About Me
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i like to think that in my past life, i was a cat.
i do not like being stolen from, so please, dont steal anything on my page.
this is your life, and its ending one minute at a time. You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We are all part of the same compost heap. We are the all singing, all dancing, crap of the world.
im jordan. i think too much and im still a little kid. i never act my age. and ive never looked it either. i have lots of secrets. people watching is my favorite thing to do, but im not a creep. life just excites me, and im always asking questions. im always analyzing things, picking apart words and numbers and music notes. youll probably think im neurotic and out of my mind. im extremely awkward, and stutter when im nervous. im curious as to how things work. quantum physics, and details of life. i beleive dreams have a meaning and purpose. everything happens for a reason. everything has a meaning. most people say "music is my life". but that statement is very vague. why is it your life? how does it affect you? not only do i listen to music. but i create it. i am not obsessed. i am inspired. i am not a musician. im an artist. i do not listen. i analyze.
i am what i am, judge me if you will. but i know what kind of person i have become, after 19 years of finding myself. you can try to impress all you want, become popular in high school, and make friends with every kid. but when high school is over, and you are put out in the real world, none of that matters anymore. i have stopped trying to impress people, trying to make friends, and trying to make people happy. so take your high school drama some place else.
i am not going to sit here, and tell you that i am an individual. look at me, i am different! i am a unique snowflake! no. we are all people, doing the exact same fucking thing. no one is unique, so stop trying so hard.
i am much smarter than you think, and i have been through a lot in my life. i have made a lot of mistakes that i am not proud of. but i love the person that i have become.
I am pilling up some unread books under my bed, And I really think Ill never read again.
No concentration, Just a white disorder, Everywhere around me, You know Im so tired now.
But dont worry, I often go to dinners and parties With some old friends who care for me, Take me back home and stay.
Monochrome floors, monochrome walls, Only absence near me, Nothing but silence around me. Monochrome flat, monochrome life, Only absence near me, Nothing but silence around me.
Sometimes I search an event, Or something to remind me, But Ive really got nothing in mind.
Sometimes I open the windows And listen people walking in the down streets. There is a life out there.
i will never forget the night of april 29 2009. my life changed forever. when i grow up, i want to be just like guillame yann tiersen.
april.4.2008 since the day i was created, i have had the same skin, eyes, and heart. for eighteen years. 6396 days. isnt it amazing to think about that? i have learned so much about this thing called "life". i know much more than i did 17 years ago. 10 years ago. 5 years ago. one year ago. one hour ago. every moment of every day that i live, i hear something that my ears have never heard before. i say something that has never left my mouth before. i experience something new each time i open my eyes for the first time in the morning, and live my life. i like asking those questions that seem impossible to answer. complexity makes me think harder, and makes my imagination grow. how many days have you been alive? have many days have you been living on this planet? does it scare you to know that you are a part of something so much larder than yourself? i am going to die. you are going to die. whether it be a week from now, or 50 years from now. does that make your heart beat a bit faster in that chest of yours? i have begun asking myself more and more of these questions during this reclusive state that i have been in for some time now. i do not, however, posses the answers. i ask these questions to others, in hopes of finding real truth. but maybe some things are meant to be an eternal mystery. i like being asked questions though. ask me anything, and i will answer truthfully. we should not be afraid of our truths. in my eyes, flaws are beautiful. imperfections are what make us humans, therefor, making us perfect. scars are beautiful to me. it reminds me that we have the ability to heal. oh, what a delicate tangled web we weave. i have always hated that saying, as it is so disgustingly vague. but i think i am beginning to understand it more and more. i think it is remarkable how i cannot understand things that come so easily to most of us. yet i want to know whether ghosts are real, or why our bodies allow us to cry. my thoughts are peculiar, and at times, almost childlike. my mind is abstract, but this is jordan. and although i have changed and molded into this person, this being, that i am today, i am still the same person i was 6396 days ago.
april.27.2009 i have wanted to be many things in my lifetime. i have had many dreams, some attainable, some childish. but either way, i wanted to become something. i have always wanted to be a spoken word poet. i want to give you goosebumps. i want my voice stuck in your head the next day while you are at work. i want the sound of finger snapping to ring through my ears like the way the wind sounds when it blows just right. cut my heart out into little hors d'oeuvres size pieces so that everyone can get a taste. i have been inspired by so many names. buddy wakefield, anis mojgani, andrea gibson, sage francis, derrick brown, and randy darris. there is no better feeling than when your eyes water from happiness, and an overwhelming feeling of illumination. i have always wanted to be a gypsy. i want to travel without a destination. i want to make up a different name for every city i go to. i want the echo of my violin bounce and dance off of buildings and bricks and skin. i want to dance barefoot with my bow and violin, my pen and paper. i want to live off of adventure and unfamiliarity. i sang music on the streets of portland once. at first, i had my eyes closed the whole time, hoping i hit the right frets on my guitar. soon enough, i was singing my heart out with lyrics i had written for everyone to hear. the feeling was exhilarating. i didnt care that i had no money in my guitar case at the end of the day. i had fun. what do you want to be when you grow up? will you become a financial advisor, or will you become a superhero? will you be a doctor, or will you run away and join the circus? we all had dreams once of being peter pan, or an astronaut. a rockstar, or an artist. dont ever give up your dreams. ever. you never know where they might end up taking you.
If I could offer you one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience... I will dispense this advice now. Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh, nevermind, you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until theyve faded. But trust me, in 20 years youll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you cant grasp now, how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are NOT as fat as you imagine. dont worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday. Do one thing everyday that scares you. Sing. Dont be reckless with other peoples hearts. Dont put up with people who are reckless with yours. Floss. Dont waste your time on jealousy; sometimes youre ahead, sometimes youre behind. The race is long, and in the end, its only with yourself. Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you suceed in doing this, tell me how. Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements. Stretch. Dont feel guilty if you dont know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didnt know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives; some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still dont. Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees, youll miss them when theyre gone. Maybe youll marry, maybe you wont. Maybe youll have children, maybe you wont. Maybe youll divorce at 40. Maybe youll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, dont congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either - your choices are half chance, so are everybody elses. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can... dont be afraid of it, or what other people think of it... its the greatest instrument youll ever own. Dance... even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room. Read the directions, even if you dont follow them. Do NOT read beauty magazines they will only make you feel UGLY. Get to know your parents, you never know when they might be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings; theyre your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future. Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young. Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel. Accept certain inalienable truths. Prices will rise, Politicians will philander, you too will get old. And when you do, youll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders. Respect your elders. Dont expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe youll have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out. Dont mess too much with your hair, or by the time youre 40, it will look 85. Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia; dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than its worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.
