I ask myself why the hell this site is still here. I haven't been advertising it. Nobody's here, what's the point? You're just a whiny little twat and anyone who has come skims over and realizes I'm a whiny twat and forgets about it and doesn't bother because I am a nobody. 

         But then I tell myself, "But I'm writing a book!" Because I am. And who the fuck knows when it'll be finished or if it'll be any damn good but that's why. This is here because you're doing something lasting!

       Then I remind myself everyone is writing a book and a song and someone will always be better than you. Which is true, but I have to remind myself I'm worth a damn. Which I am. To somebody. I'm not a particularly outgoing man, but I do know a few things. I am humble to fault, more than i should be. But when it counts, I can choose to tear a person apart if they ever tell me I'm not worth it. I forget sometimes in my loneliness and failures.  

                I'm a hell of a fucking musician. I don't claim to write the greatest things on the planet or be the best, but damned if I'm usually not the best drummer in the fucking room. if I'm not, I'll gladly watch in awe at the incredible musicianship before me. For a drummer, I'm a hell of a guitar player. I play more guitar than on my kit for shit-sake. I've been told by writers and guitarists who've been playing longer than I have that I'm a hell of a player. I deny this, but it's true. Again, not the best, nor do I claim it, but I am good. I can sing better than the average motherfucker at a karaoke bar or on a stage for 4 or 100 people. I've gotten comments. i chose not to. I'm coming out of my shell more and more though. 

            I'm interesting. YES. So pretentious sounding isn't it? Any time I think I'm being boring or feel that someone is judging me as boring. I forget to remind myself. I've been around the block! I've traveled, in and out of the country on insane adventures on a shoestring and came back in one piece or in mental pieces and I have stories that'll make your head spin and continue to have them for better or worse and to my detriment. I AM an interesting person. I've been places, man. (yea I said man like yea maaannnn) So fuck off if you think I'm  a boring son of a bitch. You boring! 

            And as much as I think otherwise because I enjoy feeling bad for myself, and as much as I've done to contradict this at times, I am, in fact, a nice guy. Yes, fuck you. I pride myself on not being a shithead. I am, in some people's eyes. But they had partaking in that too I'm sure of. To most people, I try to do well by them. More than well. I go above and beyond and way out of my way and means. I dislike wearing it on my sleeve because it fucks up the humble aspect of it and really the whole sentiment, but this here's my website. (now in southern cowboy accent) and well, nobody knows now but you. I am a kind, gentle person. Sure, I get grumpy, mainly food or financially related. But hell if I'm not going defend myself in this ever-increasingly terrible world of shit. I AM A RARE FIND. God damnit. When will I treat myself as one? I take no issue telling you (here) that I am a dying breed of person. You'd be lucky to have me. 

          I keep kissing feet instead of appreciating my own first. One of my downfalls. 

It'll get me every time. And keep happening, and happening, and happening until I die from a broken heart.

       Or a diseased and clogged one via high blood pressure and cholesterol. Probably that.