so..

so it seems Tasha is my only reader. If I were in the magazine or newspaper biz I would definitely be out of business by now. I Can also guess that this would be the effect to my own writer/poet life as well. I guess my stuff is a quite trite. soo what can I do to revitalize my deadpoetry. how do I possess the original?


read more.


simple.


freakin simple.





I was out one night and I didn't want to go home. So I slept at friend's apartment on the floor. It was different from my everyday life previous to getting a job at the highschool. I did this in college all the time; staying out late with friends; walking the streets of Gallup at night, feeling the rush of danger at every dark corner. Of course nothing happen to me or my friends. We would kick back and have a laugh.


There was something in walking the streets at night or even the day time watching the other people being drunk or hung-overed in their wayward way of life. I would wonder among them and feel detracted and empathetic. I didn't drink in college, but i did when I was much younger and not much did i drink. I did it to experience drinking. I stopped when I turned eighteen and when i was inducted into the LDS church.


But as routine I did drive around town for a spell after doing my laundry. My life was feeling bleek so I watch a movie alone, The Ruins, and headed to the college in town looking for my friends that picked up a job there. After emailing I headed downtown because my friends weren't any where to be found on campus. Stop at the pub where I usually play music at once a month and had my self a pepis. The music wasn't something to listen to when on a rambling mission. I did hear one good song and it was an old jazz song. I forget the name but it was in the movie Swing Kids.

I found one friend in the old part of town. A dank place called the El Rancho. I kick back and listen to the jukebox while drinking a soda.
so this is a life I once was a custom to, when I was in college. and I do slip back in to it now and again.

I was doing some web surfing, (cowabunga dude!) and I looked up greaser gangs well not really I looked up the movie called The Wanderers. It was about a New York greaser gang made up of Itlians and they had conflict with another greaser gang call the Ducky Boys. Those guys were made up of Irish guys. So I did some more digging and found more about the gangs and find out that they are real gangs back in the day before rap and hip hop came to be.
I started to think about kind of story I could write about. I've always thought about writing about the experiences I have had with my greaser pals. Here are some facts: They live in Sanders AZ. There's three brothers and a sister. Names are Sean (we used to call him pony boy), Sheldon (he calls himself the fly), I can't believe it I forgot the younger brother's name, oh yeah it's Brandon and the sister, Rachelle. There are other's that hung with us; There is Alex, he comes from Fort Difinence AZ. The brothers had their friends in Sanders. I started to hang out with Sean in college with Alex. They use to have a pow wow drum group.
At first I only knew Alex though a cowork of myne. then I got aquainted with a guy name Jan. I started drumming with them and I met Sean. I thought man what cool looking geek or nerd, because of his black rim glasses, punkish attire and grease slick hair. They started calling him 'pony boy' because of his greaser hair.
I have lot of things to add but it goes nowhere. I know I write about this all the time and I still go around in circles. I don't have any forward motion or even a plot to set things on. If I would make a movie about it, it would be pointless. But I do want ot make a movie about rez life with greasers envolved. Because that's what I know. I need a plot...