Estoy cansado un poco.

The past few days and nights have been gorgeous. This morning I smoked a cigarette on the porch while the sun rose and the paperboy did his route down my street. I finished my last painting for the upcoming gallery at The Goodfoot, "I am, therefore I think." Lately, I am enjoying ink more than any other medium. I finished the painting around 8 am, and finally gave in to sleep not much after. I slept until 12, and have been pretty exhausted for the day, but my brain still seems to be running at a commendable pace.
I recorded vocals for the 2nd to last Carrion Spring song earlier today (for our first full length album), which is called "Scum Fuck Angelz." I wrote those lyrics really late 2 nights ago. Thom requested that I write about "Our wavering faith in the punk/hardcore culture, and how capitalism has been successfully coopting off of the scene for profits... and also our possible optimism in the future of the culture." I settled with this:

this sinking ship
wasn't ever meant
to hold such weight
lead astray
such dead weight.

These corpses
ain't no angelz
The motive's a poisoned well
a stye, a blinding cell.

Rapacious incentives
program sedation
we've been robbed,
The fight has not been lost
it's just been stolen.
The fight has not been lost
it's just been stolen.
We've been robbed...
while turning our own against us
while turning our own against us!

These hands may appear to be
folded and dormant...
Well, these hands will soon appear
around your fucking necks

This year's model has been breaking ground,
while last year's heroes are buried, still breathing.
So let the bodies pile high
we're bringin out our dead
to begin again.

I mean shit, it's a little cheesy... oh well. It is indeed punk.
I am surprised I had not lost my voice recording the vocals... I gotta scream like a motherfucker to have them sound the way I want. Last time I recorded some of the other songs, I not only lost my voice, but somehow lost feeling in most of my left hand, and some of my right. I think I pinched a nerve in my neck, which seems to be attatched to my hand... or something along those lines. It takes almost months to regain feeling. I am very grateful that did not happen this time around.
I am almost counting the damn seconds until financial aid disbursement... 3 days left. I think I have 25 dollars remaining until that awaited day. Which is a bummer because Phil just called me and said he just arrived to visit from New York, and they are at the bar Mashtun. But it is apparently 8 dollar pitchers. I'll probably skate on down there in a minute. Just after I finish coming up with names for these paintings. I already fucked over the owner of the gallery today... I was running so irresponsibly late that I wasn't able to drop them off today. I promised I'd drop them off first thing tomorrow, so I got to get it all labeled and ready to be hung before I go out and get my drink on... and hopefully I don't crash at the bar. Or, I'll take a caffeine pill and remain terribly delirious and fucked up until the bars close. Ok, it's settled.