I feel like THIS GUY:

...maybe a bit more tolerant...and white. I still feel like that guy, though.

I did something dirty

..not necessarily proud of myself, but...my god it worked like a charm.

Today, I came across mastering my new track.

It needs to be LOUD without being (in headroom-sense), LOUD.

What I did was I downloaded this VST that many masters use: the Voxengo Elephant. It's job is to compress just about everything up to a loudness quality that's only matched up using it's tool (or some super expensive virtual studio mashugana). The demo version of this leaves gaps of silence every-so-often- across the track. What I realized was this was at total RANDOM.

So I exported TWO versions of the track, both at different times. Sure enough, the awesome VST left voids of sounds in different parts of the track. The glory of it? They were in different spots in the tracks. So I took both tracks and pasted over where the clips of silence were with the OTHER track.

Man, I feel dirty. Now, though, I know I can use the VST at my discretion and for free! There's no way I'm paying 200-so-odd bucks if I already got away with a free copy of Live 8.

...even if it only lasts for a while more. I'm cheap, yes.

Dream Log 10/July

This one's slightly old, but I remember it quite well.

In my dream, I return from one of my friend's house to see my mom packed with a briefcase. I ask where she's going. She tells me (in some lucid way that I didn't pick up) that WE were going to the airport. I ended up packing nothing (I get really stupid in my dreams), and we left. The whole airport/airplane thing I forgot - all I remember is that it took 2 hours, but I remember being in the hotel room across from a building suspiciously similar to the Xcel Energy building downtown.

The building was lined with huge white christmas lights (the 'bulb' kind), and the line of lights ended right by my hotel room. It was snowing outside, although it was relatively warm. The community surrounding the building was cozy and closely situated house-to-house. Upon seeing the building, I remember me thinking "Singapore Exchange" would be PERFECT to hear. I never say the real title of my tracks in my dreams (Kero)- I only say the pre-production codenames. By then, I knew I already made it big and went around the world because I simply could. The dream didn't last long - the end of the dream I remember heading off to another place in the world. My mom told me I could do this as long as I had the money. In my mind, that was no problem, and already I knew I would have enough money for the world. Maybe that's a sign I'm going to make it big?

That'd be nice. No dreams about chicks yet.

Sick of being sick

I'm still sick.

There are no women interested in a slob like me.

I can't sleep at night.

^^^ These things DON'T keep me up at night, anymore!
Actually, as a result, my dreams have become wilder and better to remember!

I also take time to slice up samples to make Mord Fustang/Skrillex-esque tracks! THAT'S A GOOD THING!

(I still can't believe I made DUBSTEP)

I went back to the school today, for the first time since it let out in May. It's a wreck, and it smells like ass.
On the positive side, there'll be no new teacher for the High School. That means no new classrooms taken from the senior lounge!

It also means that I go in tomorrow at 14:00 for new staff interviews.
(They're all soooo fake!)





If anyone still reads this, I owe you.
I usually bitch and complain about my life...and I know I'm a more interesting person if I actually talked about the good life.
It'll happen...maybe in my next post. Yes.

July, the Fourth (time being sick this year)

This is what I hate about being white: I get sick really quickly with no reason.

Did I wash my hands? Of course! Didn't make out with any sluts, did you? NO!

But I still get mono. What the crap!?

I can't look up at the blue sky and dream off into my charming fantasies of beautiful women because I'll cough out a lung if I tilt my head up that much. I can't even sleep more than 2 hours without waking up in a cold sweat. Even when I THINK about it, I cough unstoppably. I'm going to stalk, murder, and donate the organs of the person who gave me this. EVEN if it's a remarkably good-looking girl; she's gonna get it. I can't even think straight with this damn virus!

I didn't feel like Katy Perry this fourth. No firework...just being hot 'n cold.