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MY NEWEST VIDEO funkyrailroad.com

this is the most amazing thing I've ever done
including all my poetry, all my rapping, all my photography,
not my friendships
but just shy of that....

I proudly present....


to be watched with the lights OFF and either loudly or in headphones, no distractions... if you can't accomplish this for an epic video, you don't deserve to see epic videos.



my last 4 days in video format

the revolution

Long time no post

Hey guys,

I apologize for not updating in a while, I've been insanely busy with a number of things. Production on the Live Journal Film Project has been moved back a couple months. I'm still re-writing submissions, but my involvement in other professional and social activites hasn't allowed me to devote as much time to this project as I would have liked.

Please bare with me, and I'm thankful to those who have decided to stick around. It will be worth your while in the end I promise you. Anyway, keep posting your stories and inviting your friends to do the same.


  • Current Mood
    awake awake

documenting my life

because there are no external ads on the site, nor will there be... it's 100% free media made independantly for the viewer by ARTISTS, not Stars.

www.funkyrailroad.com - currently 20 hours of videos, no ads. all free, streaming!

Re-creating Warhol's Factory

The classic alert tone went off on my cell phone; I knew exactly who it was before even answering the phone. I pick up and speak, ignoring the greeting and going straight into the heart of the conversation. She was still crying, as she had spent the greater part of the day doing, or trying not to do. The emotional distress of working part-time, attending school full-time, and attempting to have any semblance of a social life (which consisted mostly of spending time with the guy she swore was not her boyfriend) had her feeling life was pointless, and nothing was relevant to happiness. Having a school advisor tell her that her dreams of graduate school were “in no way in hell” going to happen, she broke. I was quite familiar with those feelings.
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For consideration

Hi guys! I'm new here. I'm a Film & TV student, specializing in Producing. I love to write, but just the thought of writing AND finishing an entire screenplay frustrates me. I always get impatient by it, so whenever I start something, I never get to finish it. :\ This is my first attempt to write anything ficitional so please be kind. :)

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On 9/11

Mood: Can't describe it

Didn't write this for consideration, sorry it is not ... edited. i wrote in quickly, but wanbted to share:
In resonse to midnite post:

I was at work with another guy driving to a job on the jersey parkway on our way up to a town just outside nyc ( I can't remember the town) We were listening to Howard Stern on the radion smoking a blunt and laughing. Next thing you know BaBa Booey comes in and is like look out the window look out the window a fucking plane just hit the towers! And Stern starts clamaring about it, and i was like to my firend that asshole that is not funny WTF! And it was clear in a few minutes he was not joking. All of a sudden we saw the electronic signs on the highway start reading all exits past (i forget teh exit) were closed to the public, and i saw every ambulance or police car or firetruck that must have been in the area and on the turnpike flying past us and going towards NYC. we stopped at a rest stop to get gas and eat and there were crowds of people getting out of their cars and standing in front a a 13 inch black and white tv that did no justice to the horrible scene. the turbin wearing guys at the gas station were hugging eachother. for reasons i don't know. at that moment i wanted to beat their brains in and i remember seeing other white people hugging, and i though to myself, i really have no clue as to why the turbin weraring guys (I say that cause i don't know their nationality) were hugging and they could have been hugging for the same reasons the white people were hugging. maybe they were hugging becsause they knew there would be white people like me who had that thought but actually did beat them down. maybe they were hugging because they were scared of that. maybe they were hugging because THEY succeeded. either way i didn't know and i didn't care to ask them why becasue my real concern was for those people, and hoped no one i knew or anyone i knew knew someone who died. but i knew that was impossible. i live 30 minutes outside nyc. impossible. So got gas and ate, and decided to go to the job we had sheduled ... we didn't know if work expected us to come home, or get the job done, and the cellphone lines would not work. we were already past the exit that had been closed to the public, so we went to the job anyway... maybe they had a phone. we wouldn't get home quick anyway due to the influx of traffic southbound due to the people who did get out of the city before the bridges closed. i couldn't get myself away from the radio and the other guy had to tell me to get to work and come inside the house. i came in and it was a russian jewish family and the grandmother was old and had breathing apparatus on. the mother was hysterical crying grabbing my chest and speaking in russian/hebrew. asking why in english. her daughter was in the towers and she couldn't get ahold of her. the grandma was hysterical. screaming things about isreal, saying they did it becasue of isreal. we did the job as best we can but we were lost in the drama. a few hours later, we got a call on the telephone at the womans house. it was alyssa she had gotten the number from my work. she was crying telling me they said to get home, and they all had already left the office tried to call me but couldn't get through. we finished the job and never took the check from the woman for the 400 dollars. it just seemed wrong. she might have to pay for a funeral. on the way home southbound we saw ambulances and firetrucks and flatbeds with bulldozers and stuff on them flying up the now empty parkway at speeds that looked like they were 120mph. we drove past the meadowlands again, where u can see the city and the skyline. but it wasn't there, you just saw this greyish gassy haze and a black cloud just lingering over the site like it had it's own smog, more visible than the rest of the smog. it just looked eerie. and my stomach turned inside itself. I don't know if the woman whos house we were in ever made it home. i know personally one person who died, and tons more who lost friends and family. He was an asina man who used to come into the starbucks i worked at like clockwork 5 minutes before close every night I worked woith is little son, and get a grande white moch and a kids hot chocolate for his son and apologize for coming in so late but that is what time he got out of work. He liked talking to me for some reason and would always ask about my life, i told him (it was just a few weeks before i had left starbucks) that i was a buisnes major in college and that i was frustrated becasue i didn't want to be working in starbucks and i wanted to do something more with my major and my interests. that is when he told me he could get me an internship at cantor fitzgerald(they lost every employye they had that day, was in the impact zone), at the trade center. he was for some reason impressed by me and always kind and usually tipped me 5-10 bucks whenever he came in. 9/11 happened and i never saw him or his kid again. i never knew his name or his son's name and i waited at closing time someitmes to see if he came in. i went baclk to starbucks and asked and described him to all the other people who worked there when i was closing. they all remembered him and said they didn't see him, and never saw him again. i wish if i knew how to get in touch with is ex wif(he had told me he was a single father) or his family to tell him i knew him and he was a nice caring guy who loved his son. but i can't.... alyssas family in staten island was devasted by the number of neighbors they knew who were gone or lost a son daughter mother or father. that is my memory. when i think of september 11th i see his face and his son in his arms.