I hate how I never remember the intelligent thoughts in my head. By the time I get to a pen and paper, or the computer, all that's left is this ranting shit. I love live funk music. I love going out to a hole-in-the-wall pub and listening to amazingly talented jazz musicians who vow never to sell out. I love KC Roberts and the Live Revolution, they make me proud to be from Toronto. I share this love with a few close friends, but to be honest, I hope no one ever hears them. I want them to be my own, I want to be part of a cult-following of people with good taste in music. I don't want to convince others to like what I like, I want to be just a LITTLE different. The next time someone exceeds and I don't, at least I can say they've never heard this band play live whereas I have - 3 times. I'm going tomorrow night even though it's a 19+ show. I couldn't care less about drinking, it's the type of music that demands to be listened to, and I respect the art form enough to listen to it with my undivided attention. Even though that's true, I can't wait until I'm old enough that I can have a few beers and get on the dance floor and let loose with a girl next to me. It's music that demands you to listen, but also to get your ass on up. I live for those moments, I can't wait to drop all inhibitions and live how I see fit, not living by others standards. Unfortunately, these moments don't come by very often, and when they do I'm usually not ballsy enough to recognize and take advantage of them. This is something I vow to work out. I didn't start writing on this site to work on my writing skills, or even to write anything structured. I just love the satisfaction of completing a page of writing, not knowing where to start or how to finish. Also, I love this font. I really want to see the world, I cannot wait until the Cuba grad trip next year. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll get lucky, but that's not the top priority on my list. I'm just glad to see the world with close friends near me. It seems as though I've run out of juice and this sentence along with those that follow it are merely here as filler - there's nothing more dissatisfying than not completing an empty page once you've started. I love live funk music, but I guess I should get started on that Augustus Caesar essay. Who the fuck cares about history that old? I can't see the purpose of studying useless shit like that.