i just wrote this all out once, then twitched like a bitch and hit the mouse and lost it all. don't that just beat all?
anywayz...hey!
Since no one ever reads what i write I'm really just writing this out for the love of the words and the subject, and for future posterity.
my name is treVaughn dixon
I have a band named ZETA (after the late(?) great brown buffalo).
I write songs, sings songs, say songs, whisper songs, scream songs, and am steadily broadening my considerably minimal brand of instrumentation (i can beat box, play some stray guitar and a mean, atmospheric accompanying keyboard).
I have been a poet since a zygoat and an artist since my inevitability forced my otherwise terribly-matched parents into magnetic copulation. all with my hands tied behind my sack.
Leather Thorns is my bandmate, roommate, great friend and inspiration. She writes songs, sings songs, moans songs, plays all iterations of guitar, has a powerfully empirical and mathematic mind, and is a beautiful, fabulously transitioning woman escaping the incongruous trap of a blazing, feminine spirit confined to the brutish body of a foolish male.
we are in glowing, nurturing orbit about each others founts, whose wake sprays magnificent art. like a two step with ten disfigured feet, an insaNE amalgamation bared to the future, baring its fangs, tearing at metal, feral, like toilet paper skin.
you'll just have to wait and see if the ends justify the native means.
(if you're even reading this...giggle, giggle)
in other news...
wow.
america is dying slowly. ring around the rosey.
owza!
anywayz...hey!
Since no one ever reads what i write I'm really just writing this out for the love of the words and the subject, and for future posterity.
my name is treVaughn dixon
I have a band named ZETA (after the late(?) great brown buffalo).
I write songs, sings songs, say songs, whisper songs, scream songs, and am steadily broadening my considerably minimal brand of instrumentation (i can beat box, play some stray guitar and a mean, atmospheric accompanying keyboard).
I have been a poet since a zygoat and an artist since my inevitability forced my otherwise terribly-matched parents into magnetic copulation. all with my hands tied behind my sack.
Leather Thorns is my bandmate, roommate, great friend and inspiration. She writes songs, sings songs, moans songs, plays all iterations of guitar, has a powerfully empirical and mathematic mind, and is a beautiful, fabulously transitioning woman escaping the incongruous trap of a blazing, feminine spirit confined to the brutish body of a foolish male.
we are in glowing, nurturing orbit about each others founts, whose wake sprays magnificent art. like a two step with ten disfigured feet, an insaNE amalgamation bared to the future, baring its fangs, tearing at metal, feral, like toilet paper skin.
you'll just have to wait and see if the ends justify the native means.
(if you're even reading this...giggle, giggle)
in other news...
wow.
america is dying slowly. ring around the rosey.
owza!
the sun is up and out now, proudly.
flares of yesterday scorch my now.
my mouth feels and tastes ancient from the beer. the steel in my reserve.
you mthrfckrs should know better than to anoint such a violent headcase to any position acquiring mass appeal or petty theft. there is no known innocence in my step. there are great waterfalls in my mind. my wings are pared down, so they don't smash the walls and knock over peoples teacups as i sleep and they watch and study my patterns.
the apparent fuzzy greyness of awareness is a blooming mustard gas cloud of too much coffee, man. or maybe not enuff.
blessed is she who shanks her ballz and goes playing in the ruff.