The Ghost Of Music (original) (raw)

| The Ghost Of Music: Messages From The Underground | [**entries**|friends|calendar] | | ----------------------------------------------------- | ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |

::The Creator::

Jason. I'm a 20 year old college student. What am I into? Pretty much the norm of abnorm...music, art, movies. I'm unabashingly liberal. Writing is my release, I do it frequently. I'm a compulsive runner in warmer weather. I'm funny and outgoing...to and extent. I go to Oakland University. I grew up in Lake Orion.

Random Song.

She Thinks She Needs Me -
Andy Griggs

She thinks I walk on water
She thinks I hung the moon
She tells me every morning,
"They just don't make men like you"

She thinks I've got it together
She swears I'm as tough as nails
But I don't have the heart to tell her
She don't know me that well

She don't know how much I need her
She don't know I'd fall apart
Without her kiss, without her touch
Without her faithful, loving arms
She don't know that it's all about her
She don't know I can't live without her
She's my world, she's my everything
And she thinks she needs me
Sometimes she cries on my shoulder
When she's lying next to me
But she don't know that when I hold her
That she's really holding me, holding me

She don't know how much I need her
She don't know I'd fall apart
Without her kiss, without her touch
Without her faithful, loving arms
She don't know that it's all about her
She don't know I can't live without her
She's my world, she's my everything
And she thinks she needs me

Yeah, and the funny thing is
She thinks she's the lucky one

She don't know how much I need her
She don't know I'd fall apart
Without her kiss, without her touch
Without her faithful, loving arms
She don't know that it's all about her
She don't know I can't live without her
She's my world, she's my everything
And she thinks she needs me

She thinks I walk on water
She thinks I hung the moon

SONG BY ME!

Perfect Just How She Is By: Jason Mick

Perfect Just How She Is By: Jason Mick **AH! a Tessa song!!** Dedication: Tessa (duh)...I love you so much!! .............................................. I told myself I would never
Let myself fall in love again
But when I awake its you
I think of each and every morning
Though it seems impossible
I love you more each and every day
You are my one and only girl,
I'd have it no other way.
I feel like I could take on
The world when you hold my hand
And I know that I'm the luckiest guy
In all the land
Somehow I know that we'll be
Together for many many years
With you at my side
I'll never have any fears.

And, I would never change a thing,
Cuz you're perfect for me
Now.
I would never change a thing,
Because I don't even
Know how
I got you,

I love you, Tessa, darling,
And I swear it's true,
I would never ever lie about this,
Or anything to you.

I've got to get used
To thinking about you,
Every single minute,
Cuz if theres a thought
In my head,
I'm pretty sure you're in it.

And I would never change a thing,
Cuz you're perfect for me
Now.
I would never change a thing,
Because I don't even
Know how
I got you,

I love you, Tessa, darling,
And I swear it's true,
Darling I'd do any any anything
Anything for you..

I've got to get used
To thinking about you,
Every single minute,
Cuz if theres a thought
In my head,
I'm pretty sure you're in it.

I put your picture up
watching over my bed at night
Cuz when you're looking over me
I know everythings alright
I miss you more each time you Slip out of my sight
I love you more girl,
More than you'll ever know.

So when I start to get mad
I'll just think of you
Just thinking of your pretty smile
Will surely pull me through
I can't explain quite how
You do what you do
To me
But you're utterly utterly amazing.

I would never change a thing,
Cuz you're perfect for me
Now.
I would never change a thing,
Because I don't even
Know how
I got you,

I love you, Tessa, darling,
And I swear it's true,
I would never ever lie about this,
Or anything to you.

I've got to get used
To thinking about you,
Every single minute,
Cuz if theres a thought
In my head,
I'm pretty sure you're in it.

And I would never change a thing,
Cuz you're perfect for me
Now.
I would never change a thing,
Because I don't even
Know how
I got you,

I love you, Tessa, darling,
And I swear it's true,
Darling I'd do any any anything
Anything for you..

I've got to get used
To thinking about you,
Every single minute,
Cuz if theres a thought
In my head,
I'm pretty sure you're in it.

I would not trade,
For all the money in this world,
The privelege to say that
You're all mine girl.
I'll always try my very best and hardest
To make you happy,
Since when you laugh its the most amazing
Sight I ever did see!

And I appologize if my writing
Is not emphatic enough
To convey the depth and sincerity
Of my love.
I just want you to know
How much you mean to me
You don't have to ever change
Or put on a show for me.

I would never change a thing,
Cuz you're perfect for me
Now.
I would never change a thing,
Because I don't even
Know how
I got you,

I love you, Tessa, darling,
And I swear it's true,
I would never ever lie about this,
Or anything to you.

I've got to get used
To thinking about you,
Every single minute,
Cuz if theres a thought
In my head,
I'm pretty sure you're in it.

And I would never change a thing,
Cuz you're perfect for me
Now.
I would never change a thing,
Because I don't even
Know how
I got you,

I love you, Tessa, darling,
And I swear it's true,
Darling I'd do any any anything
Anything for you..

I've got to get used
To thinking about you,
Every single minute,
Cuz if theres a thought
In my head,
I'm pretty sure you're in it.

I would never change a thing,
You're incredible
And you're mine.

My Thank yous.

I would like to thank the override_helper community. They have a lot of good resources. I'd like to thank the tons of good html and css tutorials online. I'd also like to thank chestersmom, for showing what crazy things can be done in lj Thanks Amanda! Your awesome site inspired me.

Technical Sh*t.

All Artwork and settings are done by me, the imagemap is made in photoshop. I coded all the overrides myself. As it says above, this layout is best viewed with screen settings of 1024x768 in Internet Explorer. I'm still learning this stuff myself, if you have a question ask me, but keep it short unless youre talking to me on aim..

	[25 Aug 2007|09:30pm]
[ **mood** | tired ] Another story. If you are viewing this in the main page (the one with the black background) this will be squeezed into a horrible little column. Do yourself a favor and click the comment link to view it on a nice white backdrop.Anyways, I wrote this based on another prompt "how vain a tabernacle is man" and I also attempted to use the words "smoke, gray, ocean,and glass" as the prompt suggested. To add to the fund, I have written the story from a female perspective, which is an added challenge which I am uncertain how well I met. The story is rather depressing, as the prompt is rather cynical. I hope you enjoy it anyhow, and enjoy these observations on the state of humanity through the eyes of Claire (the narrator! =OP ).xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Reflections of my days in the city... By: Jason Mick 2007.08.25 When looked upon critically, the ways of man are such an unseemly picture that the viewer may be moved to illness. What drives the men and women around you is seldom hope and idealism, rather, it is chiefly the competition of two bipolar desires, each a pinnacle of nihilism- the desire to worship oneself and a desire to be worshiped. Both are equally loathsome, for the sad fact is that whether realized or denied, they are guaranteed to make the subject equally unhappy. There is a strange emptiness in these desires, and it wears one down over time, until they are but a hollow shell of the initial joy and inquisitiveness their mind once held as a child. I feel that no one in this city can truly deny that they have opened their heart and filled it with these evils. In my two years living here, walking these streets, I have come to see man at its worse. I have laid eyes upon the grandiose cathedrals of bodies of movies stars and starlets as they float down the street, playing coy and pretending to hate the attention and spectacle that surrounds them, as they encounter flocks of adoring fans and zealous photographers. Perhaps some really do hate it, but I am resigned to believe, pessimistically, that to most it is an addiction, which they must always feign disinterest in. It is an addiction that is as timeless as man, the kind that makes your stomach churn violently, that makes your eyes well with tears, the kind that makes you stay up for hours at night, tired and desperate. They are by no means lone villains in this evil. No, as I stated, I suspect almost everyone in this town shares these same passions and diseases of spirit. I too am on the same quest as those stars, I am simply less successful, less superficially attractive, or in all likelihood, simply less lucky then them. I am one in a pile of bodies that forms the foundation of this industry, this industry which is the greatest demonstration of how vain a tabernacle man truly is. And the saddest fact, is that despite realizing this horrid truth, I can bring myself not to leave. I currently am sitting before a large mirror trimmed in gold depictions of leaves and flowers, putting on my makeup in the backroom. Golden bulbs glow a weak and dusty light down upon my face. As I put the pen of my eyeliner to my eye I accidentally jab myself, as I am prone to do countless times. As I have learned, you blink back the tears and continue on, until the result unfolds--a clean line of black. I look at the mirror and think, what a testament this strange apparatus is to narcissism. It is no wonder that this was one of the first inventions of man. While he was still struggling to forge crude steel from melted rock ore, under the dark gray smoke of the bellows, he had discovered a wondrous secret. By taking a finely shined plate of silver, he could see his reflection. Of course, the idea was by no means original. No, I suppose countless men and women had gazed down into pools of water and felt a tendril of pride or love at Viewing their handsome reflections. Still, it was a significant testament to this tendency of man, that such great lengths would be taken to make a device that is essentially nothing more than a tool of worship, a means to appreciate and decorate ones body in whatever happens to be the garish fashion of the time. I suppose we women have more share of the blame. In those medieval times, the rich woman lived a hellish life, but it was also a boring one. While the men went forth and were preoccupied with survival, we sat in the halls. It is a small wonder that we grew fond of this mirror, a place to elapse silent moments of self-appreciative or self-loathing inaction. Over time though, as the men softened, and no longer had to break their backs in the field and battle, they too would fall victim to the draw of this device. Sure, they would still have to worry about work, and such, but for once they could indulge in the narcissitic pleasures of life. And our plight equally worsened. Where once we had to cook and bear many children, now we were free to spend much time worrying about if we were as beautiful as the other girls in our town. Please do not misinterpret this description, the time men and women spend before the mirror is not constantly filled with pride. Often the subject feels ugly, obese, misshapen, sad, helpless, and weak. Even the greatest men and women feel these things when facing the mirror. However, I feel that this preoccupation with superficial worth is as equal a dedication to vanity as pridefulness. I finish applying my makeup, powdering my cheeks, lightly adding blush. I open my lips in an attempt at a smile. Sure enough, there they are, the one feature that has achieved me some small amount of success in this career. My pearly white teeth sparkle like shined glass, a dazzling white. The makeup was really pointless, after all, these are what the cameras are zooming in on, and they needed only a quick brush before I came in to shine so glamorously. I feel a twinge of guilt, thinking back to my reflections and wondering how many young girls will watch the commercial where they zoom in upon my chompers and be consumed by a need to spend hours at night whitening, flossing, and feeling utterly terrible about themselves. I think how unattractive they will feel when they compare their own yellowed incisors and canines to their memory of my glittering grin. I never would have landed a job in this industry, though if I didn't have the callousness to disregard the repercussions of my actions. I am not the most beautiful, I can't help but think, I may only have this one shining feature, but when it comes to that feature, I am whom they most desire. I leave my doubts floating at the door and walk into the picture that has become so second nature and familiar to me. I walk forth into against the white backdrop and greet the photographers and camera crew and stop to speak briefly to one of the producers, who is leisurely reclining in a canvas chair, smoking a cigarette. He smiles at me and tells me I am beautiful, tells me to remember to sound excited when I am saying the product name. His yellowed teeth glare out as I return his smile with my white and nod trying to look excited and attentive. As the lights and lamps encircle me, as the cameras spin and zoom, I earnestly smile as I say my lines, because for that instant, I am the star of the world, I am my own tabernacle. I am a monument to vanity. It is like a drug pulsing violently through my veins and I love it. I love myself, I feel no remorse at all at the thoughts of greed and desire that come into my mind. I am timeless and indestructible, a terrible beauty. But, as the lights die down, these feelings vanish and I feel crushed by the depressing weight of reality as familiar self-doubt sets in. As I drive home along the ocean road towards my apartment, I look at my reflection in my rear view mirror and wonder if someone will ever invent a cure for man's vain nature. How cruel a fate I am condemned to live, to lust to be such a vain tabernacle. What a sad failure I am, as I, an intelligent woman, have wasted yet another day dedicating my existence to vanity. This is the true face of man. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxUnlike my last prompt, I don't feel compelled to take Claire's story any farther. She is what she is, and there is no use drawing it out. Tell me what you think of the piece.-Jason
evolve a sound

story..	[07 Aug 2007|11:09am]
[ **mood** | awake ] Hey...So for those of you who reading my postings/muckraking, I'm still alive, working full time and writing. Going to WSU in the fall. Here is something I wrote the last two days, based on a story prompt that a friend of mine and I traded. The first entry is sorta like the prelude, followed by half of a full chapter of the story:!!!!IMPORTANT!!!!Do yourself a favor please, and scroll down and click the comment button (evolve a sound) so that the entry comes up in the normal white, as opposed to my "special" formatting, which while pretty, will give you a headache in this case*****************************************************************************************************************The Dream Controllers (episode 1: Prelude (full)/Chpt 1 (1/2))November 20: The air lay thick and sticky as James opened his eyes, blinking. His pulse pounded mightily against his head and he stared forward. His vision was a blur of greens and blues, but his eyes resolved suddenly upon a brilliant insect. It flew just feet away from his face and landed on a leaf glowing with an unearthly orange hue. He gasped at the strange beauty of it. He blinked his eyes as they seemed to well up with tears as he struggled to remain fixed on the creature. He heard a voice calling his name. He turned around and his eyes fell upon a tall man. He recognized the man's face to be that of his supervisor at work, Sam. The man extended a hand filled with paper's. They contained chemical formulas and mechanisms, strange and terrible. James realized, with a start, that he could not understand them, though he felt he should. But as he fretted and stared at them, they transformed before his eyes into rows of colored blinking lights, blinking out a frenzied pattern. James blinked again. He was in a dark alleyway. Shadows clothed the walls of the small backstreet and a strange shade of moonlight shone down on the bricks tinging them in shade of neon red. A twenty-something man of modest build walked hurriedly into view at the end of the street, glancing over his shoulder nervously into the shadows of the alley. As if in response a slight wail sounded and a dark shape loomed ominously forth from the shadows. Then there was a sudden flash of the orange hue of the insect from the previous scene and the shape sunk back. The scene flashed again and washed out into a godly glow of orange. James was muttering something incomprehensible as his eyelids snapped open and he sat up, drenched in sweat. His brass alarm clock jittered beside the bed and he looked over at his wife. He shook his head. What a dream!December 1: His feet crunched as he walked upon the ground. James exhaled deeply. His breath hung crystallized in the bitter cold air. He looked down at his feet, which where tingling. Oddly, they were entirely bare, but did not feel the slightest bit cold as they melted bits of the icy snow. James turned his head in a slow survey of his surroundings. Spires of ice crystal rose jutting out of the ground. There facets were polished sharply and illuminated in gentle pinks and blues. Walking forward, he climbed between the the pillars, through the field of ice. He could hear nothing but the sound of his breath. As he walked forward he saw a dramatic change in the landscape: before him lay a massive drop-off. The spires of ice crowned its edge like a bizarre crown. And near its edge, something deep crimson was glinting in the snow. Curious, he advanced forward. Upon the ground sat a single ruby, beautifully cut, colored a deep hue of red. He look picked it up and held it against the sky. As he looked at it, he felt powerfully attracted to it. He felt as if the stone held something of utmost importance to his purpose. As he stared at his depths, he swore he could see layers of crimson and burgundy shift slowly, like liquid inside it, playing with and distorting the light of the sun. They twined together like a nest of snakes and suddenly pulsed outwards towards the surface, towards him. Startled, he screamed and dropped the ruby. His hand which had held it began to tingle and fade into numbness. He stared at the red stone, sharply contrasting the white snow and his desires won out over his fears. He extended his unscathed hand out and picked it up, gently placing it in his pocket. After taking the stone, he advanced forward to the edge of the cliff. Some strange sensation rose in his breast and he felt nervous as if he was on the verge of something terrible and great. As he looked out over the cliff edge, his eyes fell on a pool of blue ice and water far below. Scattered inside the pool in broad patches, like great stains, were glints of red. They seemed to pierce upwards, through the water and into the sky. James realized in an instant that all his wildest dreams had come true that he was going to be rich beyond belief...if only he could extract those gems. Steeling himself, he hurled his body out into the expanse, over the blades of ice rimming the peak, and into the breeze. He felt his body contort and reshape into the blade of a diver descending downward, downward. And then came the impact, a painful and physical jerk through his entire frame. He ignored it and let the speed carry him downwards. He realized that his eyes had closed during the dive, and now he opened them to see a strange world frozen in time. There were coral colored fish, frozen in the dusty ice that lay gently suspended in the ice. Further down he could see them. Thousand of rubies, beautiful crimson, far larger than the one on the cliff. He swam with a rush, feel his breath trickle out his mouth. At last, he thrust out his hand and scooped up five of the fruit sized stones, they were wet with crimson read and they seemed to be melting as he shoved them violently into his pocket. In a frenzy, he began reaching for the stones, trying to grab ahold of as many as possible. Suddenly the water that was surrounding his body released him and he felt himself falling again. He hurled down through clouds of dark gases which wrapped at his ankles and fingers as he fell. Terrified he screamed, but no sound escaped. And then in an instant he was standing outside a porch, peeling white paint shining in the moonlight. He saw a figure, cloaked in shadow, peering at the home from the massive oak tree that stood in the front yard. Across the street a halogen street lamp burned down a milky haze of white light onto the midnight street. Glancing back at the figure, he began to feel strangely uneasy. He saw the figure rise up and dart toward the door, fingers grasping at the handle, jiggling it, probing it for the possibility of entry. The door gave way and swung open and the figure disappeared within the house. Still watching, James padded across the grass, up the three steps of the porch. The third step gave out a torturous groan. James froze, petrified with cold fear and sweat. Silence greeted him. With a feeling of dread, he felt his feet propelled up onto the porch, felt his hand open the screen door slowly. As he walked into the entryway, bordering the kitchen, he jumped. At first he thought that the walls had caught fire, but he realized that there was no heat. Looking more carefully, he realized they were covered in what appeared to be neon blood, a mixture of glowing red and orange spread crudely in wide swatches. Amidst the smears he spotted a single handprint, glowing furiously. Startled he looked back into kitchen and out into the dark hallway that followed. He crept silently forward. He heard a stifled cry, followed by a gurgling noise coming from a room down the hall. He fell to the floor shaking. His hands were trembling with the force of an earthquake as he curled up, staring down the hall in terror. He swore he could see a faint glow of orange and red curling out from under the door at the far end of hall. A sinking feeling in his gut told him what his mind refused to believe: someone had died. He collected himself and rose up, suddenly realizing that he must escape quickly. He had taken one slow step towards the door when he heard the hallway door burst open with a bang. Before he could turn around, a dark shape collided with him, knocking him over. It hurried past, out the door and into the night. He layed there for a minute and then everything faded into a terrible shade of red. A hand was shaking him. James sat up and looked over at his wife who was staring at him. Her blonde hair hung tangled along the sides of her face and her blue eyes, tinged with sleep, stared down at him groggily. "Honey, the alarm went off 10 minutes ago. You didn't wake up?? Don't you have to go to work??" It was only a dream? James blinked his eyes in the morning light that filtered into the room. But the blood had seemed so real and he had vaguely felt that he had seen that house before... Well of course, dreams are based on your memories, he told himself. After hesitating a second more, he decided not to dwell on another bad night of sleep. Maybe it had been something he had been eating. He told his wife that he was getting up and he slid off the edge of the bed. He rose up and slowly walked over to towards the bathroom. His muscles felt tense and achy. As he showered, the scene kept playing in his mind amidst the steam and spray. Drying off he shook his head trying to clear out any lingering memories of the night before. He looked in the mirror. A long slightly tan face greeted him. His cheekbones were slightly pronounced and he had dark circles under his blue eyes, indicating that he had not gotten enough sleep. He rubbed his chin, which was round and unobtrusive and ran his hand up along up through his short black hair. He scratched his scalp as if in effort to extract the feelings of uneasiness and doubt that still lay in his mind. James made breakfast (cereal), dressed, and headed out the door. He seized his briefcase at the entryway and walked out into the morning sun. His tall thin frame shivered as a gusty breeze blew down the street. Brown leaves littered the sidewalk and crunched under his feet as he walked towards his car. Opening the door of the car, a 1990 Toyota Camry, with grey paint, he tossed his briefcase against the passenger seat and settled inside. The engine started up with a dull growl and he pulled out onto the street, glancing carefully over his shoulder for passing cars. He turned on the radio and was greeted by a flamboyant voice. "Good morning tired listeners. Time to shake off that sleep since it is MORNING and this is Mike's in the Morning. Not Mics, Mike's, you sleephead! Guffaww haha...And boy do I have a show for you. We are going to have Aaron Rockridge in the studio this morning talking about his new movie (here's a secret: its stinks!), but first we have to catch you up on the morning news! Yea, I know its boring but keep informed, you dummy! So for the news my lovely assistant Elise! Elise! Where are you?" "Morning everyone", a silky voice called out from the radio. Breaking news this morning, coming out of the town of Daltridge. This morning the small town was shocked when police discovered the scene of a terrible crime. Conflicting reports are coming in, but it appears that one of the residents of Daltridge, a 30 year-old single man, was found dead this morning in his home, apparently murdered. Worse yet, reports are coming in that the murder was done in a grotesque fashion. I afraid I really shouldn't go into anymore details...but if you are listening.." Her calm voice broke for a minute, nervous, "If you are listening and know anything, anything about this terrible tragedy please contact your local police department immediately. Whoever did this will hopefully face swift justice. Coming up later in the morning, more on this shocking event!" The last sentence sounded almost perky as James grab his radio's volume knob and jerked it to the lowest setting. His breath came out harshly in pants, as he struggled to drive a straight and steady course down the street. It was just like his dream. He did not want to think the thought, but it came into his mind regardless. People are murdered and die all the time, he tried to tell himself rationally. It is just a pure coincidence. But try as he might to dismiss his concerns, as he drove into his work's parking lot, his hands were trembling slightly........... ***************************************************************************************************What'd you think? I already have most of the framework for how the story plays out layed out, and it should have at least two significant twists/revelations. Should be an interesting story if I ever finish it. And sorry if you don't like that I write in the modern timeframe. Just my style :) Hope any of you readers are doing well!-Jason
2 mind-controlled by the music| evolve a sound