alright. after much yelling, screaming, and general threats to my well-being, i've finally developed and scanned some pictures so they're on the web.

go use www.flickr.com and search for 'the roof anarchist'.
if you don't have an account, get one. even the paraplegic monkey down the street has one.

alternately, go here.

oh. before i forget..yes, i said 'developed'. yes, that means they were originally prints. yes, that means the quality on them isnt wonderful after scanning, but that's just something you and i are going to have to learn how to deal with.

PS: one of you needs to fill me in on how to get those little flickr things on the blog.


thank you, and have a nice day.

between brief flickers of faith,
between the moments of yes,
and no.
between each blink,
step,
shake,
and silent nod,
you will find-


hang on.

sha-la-la-la-la-lala.

i was down at the new amsterdam,
staring at this yellow-haired girl.
mr. jones strikes up a conversation with this black-haired

flamenco dancer.

she dances while his father plays

guitar

she's suddenly beautiful.
we all want something beautiful.
i wish i was beautiful.

so come dance this silence down through the morning

sha-la-la-la-la-la...yea.

cut maria! show me some of them spanish dances,
pass me a bottle, mr. jones.

believe in me

help me believe in anything
i want to be someone who

believes.

mr. jones and me,
tell each other fairy tales
stare at the beautiful women
"she's looking at you. ah, no, no, she's looking at me."
smiling in the bright lights
coming through in

stereo

when everybody loves you,
you can never be lonely.


i will paint my picture
paint myself in blue and red and black and grey
all of the beautiful colors are very very meaningful
grey is my favorite color
i felt so

symbolic

yesterday
if i knew Picasso
i would buy myself a grey guitar and play.


mr. jones and me look into the future
stare at the beautiful women
"she's looking at you.
uh, i don't think so. she's looking at me."
standing in the spotlight
i bought myself a grey guitar
when everybody loves me,
i will never be

lonely.

i want to be a lion
everybody wants to pass as cats
we all want to be big big stars, but we got different reasons for that
believe in me because i don't believe in anything
and i want to be someone to believe.


mr. jones and me stumbling through the barrio
yeah we stare at the beautiful women
"she's perfect for you, man, there's got to be somebody for me."
i want to be Bob Dylan
mr. jones wishes he was someone just a little more funky
when everybody loves you, son, that's just about as funky as you can be

mr. jones and me staring at the video
when i look at the television, i want to see me staring right back at me
we all want to be big stars, but we don't know why and we don't know how
but when everybody loves me, i'm going to be just about as happy as can be

mr. jones and me, we're gonna be big stars..

Mr. Jones
Counting Crows

small people in a small town, a small world with a small mouth...and if you repeat the words to yourself till they lose meaning you actually move backwards rather than forwards, sometimes never realizing that backwards, too, is a direction, and one direction is just as good as another.