Below are the 19 most recent journal entries recorded in James Zane's LiveJournal:

Thursday, July 8th, 2004
5:17 pm	I usually carry around a lighter. Regardless of whether there is any good reason for it at the time, I find it necessary to have...what's cooler than lighting a girl's cigarette, or even that of your best friend? What's more apt than having it for a slow song at your favorite concert? For years, probably many more than we could ever count, cavemen strived to make fire, it was their life's ambition, and not only do we have it at our fingertips (quite literally) its portable. But never use fire to burn a bridge. Man, I can really be a fucking grudge holder. I swear to god I really can, and its not something I am proud of. You know those thoughts that exist in your head but you almost at any cost try not to let touch the air. Yeah those...they can't get you in a lot of trouble if they get misplaced with a thought of abrasion or regret. At the same time, we could all have beethoven's sympohny locked inbetween our ears, and it might take a shove or a push to get them out. I visited my former work and one of the dearest people to my heart today, and it felt as if a 1000 pounds were lifted off of my shoulder. The thoughts that brew inside your head can become more potent, but when you get the idea that a minute of silence feels like unusual torture, then for a second of clarity, you realize what a whole lifetime's worth would be. Right now I've got an interesting dichotomy of feelings that are coming into me now.I very much live in fear, but I am really learning to love myself...something happened somewhere between the asphalt of 480 west, Coldplay's "In My Place" on the stereo and rearviewmirror that I came to realize that love for your self truly is the essential building block for reciprocating love back into the world. I am frightened by things. Many things that some I have control over and some I do not. There is something very special about the disturbing image. The image of my father gasping for breath on his death bed, the sight of my mother having her second grand maul seizure. These visions sent me into such a state of shock and absolute horror, but they are so bloody absolutely necessary to human life that the brutality of it is almost beauty. Truly being able to seperate the good from the bad with such reminders as that can really give one pause. 50 mistakes are more important than one victory, because for the feeling in the pit of your stomach, the tear on the corner of your eye, and the piercing headache that results from the agony of defeat only makes one stronger. Look up and be damned...the ceiling is an illusion and there is no stopping what we are capable of. The feeling I got from watching an episode of "Oz" with my dear friend Jake has hanuted and unsettled me all week. The disturbing image of a an otherwise good man accidently killing a little girl while driving is so eteched upon my mind that I see when I close my eyes. He was clearly at fault, and while some may feel the punishment of 15 years in a maxium security prison that is overwraught with killers, racists, rapists and the like sent is quite fitting to the crime, sent and continues to send chills down my spine. Yet it was completely in the stars for me to see such a thing, and it was no accident that I witnessed it. Jake had no idea the repercussions it was going to have on me, and he still finds it quite amusing that I'm perturbed, but I had to see it. I have to know that people make mistakes...tragic ones, and while all I really want do sometimes is shut all the doors and put my hands over my ears, ignoring it only makes it worse. I can only and continue to contend that there is no accidents. I want to confide into all of you that I am scared, but that I want to work through it. I'm as anti-social and bitter as I want to be until I open my mouth and realize that through the sweetness of communication that if we just try a little bit, and maybe even put the blinders on, that the world can be a beautiful and pure place, and if we let go, yet hold on to our own handful of sand, perhaps we can make the world better one grain at a time. I got to play keyboard today while the best guitarist I know jammed over it. Everything else on hold, and for the simple fact that I didn't have to use my AK. Today was a good day. (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, June 22nd, 2004
3:41 pm	Provoking a Genuine Response "Don't get senitmental, it always ends up drivel" - Thom Yorke That is such a fantastic quote, but I have to say that I always find myself being...well, I dont know if sentimental is the right word, for a negative connotation attached with sentimentality, as if it as ungeninue. But I believe in the display of love, for everyone that deserves it. One time I hugged Dave Leggett in a public place and this kid stared at us, and I think for maybe the first time in my life, I asked the kidif there was a problem. He could only respond in confiding in us that he "wasn't gay". This is what he would say...natuarally. Because its assumed that 20 something suburban white kids hate gays, blacks, arabs and believe in Jesus Christ until it is stated otherwise. This is the status quo. -------------------------------TAKE THAT AS YOU WILL--------------------------------- be that as it may. Why has it come to pass that some how being inconsiderate and rude has become synonmous with cool? Why is being polite and showing tact a sign of weakness? Why have so many girls confided in me that they like it better when guys treat them bad? I'm a virgin and haven't been involved with anyone for a while, and thats fine. I'm perfectly contented with that, but let me ask...is there a corellation, do mean guys have bigger and better penises? I must be the case. From where I am sitting, it is assumed that us homophoic racist twenty somethings that beat jokes into the ground which they heard on movies and tv (Adam Sandler or Dave Chappelle, take your pick), and slam beers till they can't walk, and wear that as a badge of honor, while making sure that anyone different from them is persecuted, must be kings in the bedrooms. Girls, enjoy it now, marry them later, and ask yourself why the divorce rate in this country is through the roof. ----------------------WHITE SUBURBAN KIDS RUIN EVERYTHING.--------------------------- I know that I'm one too. I'm not bitter, I just need something to write about. For any girl that would be attracted to me because I completely changed my style to something I am not, isn't anything that anyone should want. I'm perfectly contented with the fact that I may have had liasons with what I feel attractive girls in the past that this is a dying trend. I happen to know what I look like, and I happen to know the difference between how a girl talks to me at a party and then talks to someone else. But to the people that keep it real, always know in your heart that you never had to sacrifice your soul for 5 minutes of bliss. This was probably a particularly poor entry, but due to the fact that the internet is no place to be in the summer, no one is probably going to read this anyway. I promise a better entry soon. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, May 24th, 2004
10:45 pm	Words Listening to Pearl Jam's "Verses" album really epitomizes what it feels like to be a young sympathetic suburban liberal, laced with guilt and a yearning to rebel by using drugs or raging against the status quo. I love that album. Sometimes its better to have someone confirm the believes you once had then to hear a new set of them that challenge you. They say em better, and it charges us up. When I read that statement in 1984, all I could think of was how ahead of his time, and how much of a genius of human culture George Orwell was. I can only hope that he wasn't too right, or the fact that he was confirming what I already thought could lead me to room 101. The ministry of love. Miniluv. We don't love Big Brother. Reading the first paragraph, one would surmise...yeah, he is a suburban liberal with no real threats...what does he have to worry about? The same thing as everyone I guess...nothing and everything at the same time. I find myself thinking about the same things, and therefore writing the same things, which is boring. And for that I am so sorry. No, really, I am...I'm not sure why I continue, but I'm going to, and at the very least, I hope that I'm not wasting your time. The summer, this summer, any summer gives me butterflies in my stomach. Everything changes, but stays the same, just becomes more brutal. What was a contest the other 9 months of the year has become an all out war, put on under intense scrutiny. No girl plans to show any less skin then the other, and the fact that they think they have to do that breaks my heart. Because they do. Because there is no other burning good feeling like knowing you are being spoke of when out of the room. Claim staked. Mission Accomplished. Someone will be asking, someone will be fantasizing under the covers. How often do you catch yourself saying a prayer to get a snow day, while saying goddammit in the next sentence? Do you do it as much as I do? That last sentence almost makes as much sense forwards as it does backwards. That last one didn't. I am so lonely, and I'm missing my father more than I ever thought I would be. I thought I'd be clever and detatch early...it didn't work, and I paid my dad a complete disservice. I don't mean lonely like I need a girlfriend lonely. I don't infact need one right now. Lonely like that way we all wanna re-create Christmas 1986, when it all really meant something. Fuck. Do something good before its too late, and hug your mom and dad. I know, they are a burden, they are a pain in the ass, but they will do anything for you, and dude...its so overdone, but make it well known. Shout it from the rooftops, you'll wake up a lot more hungry, but a lot more full. Make sense? Good, I hope so. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, May 16th, 2004
2:42 pm	When the unwitty say witty things, the imagery isn't good enough. My father passed away on the 8th of May on 2004. Being this is something that most of you already know, I'd like to take this oppurtunity to thank everyone for their cards, thoughts, prayers and condolensces collectively and publicly, as well as I hope in the near future that I will be able to tell you individualy and privately. This being as difficult time as it has, I thank you again. Although it hasn't completely sunk in, everyone has made this an experience that wasn't as necessarily hard as it had to be. That said... How's it going? A time of great, great change is upon me...probably more so than in the last 15 years living combine at Notabene, you know, which is quite fitting considering we're going to be saying goodbye to this house on the 5th of June. My mom and I have secured an apartment on Ridge Road which you will have to come visit us as at. Yes, this means you. My sister is also moving out too with he boyfriend Charles. At the very least, they seem to make each other very happy. At the very most, they have dreams of opening a tavern, and I think thats pretty fuckin' cool. A good friend of mine, John Worsencroft, has decided to join the army. In response, I congratulate him on his bravery. If I knew I had to wake up for Boot Camp in the morning, I would be crying pretty hard. Very commendable John, you'll read this when you get back I'm sure. It feels like I'm at the end of my run as a sitcom character. Or perhaps starting a new show with a guy with a stoner past, a minefield of old relationships, unforgiving fingertips and a whole new chance to alienate people. Life certainly isn't a tv show though, and if it were, no one would watch mine. Unless they really liked Radiohead. I just wanna help my mom out, she's had the roughest life I've ever heard of, and she deserves more. This is a short one, but I can't force it out. I'm sure my next one will be in an apt room, with a backwards hat. Thanks everyone. Thanks Dad...we love you, you are missed. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, March 22nd, 2004
1:41 pm	Uh Huh I have nothing new to say, yet I can't find any justification why I wouldn't just sit down and let it all spill down on the paper yet again.l It alsmost seems liek fabrication, jsut to have done this so many times before, but its the only way I can feel better sometimes. Its a bloodletting with the leaches like back when they thought that was the cure? Was it the cure? Obviously not, but I'm sure in a 1000 years they'll be laughing at us and tyelnol. Stranger things, stragner things. I had a dream last night with Nikki Elias and she was in my room playing a weird card game, and she knew that I didnt want her there, and she said "James, I know you don't want me here, I know that I still make you feel very uncomfortable." As she does, its now mirroring a girl that is now infatuateed with me at my work that happens to be very unflattering in the same sense that I imagine that I am very unflattering to every girl that as rejected my advances. It makes me sick to my stomach literally to think of all the nonsense that I've done in my life and now where I've come. On the brink of homeless, working in a job that limits me to thinking that this is what I've come to deserve, and a yearning to not feel. A yearning to not feel. Guilty is the feeling I get for spending the money I've earned. With the struggle of my family, I offer to give money, and its usually taken, but I feel guilty, as if I'm not being noble enough. My father, fresh outta the hospital sits on a shair with an IV attached. At first it was hard to feel any ill will towards him, but he is the one that has thrust us into the position we are at now, because of his unescapable demons that have plagued him for years. Now he cannot work, now we cannot pay bills, now I am out of school, now we must move, now we must think, was it really his fault, was this going to happen anyway? My mother cries everyday. Inconsolably so, making all my problems seem so small in the grand scheme of things, so then again, I feel guilt for being lonely, for not being high 24/7. Not high on marijuana, but just high. I realize that not everyone is high so much of the day but it really seems that way when you look at everyones poetry and thier schedules...hoe could they not be? We only get a glimpse, but the way the painters paint it is in such a way where you catch the creation in such a light that you cannot argue the agenda they had. To make you think that they are pretty high on something. Be it stress, or their own id, or the flowers and cany or perhaps a look received. I feel like those days have passed me, but like I said, it seems like a grain of sand in the beach of the problems connected with my family. My family and friends always made me feel loved and for that I am eternally grateful. Any departure from that would be death as far as I'm concerned. Mat Wendleken challenged me one time and told me that I liked to be depressed. He told me I was joking but there is truth behind any joke or of course it wouldn't be funny. Was he right? I'm not sure yet, but I can certainly see why he would think so. I think its more of a coping mechanism then anything else. The grass isn't always greener, people do have it better, and they know it. That sounds so cliche, but cliches are there for a reason, they made enough sense at one point for them to be so eternal. Cliches, the mere idea of them have become profane because we don't want to fall into them, but in all relaity, they have survived as long as they have because they've got some truth in them. Like a good fucking joke. Looks do count. They always count. If they didn't, why would anyone go to bars? Its much cheaper to drink at home and their is like, no risk of getting pulled over. It's come to the point again when a girl talks to me, its almost always about someone else. I'm in the 12th grade all over again. I know mentally, its almost as if I've never left that state. Begging to be noticed, because there is nothing else but that. Or so it seems? If it wasn't the case for everyone, there would be no away messages, or fancy automobiles, or thrift stores, or malls, or no one would start smoking cigarettes or drinking beer, because when you are 16 years old, you aren't so desperate to catch a buzz, as you are to fit in, to be noticed by the opposite sex. It all just leads to the inevitable. Its just something we have to admit. But thats nothing new is it? I feel a little bit better. A lot bit hungry, but I don't think that spending money is the best thing to do, because after I eat, that guilt is just going to come back. I think I'll drink a bottled water again. That is no status symbol, I promise, tap water is just nasty. I work with a woman that mutters obsecnities under her breath all day everyday. She doesn't get to spend her money on anything but the essentials. She probably hasn't heard her favorite song in years. How do we figure that one in? I'm sorry, I hope that I didn't bore you, I hope that I didn't bore you at all. I'm sorry Beth, I'm sorry Nikki, I'm sorry Stacy, I'm sorry Emily, I'm sorry that girl from Wexler PA, I'm sorry Christa, I'm sorry anyone else that I made feel like that. If its any consulation, I woke up feeling like an idiot. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, February 2nd, 2004
7:05 pm	Random I can't go into this with any certain sort of agenda, I've got to do what just comes to the fingertips, to just write. You know, its like when you are drunk and you just say what comes to your head, the internal censor that you've implemented grabs something to eat and puts up a sign. That next day its all a bit shocking..."I said what?" "I kissed who?" I want it to be one of those, I just want to write it now, put away the censor, and look at it all at a later date and move on from minute to minute. There can't be any stopping, grammar is arbitrary when something like this, the words to the page like the burning paper of the last bit of a cigarette. The cigarette break ends, and you go back to work and you go back to life and you see everyone's faces and you they know where you've been. That monet of liberation when we step away from Big Brother and the telescreens. When the yelling of your parents stops and money ceases to exist and the world is on pause, frantically taking down the last of your smoke. Nothing can be so pure anymore, no moment like that, even if you don't smoke you'd know the moment when you give everything else a rest. Thom Yorke says he's a creep, he wishes he was special? I'd take a bullet for that fucking guy and I'm certainly one of a legion of many that would do the very same. What can be said though about a culture that instinctvley goes to the back of the class but the front of a concert, and hopes different results out of life. I think I could possibly be the most guilty of this crime. But I don't want to continue to rehash my insecruties and frustrations. So, I'll give you a break and a break in the page.I was sitting at my computer today and I thought about the song Golden Brown and how I associated it with the days when the nights were won or lost over the probablity of getting that kind buzz on. That's what used to really get me excited...this was before I ever allowed myself the possibility of a girlfriend, and when Tri-C handed me security on a page and did everything it could to not make me feel mediorce. This was a time, all I could do was think and laugh...look out the window and recall to myself that the very favorite part of the winter is that it gets dark so early. not so much the darkness but the dusk that settles in about 4pm. There is no more cruel time than 4 pm. Everything seems wrong, when the sun glares and we are all slaves to the time clock or the traffic light, waiting to see what Mom made for dinner. Those early week 4 pm's are killers, at least to me at least....I'm pretty fuckin weird sometimes, but thats okay, because I'm letting you in. A grand desire for me is to grow a beard, become an alcoholic and move some place to become a succesful recluse. Write one really good book and then have everyone pursue me, only to know that I've gone J.D. Salinger. I want to perpetuate my misery and prove I can take it, I want to have one of those apartments you'd see in 1980's movies about New York City like in Ghostbusters or Big. Sometimes, I just want to know what its like. I base cities, or used to, on what kinda shows that the Dave Matthews Band would play at their venues. This is probably a pretty inaccurate way of going about things. Going about things is life isn't it? What's more alluring? Doing something really great and making it look effortless, or letting everyone in on the secret that it really took years...something special. When you see rock stars scribble on a page, or better yet, when you go the art museum, and you see an all but blank canvas, with 3 stripes, and its considered something of a masterpiece. If you let it bother you, then it will really bother you, to know that if anyone of us practiced day and night, we'd still never be Lebron James, cause he was born with it. Practice makes perfect...but its so vanilla, its so mundane, its so thankless.....its fucking practice. So, we are all chasing buzzes. Some in different ways, but I mean, you know that feeling after you get a compliment...or you get off, or you heard your favorite song...I mean, these are buzzes aren't they? I'd have to say some sort of chemical is probably released, and we feel a little different. Sure, its not shooting black tar heroin or anything, but its for sure that its something that we are all chasing, and the fact that some people get them on in different ways shouldn't have us advocate people. Its all something we want. Its means to and end...its about going about things. Music saved all of our lives. Love made its way into the guitar, and I think thats pretty fucking great. Profanity, and cigarettes, and the big fucking pat on the back. We all want to be the cool kids. We want to be the cool kids, but not like the ones on tv that make Screech feel bad, at least...maybe this is a different generation of cool kids. I hope. Well, it all depends on who you ask and what is cool I guess. Accusations and Generalizations of thousands of people that I don't know has to stop. I just always launch into tirades of great detail about shit I don't like on MTV, and at Keg parties. Reality, Its probably jealousy, its probably contempt, that different people have different disceranable talents and charms. But if nothing else, its that feeling in the back that tells me I'll never belong, but I'll certainly go about it trying to do my best Chandler Bing impression along the way. Girls love Friends...and Jack Johnson, and Outkast, and I guess who doesn't really? I want to be like the effortless rock stars and artists that scribble. Again, who doesnt? There never seems to be any responsilbilty that g oes along with being a savant or a prodigy....Its like that scene in Good Will Hunting when he's like "Do you have any idea how easy this is? Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to watch you fumblw around and fuck it up?" To be great at something...or to be happy? Do they go hand in hand? Here's hoping that all in our lives sometimes that we scriblle on the page and churn out Hamlet. Ramble. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, January 8th, 2004
1:45 am	The thing that at the end of everyones tongue.... ...at one point or another. I wasn't him I wasn't it. I'm starting to think I never was I'm starting to KNOW I never was. I wasn't him. I know I'll never be either. I. (Comment on this)
Thursday, January 1st, 2004
11:56 pm	Why did I do that? I always knew I wasn't meant for Heaven Heaven wasn't built for me. Politicians and judges pound their gavels. Their wives feel justified. The wood feels validated everyone wins. The newspaper says the war is over your heart says its just begun. And how can you muster a smile? When the condescenion pats on you on the back and says "Hey, its not the end of the world", when in your soul you only wished it was. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
11:01 pm	Lick it like a lollipop. Happy New Years. I'm sitting in my chair, buried behind a pillow. My stomach has butterflies and my heart is going a million miles an hour. A new year is upon us, and although it has been a tumultious one, there are many things that I can look back upon in the year that truly did make me smile. A brief but modest year in review, if you'll indulge me so. I'd have to say the beginning of the year held many highlights that I do look back upon and smile. Namely, a wonderful Valentine's day in which I met a very good friend of mine. This among other things will make it a hard one to top this year. An epic last minute trip to the city of Montreal is etched upon my mind, as the scenery and attitude has been unmatched to any American city I've ever visited, I know it would be a place that I'd like to frequent, and very much hope to visit again. A chance meeting on the longest day of the year led me to meet one of my heroes, LeRoi Moore, saxaphonist of the Dave Matthews Band. Mat and I ran to his golf cart and expressed our admiration for his melodic sense, and he and the rest of the band treated Blossom to my favorite of four shows, with Two Step closing the affair, breaking the Rapunzel curse. In December, I was able to meet a friend that I made over the internet named Josh who kindly picked me up to see Dave and Friends on the day that I finished my finals at school. Looking back on the year that I cursed at so many points, I so easily forget all the new relationships that I had forged over the last year, some of them destined to be life long friends. Is it human, or is it just my nature to accentuate bad, dwelling on it, while the world of good that should be compensating it sits there, waiting for me to pay it mind? Who knows. I did promise myself one thing however, that my New Years Resolution is to be less hard on myself. Without a shadow of a doubt, I can say that this has been one of the problems in my life that has stood the test of time, and being able to overcome it would make me feel all the better. So much easier said than done. I'm working on it though.... Cleveland State University is a closed chaper, at least temporarily. For reasons beyond my control at the moment, I can't take classes this semester. Thats okay. It gives me the oppurtunity to work and save up some money, and get a new perspective on life again. I would kick myself thinking about the routine of it all, here's a new take, and I just hope that I don't sqaunder it. Writers are suppose to get as much experience as possible, and at the very least, I'm hoping all of this is something of a character build. And speaking of writing, for anyone that cares, I've been giving serious thought to attempt writing Aaron Kaszian and I's creation "Brixton" again, with a little bit of a format change. Hopefully, more on it as it develops. For anyone that is interested, there was 3 episodes written last year by Aaron and yours truly, if you'd like to take a look, just give me a holler. You already know my screen name if you are checking this, right? What can I say? The things I look the most fondly upon from this last year still make their way into my life quite regularly. Alot of the bad feelings make themselves present too though...the shattered confidence, the financial instabilty, my mother's yearning for a better life that I only wish I could provide. These are all things that being dealt with make it life, the adversaties can only build us up. As much as I curse my pillow in the evening, I can only reconsider, knowing I don't have it nearly as hard as someone else, I still compare myself to the others that have so much more. Envy is a sin, maybe one of the biggest, and its one that plagues me so much that I find hard to get to sleep at night. At the end of the day though, I think even the best of us ask for something better. Whether that is right or wrong is indeterminate, I just think thats human nature. Last night set the tone however for a year that I hope makes 2003 pale in comparison. Thank you so much for indulging me. This is where I come to cry, and bury myself under a pillow, and know that you guys won't judge me. Lets all hope for so much more in 2004. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, December 18th, 2003
1:54 am	You You won't even read this. So, I'm James Zane, and I think anyone thats stumbled upon knows me pretty well right? If you know me well or very well, you'll know that I'm someone thats good at faking how I feel, or someone thats completely honest. Honesty has gotten me nowhere. It's going to get me the status with anyone that reads this that I'm something of a drama queen spoiled brat that wouldn't know a good thing if it came to them. I know it, I knew it, and I relished it. And that was the biggest mistake that perhaps has ever stumbled across 10470. I preach so much, with so much hate in my heart, and all the hate is nearly directed towards James Arthur Zane. People tell me things that I can only sense that they are biting their tongues or holding back on. Go ahead and say it.... Fat glory hog thats looking for compensation, looking for someone to tell him that he's going to be alright. OKay, thats what I do want, and I get frustrated when I get something that falls short. I know you guys have your certain perceptions toward me, and I know theres a certain amount of girls that look to me for advice and little else. My advice...act on your immaturity now, and your are bound to pay for it for the rest of your life. All the girls that apply, I LOVE you too much to sugarcoat it, and thats what I've done my whole life. Everytime I hear a song, a commericial...anything...I am taken back...and it sucks doesnt it? What have I done to deserve me watching my friends revel in the best times in my life, when I go home and plea to anyone that will listen that things will change for me. MTV makes me sick...MTV makes me think that these superficial people will some day fall to the wayside, and let real people come through, but thats a fools idealistic journey. Thats never going to happen, and the only consistency in my life is that I'm going to sit in my chair over break, as people call me and ask to hang out, and they can tell me about their stories of greatness. OKAY, want an admission? I'm fucking jealous, I will sit there with a grin my face, but my heart will ask "Hey James, why can't that be you?" and my brain's only answer will be..."you just werent good enough, you should accept your postion of advice giver to the lovely, to the active both men and women...and suck it up, because many have it worse" Well, selfish as it is, I want to give a conscience to the people that go through their lives, looking as it from hook up to hook up, from party to party, and as the thought enters your mind, maybe I'm missing something a little more, maybe you are....maybe life is more than answers, buzzes and vanity. Maybe its because James Zane is completely resentful, maybe not. I'm gonna go to bed with the satisfaction that probably no one is going to read this, or even comment on it, but if you don't, and you go on with your life, than fuck you. I won't see you at Southpark, I won't see you at the movies, you'll see me in my easy chair perpetuating my misery, selfishly thinking that maybe you guys will ask to walk in someone elses shoes for once. Drunk, I used to show your pictures at parties It did you too much justice. (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, December 3rd, 2003
9:32 pm	"Television Sets the Standard.Remember that" -Pat Cleary, friend (Often that is his away message) Recalling an argument I had with my mother, she said to me "You are so concerned with image!" I was taken aback, this isn't the normal observation, or criticism made by your parents, usually by a peer of some sort, but nonetheless I was stopped in my tracks. Offended at first, I took a second and couldn't respond. The only thing that came to me was that she was right. "Mom, I'd argue with you if I could" The idea image is omnipresent, and there doesn't appear to be anyway of escaping from it. People that think they are escaping from the Abercrombie nation find themselves to the thrift store, which of course can be argued as being just as trendy, if not more so, then buying retail items. I get the sense the fact that when people say "I don't care" the actual probablity of them meaning it, and not actually being concerned with what other people think, is becoming more and more of a rarity. I know thats a statement I've never been able to utter without it containing some fallacy. But, people will say it, and try and seperate themselves from the pack once again by being different or ostensibly uncaring. Apathetic is an image too, and its certainly far from unique. So, what do we do? I mean, is it that big of a problem? I dont know. Is image a plague, or is it a way of self-expression? Sometimes I find my image to be conflicting admittedly, a quasi-hippie with leftist politics that wears retail clothes probably made in sweatshops is a conflict of interest. The solution would probably be either to buy strictly American or sew my own clothes, but then I would look silly, right? Basically, what I'm saying is that I'm as guilty as anyone. The only thing we can do through all of it I suppose is to be ourselves. The world we watch on television is not real, nor has it ever been, nor will it ever be. There is nothing real about the real world. People with model good looks, impressive track records of sexual partners, orgies in hot tubs, and drink after drink. I think at some point we all wish this was the Real World, but we all know that one is either about 9-5 jobs, brutal class schedules or perhaps raising a family. Yeah, its not glamourous, certainly is real though right? Girls...life isn't Sex and the City. Guys....life isn't a beer commericial, or the man show. We all know this, and I know its simply an escape. Television is a powerful tool, and sometimes the lines are blurred. MTV gives out the image that girls have to be svelte and sexy and extremely happy go lucky to be given any sort of notice. Guys have to be brooding, brash, cocky, with a Tom Cruise smile to be a Generation Y hero. Why don't they tell us to pick up a fucking book? That should be their job, they've got an extreme amount of pull over our age bracket, they should use their power for good. Fuck telling us that cigarettes are bad for us, I'm pretty sure thats been beaten into our heads since age 5. We should be versed in the works of J.D Salinger before 50 cent. There shouldn't be anything cool about a murderous, mysoginistic thug if you ask me, even if you can dance to his stuff. Its tough. I mean, Christ...we are living in a world of war, recession, racism, and too many other problems to count, and I know that this isn't a top priority by any means. Its just that we are such an intelligent crowd, far more than the advertisers and cable television will ever give us credit for. I am concerned with image. Probably would've done things alot different in the past if I had the courage to act as if my reputation was on the line. Thats a regret, and thats a regrettable action. Its a matter of keeping all things around us in check, and keeping our souls in this world. Maybe I'm paranoid, but sometimes I get the feeling that someone's rooting for me to lose. The world, it feels like, wants us to lose. The one thing we must never lose is our goals, and our dreams, our focus, and the love for the people around us who will accept us no matter what our image is that day. Haha, it probably appears my image is to write heavy handed editorials about the pitfalls of being us, but managing to ge through with Bon Jovi circa 1986-like optimism. And my friends, I'd argue with you if I could. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, November 27th, 2003
1:46 pm	An Important Embrace Happy Thanksgiving. Although its silly for me to presume that anyone will really be spending this holiday online confined during the hours of Thanksgiving, you can't accuse me of never having holiday greetings. So, I had many oppurtunites to write other journal entries, I actually wrote one about a week ago about the arrogance of rock stars and other random things, but it got deleted. Oh well, it must have not meant to be I suppose. Also, there was one that I had planned to write for my birthday, but my mind was elsewhere the days preceeding and following, but now I think that its time for me to map out the words that have been on my mind for the following few days. Oh yeah, this is what I want for my birthday: I want to have the mystique of a recluse, but the warmth of a regular The exuberance of a rock star but the reserve of a quiet father. The accomplishment of a scholar but the experience of a drifter. but I think thats something were all kinda strivin' for. So, I think that birthdays are something that really depend upon the person has to what kind of deal they want to make it. Some people are fairly quiet about it, and don't think of it as much, but I'll be honest, birthday's strike a particular chord with me, and I tell everyone I know. Perhaps its a bit immature, but once a year, its good to make a little more noise than the rest, that's just my philosphy. But the thought thats been accompanying me the most is the fact that I am now 21. It's the inevitable thought that comes with any birthday, especially now that it would take 4 hands to count, is that we are getting older. We can't have yesterday back, and for the last year, I've been chasing yesterday like there was a twnety dollar bill and a beautiful woman there. There might have been one of those things, but I can only think of things that I might have missed by not embracing the day instead. Embrace Today. This is the important embrace, but theres more to it than that. This is the celebration. We are the generation, and we are the age! I recall so many conversations with a dear friend of mine named Dave Leggett, where we would sit, and indulge our selves and think, "you know, another renaissance is due." We'd take another drag of our cigarettes, take another sip of wine and allow our minds to wonder for a second, but always coming back to that. I don't think I ever took it as serious as him, but these last few weeks have had me absolutely reeling. Beethoven composed as a young child, King Tut ruled at 9. These facts are simply impossible to ignore. Yes, Beethoven was a progidy, but let's look at this at a more personal and relatable level. Eddie Vedder wrote "Better Man" at age 14. A product of torment bestowed on his mother, an ode to what she was willing to take. Dave Matthews wrote his best work in his early twenties when they were his most personal, he wasn't a seasoned rock star or even that good of a guitar player yet, but there is something about that age where he was able to articulate his feelings through voice, lyrics and arrangement. The Beatles played Sullivan and Shea Stadium before they were 25. Simply put, the Beatles changed the world. John Lennon is perhaps the most prolific and poetic man that's ever walked the Earth, and as he stood with his bandmates, the turned around and watched the product that came of them. A changed world of music, A changed world. Period. And on an even more personal level. Watch Mat Wendelken play guitar, or have a conversation with Amir Darr. Try competing with Joe Lenahan and Ian Holodnak as they shake the room with laughter. Experience the artwork of Kevin Steigerwald and Chris Kucherak. Look no further than the works of Matt Cantrell and Justin Zrenner. Simply smoke a cigarette and get down to business with Dave Leggett and Joe Jaris without cracking the biggest smile, I dare you. No less Poetic are the strategic minds of Tim Binder, always in control of the situation, and Aaron Kaszian, the strageist that catches every angle that you'll never see. And try and tell me that you aren't in the presence of greatness. I fucking dare you. I dare you again. This is the age, and this is the time. People our age have changed the world before, and it needs someone to change it again. Embrace the day. Embrace the moment. Embrace Yourself. Embrace the word. -James (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 18th, 2003
10:09 pm	Distance, Matthews, and the Big League Chew So, I'd like to preface everything with an apology to the most important people in the world. My close friends. You know who you are and regretfully, I know how I've been. I've been exceedingly distant, and well, not myself. To that, there are many factors that you know all too well, but at the same time, it would be incredibly ignorant of me to say that you haven't gone without your share of hardships recently, and have all taken it truly like the men you are. For that, and not that reason alone, I look up to you guys more than I could ever type. So, let me explain yet again, my refrences to Dave Matthews. I know, it seems like my refrence pool is as deep as a wading pool, but hang on! It applies, I promise it does. On March 23rd, 1993, the last Dave Matthews Band concert featuring keyboardist Peter Griesar was held. Simply known as the people that know the band closely as the "Big League Chew" show. It's considered one of the best shows in their 12 year history and with good reason, everyone is on, the energy is up, but at the same token, its very emotional because know one wants to see Peter go. The boys were on the cusp of popularity, touring out of the state of Virginia, and Peter decided that this wasn't the life for him. He left the band of his own volition, and never looked back. To this day, he is hounded by people, asking him of his regrets, and has never been able to drop the title "former keyboardist of the Dave Matthews Band" His replies, are always simple. Usually something along the lines of just not feeling it, or being into it like the other guys. He's joked that internet junkies of the Dave Matthews Band (yours truly) know him and his work better than he knows himself. Fair enough Mr. Griesar. Although honestly....I can never tell... Is he being genuine? Or is he saving face? Its always came up in discussion, is Peter kicking himself? It never dawned on me exactly the repercussions of his exit until earlier this evening. As my dear friend Ian and I watched DMB's central park performance, 100,000 plus packed in tight in NYC, I sat in my chair thinking, "Damn look at that, look it how far they've come" and Peter entered my head. The life he could have had, the adoration, the millions upon millions, the life. And now, he's been reduced to a trivia question answer. Mr. Greisar, if you are truly happy, I tip my hat to you sir, I really really really fucking do. To life live like that, everyday in your face, what you've passed up, and look at it and say with beyond a shadow of a doubt, "yeah, I know, big deal", then that to me is the grandest example of self-fulfilled happines on the most extreme of scale. Its something that I know, that I wouldn't have the strength to bear. The most minute details and regrets live inside my head and remind me that I'm far as from perfect as it comes, and Peter is faced with the biggest "Woulda Coulda Shoulda" this side of Pete Best. Man, I really think we should all look to this guy for inspiration. Too many moments go by where I don't, and who knows if thats ever gonna change, but if nothing else, I'll look to the man that coulda had it all, but has is happiness instead. A thought popped into my head while writing this, that I was having a discussion with my dear friend Mat about this very online journal. He asked me, you really put all of your personal thoughts for everyone to see? I guess I do. But the irony of all this, is that Dave opens up the afformentioned Big League Chew show with a solo performance of "Heathcliff's Haiku Warriors" which features the line "I want everyone to pour their soul out, on an open page." And as I take my hero's advice, I must say, that its people like Mat Wendelken, Ian Holodnak, and Peter Griesar and countless other friends that give me the strength to that very line that Mr. Matthews suggested. Thank you. P.S. Pete Best was the Beatles first drummer. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, November 17th, 2003
7:38 pm	San Andreas I feel like I'm forgetting something from the other room, can't get up anyways... San Andreas- Holding others to standards I'd probably never hold to myself Talking like I hear to sound of my own noise. Judging the kids on the tv smoking cigarettes on the couch I'd do the same thing in their position. Preaching forgivness with hate in my heart. My faults may not shake the Earth like the san andreas but its enough to give me pause. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, November 16th, 2003
12:30 pm	Julia Grey The following isn't poetry, the following isn't anything I've been working on, just some random thoughts as I was lying in bed willing myself to face the day. Anyone that knows their Dave Matthews Band folklore knows of a woman known Julia Grey. Julia Grey is a woman that Dave Matthews asked to marry her 3 times, and rejected his proposal all 3 advances. This undoubtedly affected Dave and his music for the rest of his life. "I'll Back you Up", and its polar opposite "Halloween" co-exist in a realm of rare songs that are the most heavily requested in the DMB catalog, and with good reason. The Former, IBYU, is a stirringly beautiful love song, the first song written by the man, tells the story of man who will give his all for this woman, requesting that she do as he please, because he'll back her up. The latter, Halloween, is an exceedingly angry song that chronicles his anger for Julia, a revenge song, a big FUCK YOU. And haven't we all wanted to do this? The big FUCK YOU, wow, if no one has ever thought this, they are a liar. But you know what? It's the person that deals us away that breaks our heart the most. Learning what I did about power in my Communications and Conflict Class, The Power Principle works like this, the more interested you are in a person, the more power they have over you, if you appear to be the least interested, you have more power. This is called the Principle of Least Interest, and it couldn't be closer to the truth. Like on Seinfeld as George who tries so hard to get the woman that hates him to like him, we yearn so much to be liked, to be a central character in their life, and the fact that they don't care gives them so much power. I digress, but thats okay...its my journal and you don't have to read it, even though at some point I enthusiastically asked you to. Back to the subject at hand. Dave's met someone since named Ashely Harper that he's since made his wife, but one can only ask themselves if Dave still thinks about Julia, and if she came back into his life, what he'd think. Especially now that he's married with children, I wonder what conclusion he would come to. Guys always accuse girls of going for the asshole. Bitter guys sit and dispense advice the best they can to the girls without biting their tongues and coming out and asking "why me, why don't you like me? what does that guy have that I don't?" but the answer is usually this bitter kid : they don't have love handles or a bunch of acne or fucked up teeth or one of the many other answers that might suffice. You can be exciting and insightful, but that can only get you so far. But before I put all the blame on the girls, guys are no different. Guys wouldn't be talking to these attractive girls with boyfriend problems if they didn't think that they didn't have some sort of slight chance of being the proverbial "Ben Stiller or Anthony Michael Hall" who is going to say the right thing to turn the tides. That happens only because the people that writing the movies are the same kids that dispensed the advice all those years, and played out their fantasties on paper. And for the simple fact that in reality, Anthony Michael Hall and Ben Stiller don't have this problem in real life, they can be the big assholes all they want. Did I mention I'm a writer? Ahh, to try and tie this altogether...I know I came into all of this with a point to make. Ah, where was I, Least Intrest, Dave Matthews, the bitter and valid complaints...This sums up LIFE pretty much, well for me anyways, and this is what I identify with. Listen, a week from now is my birthday. Last year I spent it with Beth and her family, and while taking her home, I heard Grey Street on the radio for the first time. Grey Street, like Julia Grey...Grey came along and Beth came along. They both have been a great source of inspiration, and they both won't be forgotten. It's going to be hard to top that last year, and it's hard thinking about Beth and her new boyfriend. My friends and her friends and defintley HER think I'm crazy for still thinking about it, but you know what? I'm not too sure I care, I've become James Zane today because the James Zane today takes a long time to get over things, and takes a hard time to heart. Because nothing not hard...isn't worth doing. Go tell your mother you love her. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, November 14th, 2003
3:05 pm	Considerably A close friend and I discuss as the surface changes yet considerably stays the same "What were we thinking" he asked, so genuine. So idealistic we'd throw it all away gladly for a slightly veiled chance to have it back. (Comment on this)
Thursday, October 30th, 2003
10:52 pm	I Wanna tell you what a state I'm in... ...Ohio. Ha, I'm hilarious So, I must say, its been a long time. I don't think anyone has ever read one of these and god knows I've written about 2 before. Shit, even the name is out dated, the only people that really call me Zaner are the people that talked to me in Senior year and fell outta touch with me. But, either way, I've become somewhat public with my feelings as of recent anyways, so I might as well update with the world ( the world of course being the 15-20 people that probably check my profile). But, I was in bed last night, and I wanted to construct a list of people to thank for shaping me in some way to becoming James Arthur Zane. The list will be big, but honest to goodness, you all had your part. In no order, cause I love ya'll. Dave Matthews Band Tim Reynolds Coldplay Radiohead Pearl Jam Cast & Crew of Seinfeld The Police (the band) The Police (the pricks that bust kids) The Police (The Karma Variety) Cast & Crew of Sports Night Casr & Crew of the Simpsons Beth Phillips Dave Leggett Joe Lenahan Joe Jaris Joe Starek Nikki Elias Pat Cleary Josh Charles Peter Krause Amir B. Fantastic Kristin Towarnicke Chris Dilirento (I always spell your name wrong dog) Chris Kucherak Chris Durken Mat Wendelken Ian Holodnak Aaron Kaszian Jon Leyden Amanda Keen Andy Beherend Timothy Binder Evan Touch Down Moore Abby Pekich Bridget Franklin Bridget Germana John Worsencroft Kevin Steigerwald Adam Steigerwald Adam Zane Richard Zane Molly Zane JoAnn Zane Jimmy Dunnell that girl that worked at Lids Katie Ruggerio Jessie Menhart Chrissy Meros Maria Meros Megan Stack Nicole Preautl John Penuel Josh (don't know your last name dog)Price The Beatles Dialated Peoples (not really) Berto Pacheco Niko Torres Nate Wendelken Josh Wendelken Barb Frizche Justin Zrenner Matt Cantrell Nick "coppah phish" Labyk Liz "The Personality" Popis Anthony DelVecchio Tim Cornhoff Wayne Berger Liz Booher Terri Donofrio Liz Dimotsis Tiffany Fontana Scotty Blaze Gary Holodnak Jessie Wagner Jesi, "I'm chasing her last name as we speak" Hypes Gina Ruggerio Mike Melchiorre Chris Lindsey Derek Dietz Chris Zdreavecky Jason Grenig Riblett, The Groovy Two's, the Forever Brothers (to those who know, they all belong together) Kevin Kennedy Jayna Panchal Jasmine Panchal Priscilla Nichefache Ryan Smalley Ed "I'm gonna tell him where he can stick it" Calzitti Sogol I don't know her last name, but I only know one, and I'm assuming she knows its her Ashraf Sabe Amanda Muha Stacy Kasberg That one eyed guy I ride the bus with (seriously) Gary Kovach Mike Dory Rebecca Oven Gary Mauer Christopher Laubenthal Conan O' Brien Ryan Dobroka Kristen Hauberg Angelique Jaris Christa Gray (It should be Grey) Holly Biyrini (It should be HOlly Zane, ha! kidding) Steve Kwan Melissa Metzger Katie Conroy Darren Zidek and Emily Bebenroth (She told me to lighten up, she was wrong, I'm awesome as is, and I think that she should take things MORE seriously) If I missed you, it wasn't on purpose, I probably missed many, and if you feel jilted,let me know, you probably make a great case. P.S. I have made a horrible mistake and callously forgot a great friend in Liz Dimotsis. I met her at a very crucial time in my life, and even when I thought I couldn't get any lower on myself, Liz was there in photgraphy to make me feel I wasn't so bad. I even had a little crush on her. To Liz, and to Terri, who for no good reason eluded my list the first time, I apologize wholeheartedly. It wasnt outta spite, my mindly simply musta been elsewhere. Current Mood: thankful (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, April 15th, 2002
12:40 pm	Hey everyone, its a fine monday afternoon in Parma Heights, Ohio...and is anyone else is afraid to go and face the world? I know its the last thing in the world I feel like doing, but since I missed all my classes last week due to illness, I'm going to be playing catch-up for quite sometime. Aaron, or as you all may know him as Kasz216, are going out job hunting this afternoon in probably a little bit. We are going to try to apply at bookstores, perhaps the most chill laid back establishments in Parmatown Mall. For some reason, I'm just so nervous today...I think its mostly school, in fact, I know it is, a few reports are due, and getting to be crunch time, and soon classes for the spring semester will be over, I may pick up a few more in the summer. Today, I just feel a little bit off, and I am trying my best to get myself back on Earth... As this jounal asked about music, I'm currently listening to Dave Matthews Band, Busted Stuff. This was one of the original songs on the fabled "Lillywhite Sessions", but is now going to be the bands featured release of the album of the same name, coming out on July 2nd. Dave Matthews Band is my obsession, and I assure anyone that would listen to them for more songs than "Ants Marching", "Crash Into Me", or "The Space Between", they would be very pleasently suprised, for I always rant that the band is ill-represnsented by their hits. If you want Dave at his best, check out songs like #41, Dancing Nancies, or Halloween. I'm getting myself into a tizzy about this Lindsay girl...I actually talked to someone about it right after my last jounral entry, and she no longer has her boyfriend. This girl is way too much for me...anyone that saw me, then saw her would know what I was talking about. Her friend is going to talk to her however, and that has been posessing my thoughts like nothing else. Hey, whatever happens happens, I'm just trying to not get my hopes up. My friend Mat has being going through some troubles, and it kills me to see him upset. Yesterday however we had a good long discussion about what was bothering him, and I think we may be getting closer to the bottom. He is the greatest of human beings, and I won't rest until he realizes it. I just want to thank God for everyone in my life, my family and friends are among the 5 best ensemble casts according to People magazine. Well, haha, no is really to going to read this except for me and Aaron anyway, but when I get famous, and sell these journal entries to kids on the internet, they'll know that I got by with more than a little help from my friends Current Mood: contemplative (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, April 14th, 2002
3:18 pm	Hey, well after all of the bureaucratic red tape, I am finally getting to enter my first journal entry. This idea was recommended to me by a dear friend who I am very sure would like to remain nameless, and so they shall. Its been a very intresting time in life at the moment. Well, thats a bit of a stretch, but I still have to talk about something right? Well, the first thing that I'll mention in my life is the oppostie sex. First, there is this girl named Megan that I met at the University of Toledo, all the way back in January. We showed intrest in each other that first weekend, and ever since, our relationship has been limited to two dates (when she has been back in town) and talking over the internet. The initial excitment of meeting someone new has long worn off, and my feelings about this girl are lukewarm at best. She is very cute I think, but couldn't be further from my type. She also played a nasty fucking trick on me, that I think I'll elaborate more on in perhaps further entries Moving on, yet still staying on topic, is the pipe dream of girls. There is this other girl that goes to my college, who is a friend of a friend, and is simply unreal. Of course, she has a boyfriend, but she is a very attractive girl who knows that I think so. We hardly know each other, actually...very very barely. It happens. Last night, I went out with my very good friend John from Case Western Reserve, along with these girls Abby, Jessie, Bridget and Sarah. Sarah has a bf, shes pretty cute though. Abby, also very good looking, but no boyfriend, I think she is interested in my friend John. Bridget, she's very interested in one of my dear friends, so again...no dice. That leaves only Jessie, who I'm not too sure about, she was pretty cute too, but I dont know if she was feeling my vibe at all. I imagine that she wasn't, but I'll keep the good people at LiveJournal updated. I had a dream, right before I woke up, that involved a girl whom I was obsessed with for a good part of my high school career. The people who know me...hell, even the people that don't, know how much I was in love with this girl. The dream played out alot like reality, I met her, but she blew me off for another guy. Hey it happens you know, she has no idea that I still think about her occasionaly, and I guess thats just how life is sometimes. Well, I have way too much information for just one journal entry, so I think I'm going to spread it out a little. This one was primarily about girls, and there will be more themed like this to come, but for now, my good friends, you have a good day, and happy reading. (Comment on this)