristaltic chain reaction leading us to spend the next hour patiently waiting in turn for the bathroom. There's actually a landing strip next to the restaurant, and the place REALLY advertises this fact. Man, whoever flies in to eat McGehee's Laxativefish, better have the proper utilities for dispersing human excrement on the flight home. Geez...this story is getting out of hand, but IT WAS a weekend of seven guys.

That night we all decide to pile in my truck and go carousing through the pastures. Took a few pictures with my digital camera (which I will try to post), and went fishing again for a little while. Justin "claims" to have caught the biggest fish he's ever caught in his life, supposedly weighing in at 8.5 lbs, but the evidence is scarce and transparent. He says he took a picture so the jury is still out I suppose. We all catch a few more fish, then head up to the house for "booze time." We sit out on the truck and I swear if somebody had heard the shit that we were talking about, they would have wanted to kick their own ass for being present, or shoot themselves in the head from confusion. Our topics of conversation ranged from Bigfoot to the Messianic Conspiracy to hot girls to top-secret government aircraft to coyotes to ugly girls to burned-out stars to swimming over the Marianas Trench to girlfriends, and the reflection of space and time as a vehicle to accessing the past. After successfully solving every problem that has faced humanity, we decide to drive stupidly drunk through the pasture in my truck.

Matt, Justin, Will and I pile in and begin to drive NASCAR style through the pastures, completely shit-canned. Creating UFO-like crop circles in the fields of the Noble Foundation and Will “My Future Depends on a Good Recommendation From These People” Moseley, verbally assaults me (with good reason) much to the amusement of my passengers and myself somewhat. Sorry Will...

After that it gets a little blurry and several thousand phone calls later I finally lay my head down on the pillow at 11:15 am on Sunday morning. So now my truck looks like somebody threw 45 angry cats on the paint (nothing a little wax-job can't take care of), and the inside of my truck smells like a Schlitz Brewery.

I'm still dragging ass from this weekend, and considering the circumstances local and otherwise, I'm not doing so bad.

Oh, I almost forgot. I recently got a new cd with the song "Portions for Foxes" by Rilo Kiley. That song is the PERFECT rebuttal to the Killer's "Mr. Brightside." The whole jealous boy/jealous girl thing is pretty well covered in these two songs.

By the way, stories of people on acid/shrooms involving leprechauns/gnomes are now, as recently brought to my attention, interchangeable. Funny...you can just put whatever entity you want too in the blanks and it fits...I guess they do that in Tennessee as well...either that or a coincidence of universal proportions happened during my lifetime, but I wouldn't count on it...

Cory Will

If I Ever Get Back to Oklahoma...Gonna Nail My Feet to the Ground

This week has been quite interesting, mainly because I've seen so much of it I guess. Sleeping is becoming increasingly more difficult, but I'll get enough sleep when I'm dead I suppose.

This last weekend I visited my grandparents in Vernon, Tx. Quite possibly the least asthetically pleasing town in the Northern half of Texas, but they don't actually live IN Vernon. They live on a farm about 15 miles outside of the town, and being there is like being a character in a Norman Rockwell painting or perhaps the protaganist in a Woody Guthrie song. The whole atmosphere bleeds 1950's era, "Eisenhower-styled" living. My grandfather still farms at the ripe old age of 76. I'm not talking about hobby farming, I'm talking, get up at 5am, jump on the tractor and plow-till-sunset-farming. The old man is a machine and he is completely in control of all the maintenance and intricasies that come with running a farm. My grandmother gets up every morning at the same time he does and cooks him breakfast, then lunch, and when he comes in from the days work, supper is waiting at the table for him. They say old German prayers before and after every meal, and read verses from the Good Book before and after every meal on Sunday's, because "Sunday's are for the Lord,"...thankful for everything they possess and feeling blessed just to live another day...a simple life. My grandmother tends to her vegatables and flowers in her garden on a daily basis. They have a herd of cats whose sole purpose is to catch and kill mice and any other vermin who might think they want to occupy the premises. The dog's sole purpose is to alert them of unexpected visitors, animal or human. She gets a rib bone every day, and is efficient at her job. Everything on the farm has a purpose and that purpose fits into a unique little system that I find compelling. Awesome...a true rarity-renegade lifestyle in today's gorge-yourself-stock-full-of-meaningless-shit-rat-fuckers-world...

As much as the difference in age and lifestyle separate myself from my grandfather, we agree on lot's of issues. Particularly his viewpoint on government. My grandfather is completely and utterly paranoid about where our governement is taking us. He comes from the old school, back when the Democrats used to be the "party of the people." Now, he thinks they're liberal socialists with a censoring-control agenda. This was the guy who fought in the Phillipines and saw the Communists take over at the end of the war, and how they wrestled control over the people and instituted the "all for the good of the nation" type hysteria that Communism produces. But just like all other forms of true Communism, it didn't work. But wait, he offers no love towards the other full-of-shit party. He can't stand the right-wing greed and the veil of theocracy and moral compassing they hide behind. He compares this administration to the Nixon administration, with its lies and complete bullshit artists that mislead the public into thinking that we are the good guys in a never-ending fight for truth, and justice, spanning the globe with their war-mongering.

He tends to carry a more alarmist attitude about our future than I, but he sees the end of it all in sight. In some ways, I think he may have a point. He sat me down this weekend, and being that we discuss politics quite a bit, he confided in me what he thought, like he was giving a warning to the end of order. He said, "You know it's up to your generation to make this country right again. The generation between your's and mine, made a damn mess of this nation, and it's only getting worse. It's going to take monumental reform, and your generation is, I fear, the only one who will have that last chance." I hated to tell him this, but the system is in place to keep reform from rearing its ugly head. If anything, our political system is locked up, and the key has been thrown away. That's a negative attitude I suppose, but it's a two-headed monster. The two-party system is so entrenched that if anyone who had ideas of actual reform and could possibly bring this type of change would be driven out like a stray dog. Despite their differences, the two parties need each other. After all it's better to share control than to relinquish it altogether, they need each other like leaches need blood. And there's no difference, despite what you might think. It's not what they tell you, it's what they do. That's what makes me so uneasy, is that the average American doesn't know this blatantly obvious fact. Enough political rambling...I really hate it...with a passion...

So, I'm going up to Oklahoma this weekend to kick it with my cousin Will. He's been interning at a range and wildlife foundation in Ardmore, Oklahoma. Catching and releasing fish is his job. What the fuck? They pay him for it too. It's not quite that simple, they do a little research, but shit man...fishing for a living? Sign me up...

Funny thing about Oklahoma is there is nothing really funny about it. In fact, there's not really much to it at all. What is Oklahoma known for? Too far south to be considered a part the Great Plains, too far west to be in the Mississippi Valley, and too far east to actually be considered the Great Southwest. They're like Texas' little deaf-mute brother! Why do you think the whole state spontaneously combusts eveytime OU whips UT's ass in Dallas. But I swear to everything that is holy, I have an absolute friggin' blast anytime I go up there. I can't tell you how many times I've gone up there and had spring-break-like fun! Shit man, Oklahoma is a fucking riot, I don't know what all this boring-shit talk is about! So if you're ever in need of some rodeo class debauchery, head to Oklahoma...yeah that's right, Oklahoma!!

I'll see you this weekend Will.

Cory Will

Twist the Knife

For all the curses in the world,
None compare to what I heard.

Today you're words cut like a cold steel blade,
By my own hands this situation made.

Damned to all, for reasons I knew,
It's what you said..."He reminds me of you..."

You and Me

I saw you tonight,
Rather accidently...
I saw you with him...
The boy who's replaced me.

You went out tonight,
Got your drinks for free.
Doing the things that used to be,
Only for you and me.

I parked under the skyline,
Smoked the distance away.
Not too far from you,
But forever in a way...

My radio was on,
But your ears didn't hear.
Over your head, the drifting songs,
But I guess mercy flies too high to reach.

I came to say bye,
Before you flee.
But no resolution,
On nights of brevity.

Too many drinks,
Not enough sleep.
Quite by accident,
I stumbled to see...
The boy in your life,
Who used to be me.

Now I stare at the walls,
Waiting for ease.
While my twisting stomach,
Rocks me to sleep..

Having nightmares of what used to be,
Replaced in the world of you and me.

Matters of the Heart

The funny thing about love is that it is a dynamic of polar opposites. It can swing momentum at a moments notice and lies on such a broad plain, that it is sometimes hard to define. There are so many levels of love and all of them, or most all of them have been explained in one way or another through literature, art, music, etc. People who prefer scientific reason over wonder, find that love is a mathematic entity that can be quantified by the milliliters of hormones that drip through our system and into our brains causing these "emotions." They also tend to believe that you can control these hormones with a concentrated effort of "mind over matter." That they can somehow avoid the trials and attachments that love sometimes brings, or that they can gather only a sense of enjoyment for something or someone they love just because it exists and gives them pleasure, without real attachment. Those who prefer wonder over reason seem to be those who get lost in love. Love sometimes swallows these people. The whims and pleasantries that love brings is (you might think) what these people live and die for. Consequently, these people are usually hit the hardest by the torture that love can bring to the table.

There are different kinds of love. For instance, I love music. It is an abstract type of love. It's not an applied or practical love by any means, because it is without a secure attachment to my heart, but more to my mind. I like the way it makes me think, and offers an avenue for expression. I am astonished by what can be accomplished by it and amazed at the unique structure of every song. It appeals to my intellectual side and I really think it keeps me from insanity. It's like an engine treatment that you put in your gas tank in your car. When all the other shit is coursing through your brain, music comes in and breaks up the clogs so that it all flows through more clearly. It's this kind of stagnant love that we have in the small details of everyday life. Like a love of a certain kind of restaurant or the way our car shines after its been through the wash...you love that.

I also love my parents/family. This kind of love is probably the most rooted love in someone's heart. Like a default love that is seemingly always there. Now this is not the case for everybody, but it is for me, and for that I am fortunate. It is a comforting love that feels like home. Like a magentic north for my "progenic compass." It's a dependable love and one that is as reliable as the seasons changing. No matter the circumstance I know that love is always there and always will be even when we no longer exist. One of my best friends found out that he is going to be a father soon. He will soon be going through this type of love albeit from a different perspective. But the love of beautiful creation that he and his wife will soon be experiencing is an astonishing kind of love. It is what they call unconditional. It is given no matter the conditions at hand. No matter what that kid looks like, talks like, succeeds, and fails at, he/she will have an unconditional love from his parents and in turn, he/she will return that rooted love for them. From a worldly point of view, it's probably the most firm foundation one can build a life upon. It's a transcendent love, but yet it seems so simple and guaranteed; almost eternal.

Then there is the love for friends. This love is sparked from comraderie and fulfilled in the passing of life itself. Friends come and go, and this type of bond doesn't seem as guaranteed as that of a family, but in it's purest moments, a person can feel that they have found someone else in this world who shares their interests and "knows" them. Most friendships are usually bound at the beginning by similar interests. It's funny that often times the lifetime of these friendships is directly associated with what they were founded on. Since people are an ever-changing animal, these interests and bonds are sometimes broken. But when they are based on something more burdenless and meaningful we are fortunate to see them last and prosper throughout the years. Friends who share interests that are more founded, seem to always have that line of connection no matter the circumstance. Sure it silences at times because of the intricacies of life that we get ourselves involved in, but it always seems that these types of friendships can be picked up where they last left off without skipping a beat. I believe a person is fortunate to have a handful of these types of friendships in a lifetime.

Then there is the love of a significant other...probably the most difficult type of love to breakdown, diagram, and develop a theory about. This is the type of love that at times seems like it is the most rewarding by far, and simultaneously can be the hardest thing that a person ever goes through. The emotions involved with a significant other can range on every point in the spectrum. Floating tenderness to blinding rage can be the nature of this type of love. Why is it that the person who makes you the happiest in the world can also bring you the most pain? When love is on the positive end of the spectrum, you feel as though there is no explanation for the feeling other than that its a gift from divinity. On the downside of that feeling it can feel as though Hell has released its vengeance inside your head. Many people over-analyze it and that can be a hindrance to seeing the truest form of itself. Other's over-simplify it and never truly "put themselves out there" to realize what it is in it's truest form. The problem with it is that if both people aren't on the "same page," they're days are usually numbered. Even when every other detail within their relationship is pointing for success, they sometimes can't make it work, and it's mind-numbing trying to figure out the reasons for it. Battling back and forth, pushing and pulling, trying to get your point accross can make for a weary heart. This almost leads me to believe that this type of love is inherently selfish. Everyone wants love on their own terms...and to quote the "great movie"...it's the only terms anyone knows...their own. It's hard to convince someone of something within the conventions of relationships when they don't want to hear it, or can't let themselves believe what you're saying, because it's normally out of selfish wants, or even worse they feel you are being selfish and they won't let you get close because of the fear of being hurt.

On the flip-side of this negativity is the great joy that is derived from this type of love. When you finally meet someone that you feel could be that person you've always waited for...that someone who fits you like two jigsaw puzzle pieces...like you're making you're place with that special person in this big, jigsaw puzzle world. Those feelings of the first date, and the first kiss, and the first everything with this new, exciting person feels like the first of all firsts because it's with them. And even though, you may have done these things a thousand times with people in past relationships that ended in failure, you still feel that this "first time" is the real first time. Just knowing that someone is there who is you're other half...I can imagine is a comforting feeling. I don't necessarily know that feeling yet, but someday I would hope too. It's amazing when things start clicking and the ball starts rolling and you develop these almost consious ideas about yourself being attached to that person for the remainder of your existence, when in many cases that end result couldn't be further from the reality of the situation. Nevertheless, it's a good feeling to have. It's what makes this type of love exciting and worth the effort. Anyways, like I said, this type of love is hard to theorize, if not impossible.

It's funny how all of these types of worldly love bring something different to the table, and how they each affect you in a different way. There are other types, but these are the most prominent in my life right now, and each of them is affecting me in a certain way right now. The way to deal with each separate type is quite a struggle because none of them are congruent...at least not in my situation. Of course there is the matter of the Divine Love, the love of a higher power, but that could be a completely different blog dedicated to that prospectus alone. I guess the important thing to remember is that most of us are fortunate to have one or all of these types and the others in our lives...and even when that thought escapes us and we are floundering for something to hold onto, we can rest assured that it will eventually seek us out and find us again...

Damn, I wish I wasn't so drunk...

I guess I'm off to go hug a tree...all this love talk...piss off...

Fair Evening,

Cory Will

The Kings of Greatness!!

With this post I'm going to go music on yo' ass! Yeah, that's right "on yo' ass!" Since I am an insanely-obsessed fanatic about music (almost to the point where I would murder someone who disagrees with my tastes), I decided today's topic should be about my favorite pastime.

First of all, my friend and I were discussing the new Foo Fighters album this weekend. I haven't bought it, nor do I care to, nor do I really care to expand on the band AT ALL (that's how much they mean to me), but the discussion was interesting. He happens to like the Foo Fighters alot, which is fine, but I feel that I have graduated from the rock-influenced-pop that they put on their albums. I guess to me, they are just too radio-friendly. They're that band that gives radio it's edge, because he was "that guy who played in Nirvana...so he must be cool." They're the band that is supposed to give someone credibility who normally listens to Puddle of Mudd, or Staind, or any of the 4 million other bands who won't let grunge die a dignified death... play minor chords and talk about how their "Daddy was a piece of shit." They have words like "pain, breakdown, darkness, etc." in their songs. It's all been done before...basically. But radio plays this shit, so we must all listen to it right? I choose not to.

Anyways, he likes the Foo Fighters, and although I did like their first album and the song "Everlong" (it really doesn't get better than that song...you know you like it), their novelty has worn off with me. I think they sound like a tired band on the downward swing of their career, but I guess I could be wrong...but don't count on it. That last comment was a beautiful segue into my general hostility about music and my superior attitude about it. Which is totally bullshit...if a song is good you should like it...just like that...that's what Nick Hornby says anyways. The fact that Dave Grohl wrote every single audible note on the first Foo Fighters album is enough to grab my respect for a lifetime, because he wrote the whole enchilada. Not a single person had anything else to do with that album, which I find amazing. Most bands are fortunate to make an album where they can dip into several talent pools from the other members to make an eclectic sound of different tastes and melodies...not Dave. He did this all by his lonesome. I think that's great, which leads me to the whole point of this post.

I have no respect for artists who don't write their own music. Believe me, writing music, lyrics, harmonies, melodies, the music itself, is one of the hardest things to do. Mainstream country, which I get to hear everyday at my new job, is rampant with lyric-stealing bastards. They're thieves in shiny shirts, leather cowboy hats, and camel-toe producing pants. I actually can't believe people want to listen to this crap. How can somebody possibly think this is good. With anybody who doesn't write their own music, all you're doing is rooting for a singer. Is it okay to admire somebody's voice, absolutely, but I think you're selling the real artist's short. That's not to say that the people who write for these singers are writing insightful material, because most of it is shit...let's face it.

But I hate it when people say things like, "But Bob Dylan's voice is shit." Really...I didn't notice....YOU STUPID FUCK, ITS SUPPOSED TO BE! You think his lyrics would have had the same effect if Tony Bennet was singing:
Pointed threats they bluff with scorn, suicide remarks are torn
From the fool's gold mouthpiece, the hollow horn
Plays wasted words, proves to warn that he not busy being born is busy dying
I mean come on. You should actually listen to what he's saying. I guess I think listening to just the voice of the human is a superficial way to enjoy music. Is it wrong, no...but I choose to find out what the hell it is this guy/girl is trying to tell me. Let's find the symbolism or allegory in this song and figure out what to do with it. Anyways...

I'm convinced the King's of Leon are the new Credence Clearwater Revival (who is the most American band of all-time). Some people have never even heard of the King's, but that's understandable. They're huge in England, which doesn't surprise me being that the Brits have infinitely better tastes in music than do Americans (but we definitely destroy their ass in the arena of tasty food, and revolutionary wars). They have a unique sound to them and that's what draws me to them...their sound...as a whole. Upon first listen you might think..."geez, it sounds like the lead singer drinks straight moonshine from a bathtub still and smokes cigarettes through a straw." But that's just it. It's their whole sound. Their southern-influenced, garage rock, is a great Credence-like answer for the new American heartland. I realize I'm tooting their horn just a bit, but I think they are the most "American-sounding band" of the last twenty years (at least since The Replacements), which is an oxymoron since they are barely recognized in the States and are huge in England...once again proving my point about the limeys. If you want to know a little more about Cory, listen to the Kings of Leon. They describe my personality through music. Someday, I hope to write an album that sounds half as cool as their two albums..and hopefully, Volkswagon will use one of my songs for their Jetta commercials...

"Cowgirl king of the rodeo let the good times roll,
Let the good times roll...."

Cory Will

A New Job...A New Direction

Well, it's been awhile, but I've been busy...dammit! And by "busy" I mean too uninterested in this blog to create another post. I recently resigned from Cintas Corp. and my position as "uniform bitch." There was something incredibly unappealing about picking up dirty, sweaty uniforms from ass-crack-showing mechanics, and dirty floor mats from convenience-store-owning Arabians, who consequently have the most negative demeanor of all the fine American citizens. This is a very generalized statement, but for fuck's sake man, say "thank you for your business" every now and then...and smile...fuckfaces...and shower...

Man, I hate to be sterotypical, but for crying out loud...could you just run a bookstore, or a Sonic every now and then. Why is it that EVERY Arabian owns or has a share of ownership in our convenience establishments? I guess I'll never know. The writers for the Simpson's know though...I guess I'm also a little sour because there were at least nine or ten times I was belittled and yelled at over a ten dollar invoice and the color of their mats. It's a friggin' mat man...I don't argue with you over the price of your Coke ICEES you piece of shit...AARRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH! I'm getting mad just thinking about that God-forsaken job! Anyways, I guess I shouldn't be angry. Islam...is as we know it, a religion of peace!

So that leads me to my new job. I'm working with WBAP and KSCS in Dallas. They're longtime established radio stations in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area and I'm currently doing advertising for them, which has been a blessing so far. It's advertising sales, but there's potential for a fruitful career here and the best part about it is that it isn't Cintas. I'm still a little nervous about the job and I guess that anxiety always follows someone into a new environment, but I'm trying to stay postitive about it and we'll see where it goes. Everyone has plans, and plans tend to be like chicken pox. You have them one day and the next they're gone forever, but my plan is to work here for a few years and then try to make a move to Austin. Dallas bleeds me dry...that could be a whole 'nother blog entry though.

My sister is moving to Austin and I'm really glad she is actually. Not just for her sake, which I am, but it gives me somebody to stay with in that "city o' fun!" So many things to do down there that fit my interests...like say BEING OUTSIDE! Going outside in Dallas is like walking out of your door, pouring a wall of concrete around yourself, standing on a hot stove coil, renting a jack hammer, and running said jack hammer approximately half a foot from your ears. Hell, if I just want to go fishing I've got to drive an hour and a half to some lake that is five counties away. Well, here I go about Dallas again, but the point is...Austin is lovely! So good luck to my sister...I will venture down your way soon!

By the way, mainstream country music is the absolute worst audible shit a person can possibly listen to. Good thing its piped into our office ALL DAY!! YESSSSS!

I'm off...

Cory Will