I didnt know how to just post the song on here...so here's a link. Emma's real proud.
mom and the half notes
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Yes, the Clarks are playing across the street the same night.
We understand if you'd rather be there.
8 PM - B.Y.O.B
8 PM - B.Y.O.B
Sunday, March 13, 2011
I'm more famous today than yesterday.
http://lofimusicblog.com/free-mp3-downloads/the-one-and-only-matt-miller-you-know-the-one-from-johnstown-pa/
Thursday, March 10, 2011
yeah? show me.
Lights up. You wanted to fuck, but the lights went up, and you were out of luck.
And that was the one night it was exactly time to change. It was brewing up in your chest, percolating when your wince was too wide and your feet smelled like baked garbage. So you took to the sea, swimming out against the blue so dark it could have been an old cave- this all for change; something hard and fought for with mortar crunching between your knuckles. You heaved in gulping breaths, cadenced with the arching waves. You tried not to glance at the fat sun, but when you did, the air changed colors and came out like spilled oil churned in a parking lot. The strip of land behind you was swallowed to a foreign stomach, and then it was time for the dive. So you went down, down, down like an arrow shot through the water, until the blackness was so complete it stung your eyes. You coughed out bubbles of air like they were choking you and they took with them the fear of death and dying alone back up to the shimmering surface. The pressure pounded between your temples and all sounds made themselves total in your head- the trash barge passing above, its rusted turbines belching against the plashing ocean; the gulls with their police siren shrieks as they divebombed for sleek mackerel.
And this was all because what was up there longer fit you. No suits, no booze, no hair, no condoms, no saliva, no job, no point. You did not fit into any one place. So you left. And soon when you were gulping in sea and it was flowing through you like a song- you arrived at it.
That which was an island was no longer an island. A swath of fine stuck sand, wheat colored and fibrous, swaying in the swirling tide and the limbs of an anchored body sitting on the sand, wet bread waving like a multitude of flagellum.
"I went away, too, and found my own place, and I stayed there when the sea began to take it back because it was mine and I could never have let it go. I'm so glad you are here, though," it said as the mottled eyes in their sockets bobbed like fishing lures.
And when it said that, you were afraid; at once, afraid to die again. But at the same time, you felt unfettered in the most complete way, a loosed balloon, because even in this pursuit, someone had come before you and showed you exactly what not to do. You realized nothing was yours, and you gazed upward. You latched onto a bubble springing from a sea vent and rode it like a trophy horse back to the resplendent surface.
And that was the one night it was exactly time to change. It was brewing up in your chest, percolating when your wince was too wide and your feet smelled like baked garbage. So you took to the sea, swimming out against the blue so dark it could have been an old cave- this all for change; something hard and fought for with mortar crunching between your knuckles. You heaved in gulping breaths, cadenced with the arching waves. You tried not to glance at the fat sun, but when you did, the air changed colors and came out like spilled oil churned in a parking lot. The strip of land behind you was swallowed to a foreign stomach, and then it was time for the dive. So you went down, down, down like an arrow shot through the water, until the blackness was so complete it stung your eyes. You coughed out bubbles of air like they were choking you and they took with them the fear of death and dying alone back up to the shimmering surface. The pressure pounded between your temples and all sounds made themselves total in your head- the trash barge passing above, its rusted turbines belching against the plashing ocean; the gulls with their police siren shrieks as they divebombed for sleek mackerel.
And this was all because what was up there longer fit you. No suits, no booze, no hair, no condoms, no saliva, no job, no point. You did not fit into any one place. So you left. And soon when you were gulping in sea and it was flowing through you like a song- you arrived at it.
That which was an island was no longer an island. A swath of fine stuck sand, wheat colored and fibrous, swaying in the swirling tide and the limbs of an anchored body sitting on the sand, wet bread waving like a multitude of flagellum.
"I went away, too, and found my own place, and I stayed there when the sea began to take it back because it was mine and I could never have let it go. I'm so glad you are here, though," it said as the mottled eyes in their sockets bobbed like fishing lures.
And when it said that, you were afraid; at once, afraid to die again. But at the same time, you felt unfettered in the most complete way, a loosed balloon, because even in this pursuit, someone had come before you and showed you exactly what not to do. You realized nothing was yours, and you gazed upward. You latched onto a bubble springing from a sea vent and rode it like a trophy horse back to the resplendent surface.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
WHO WANTS TO BE IN A ZOMBIE FLICK??
Hey all....my roommate and I wrote and are going to be filming a short psychological thriller/zombie film in the State College area and were putting up flyers for actors/actresses around the Penn State Campus/craigslist, when I thought I'd see if anyone from jtown would want to be a part of this, I know some of you are interested in acting. If not acting, we could always use crew help when we finally get to shooting, we will need all the help we can get! Anyway, we really trying to get working on casting now, so if you would want to help please let me know...it'd be much appreciated. You can either post here or shoot me an email - nicholas.rys@gmail.com and let me know.
Cool. Thanks guys.
Nick Rys
Cool. Thanks guys.
Nick Rys
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
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