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

A Laugh So Hard...Your Eyes Pop Out

So I have returned partially intact from San Antonio and the bachelor party which will forever go down in history as the "best bachelor party ever"...second to my eventual BP of course. I can't even begin to explain the fun that was had. San Antonio is now my new favorite place to visit, and that would be alright if we didn't pull an OZZY and get banned from the city. If you're looking for stories, you won't find them here. If you get me drunk enough, I may reveal a few...emphasis on few. I do think I may have ruptured some of my innards because of the violent laughter that I produced all weekend long. There was something in the air that made each person in attendance at their peak funniest, which is saying something because there were at least three to five of the top ten funniest people I know there already. The others definitely ranked in the top thirty and after performances from this weekend they have surely improved in that ranking! Hilarity ensued....and best of luck to Chance and "that girl he is marrying!"

Cory Will

Depravity in the Alamo City

I am about to embark on a journey with some of my old college friends, who are notorious for unrivaled debauchery, to San Antonio for a bachelor party. Chance Park is getting married and I imagine it is all well for him to do that if he can in fact survive the brutal assault that is waiting in the wings for him this weekend. We've chosen Memorial Day weekend as our launchpad of depravity and as most things go with this group of guys I imagine we will be retelling stories of naked midgets doing the backstroke in the river along the riverwalk, vomitting on the Alamo, and there is sure to be a fat girl waiting patiently for one of our troupe to reach the city limits for a night of ecstasy...probably next to the bed in which I will be sleeping...knowing my luck. Anyways, I will post these stories and more upon my return...if there is in fact a return from the depths for which I am becoming involved. Buy the ticket, take the ride, eh?

Cory Will

thesouthpasture

Well I said I would never do one of these, but I said I would never eat poop and I did when I was two, so what the hell, right?

Cory Will