Moving!

Finally. Thank Christ. 

        I am finally getting back at it after 2 years of hell. It's been one hell of a time. Last year was a total wash, and it's taken me near 6 months to get back on my feet. i realize my rebound and bounce-back from bad things is super slow. One slight fuckery or tragedy and there goes 2 months. Bundle a few together in quick succession and you bet my year's down the tubes. Car trouble, money woes, housing circumstance up in the air, work, relationship, family drama. None of that makes for a decent life, and makes for even worse chances of succeeding. I don't have a strong foundation.

         I've managed to stay alive through it all, I'm a tough son of a bitch, but i'm trying not to glamorize it. It's not glamorous in the least. Play that sad lap steel Danny!

             I am happy inside to finally be living without worry and without constantly feeling like I'm 16 again. 2 years coming. Jesus Christ i'm counting the days. I'll have flatmates but they seem cool. We'll get a long. There's a beautiful dog there as well. I'm so happy. Here's to the future.

                        Let's see how long it lasts...

News

Big things happening here. It's been a while, but I've been aware of it, I know. I haven't forgot.

        I've been working on it, believe it or not. I HAVE! Shut it! I have. 

    I've been working on bettering me as cliche as it sounds. By that I mean, getting a place to live, and getting another place to do work, another to jam in, preferably those last two formed into one. But I make no promises. I'm drinking. 

              I've accepted I go through phases. I go through phases of creating, and living. I need to live in order to create. In order to document my stories, I need to live them, or at least recharge in order to be creative enough to write. Really, being OKAY enough to write and be creative, that's what it's been lately. But I have been working creatively in these past few months, albeit slowly, BUT I HAVE I SWEAR. In addition to getting my life more stable, I've been writing on a project I'll be ready to announce soon. Also trying to finish a record I've been meaning to release for the past 4 months which has taken a backseat to the writing project. Like I said, I go through phases, so when the time for the music side passes, then it's hard for me to focus on it. At this point it's stale and I simply want to get it out there. It'll be half-baked at best. But I know the minute I focus on getting it published, I'll want to perfect it. At least tenfold over the previous record, we'll see. 

          Third, I'm working on a podcast. I know I've been spewing about this for over a year now, but it's more formulating the idea of it. Forming the longevity of it. I could easily put out 2 or 3 solid, meaningful ones, but I'm working on sustainability. I'm forming relationships and mentioning it to people so when I'm ready, I have them lined up and ready to go. I'd like to do 2 a week. But as I know few groups and artists, it won't be sustainable past a month! So we'll see. But it's in the works, as is everything, always.  

           The writing project I mentioned earlier is my primary focus and I'm very excited about it. It is increasingly approaching my own point of saturation and point of boredom so I'm quickly attempting to put a steady and honest effort into finishing it in a timely manor. It's time was probably a month or so ago, but this is what happens when your life is up in the air. Nobody is holding your promises to the fire except yourself. As a procrastinator, nothing is keeping you from never putting it out. But as a creative, I'm always on to the next thing, whether musical, writing, film or whatever artistic in nature, so it's important I try to keep to imaginary timelines, or whatever the word is for my brain's timeline. Beyond that, my brain transitions to the next project I'll inevitably leave unfinished, so the cycle continues. I need to break the cycle. FINISH!

     Damnit. Here's to the drink and fucking finishing. Damnit. 

I'm like a child. I always did start a bit late on things. I didn't start drinking until 23. I'm 26 now and I'm finally going out on my own. I have been for over a year now. Bid more and more just going on dates by myself. 

     As I write, I'm sitting in the back of a small theater, seating perhaps a hundred or so. I snuck booze in, like a child. But childlike doesn't describe it. Dangerous, rebellious,  young? The word is escaping me. But here I am all the way in the back, it's in my coat, in a thermos shaped like a lens. One of those yea. An ex a few back gave it to me. She'd roll over and SHIT if she knew this is what I was doing with it, which makes me smile. She hated that I drank at all. She'd never ever kiss me and refuse me and send me off if I drank.  Hell, once I had 2 beers and 5 hours went by, I ate, had gum,then went over. She could still tell. She had a nose. Literally too. Still does. She played me, three times. I was desperate the second two and perhaps the first.  I don't know. 

 .   I'm no longer desperate. I do want companionship, but I'm not desperate for it. Because I know ol the pattern all too well now. What they'd say when they see my situation. Lack of space, financial,  Endy I do with my spare time. My rebellious nature on occasion. Sli have nothing to offer in terms of security. I know the plays and the chronology. Until I change, that pattern won't. 

       This theater is filed with old people. Elderly and music students. Kids who couldn't hack Berkley. The old, the rejects, and me. Well, I'm worse. I didn't try. But why do what they feel like.  

      I must be the only one here from off campus. Everyone else is a music student/teacher. 

 .  Fuck, a bunch are sitting near me now. This will be hard. I'm still the only one in this back row though. I'm betting most of these guys are supposed to be here,have to be I mean. Not a bad assignment.  I'm here nexus I don't want to go back just yet. Fuck. 

      Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuckedy fuck fuck fuckery. 

    How. Will.i. bust.  Out. My. Thermos. Of.rum. 

thank god I took a healthy swig before I ran in here. I hippie they cut the lights. They have to. They have to. 

Over and out free people.  

 

Bobby Charles

If you want me to dance, all you have to do is starve me, get me drunk, and put on some Bobby Charles. Yes. That's all you have to do.

       But, I'll make an exception and say I'll dance any day,

                                                                                              with you.

             

Birthday

What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? What do you want for your birthday? 

 

                  I just want, 
                                        to be okay.

Self Destruction

I have self destructive tendencies and I think it's horrible and healthy for me. Let me explain.

       But, will I ever truly get to the bottom of it? Do I secretly want to? Let's see.

          So obviously reaching out to old flames and ex-bosses etc is a no-no. i know this now. Or do I? Well, in the right frame of mind yes. "Right" as in, right in the head, not as in right or wrong. It's what I felt was right, at the time but now in hindsight, horrible fucking idea. That being said, I think there's a possibility I might fall back into that mindset if i get lonely and desperate enough and rip open already ripped open old wounds that are still healing and bleeding and scarring up and now disfigured. This is the horrible part. I'm doing this to my own detriment, but as well to others. If they aren't seeking me out, then they do not want me in their lives anymore, time and actions have proved this. So what would make me go chasing? It hurts someone else when they've finally felt better about removing you from their lives, which can take months or years sometimes, and out of nowhere you reach out. It's like they have to start back from zero again. Fuck.

            In that way, it's horrible. 

     In other ways, it is healthy. Uprooting and starting over. Being comfortable quitting your job and saying fuck it. FUCK IT! Being okay with not needing anything or anybody for the sake of saving yourself or the illusion of that or protecting yourself I suppose. But not many people have this ability to be okay with saying "fuck it, this is bad, fuck off, fuck you, i'm fucked, so I'm leaving." In whatever situation. Relationships, jobs, living situations, etc. I can simply say, "You know what, I've been here for 6 months, but I'm off to see the wizard, sorry." And go. It's healthy, it keep you on your toes. Comfort is the evil to progression and discovery and self-improvement and such. So in this way, it's healthy. You can't move up and onward if you're not willing to uproot everything on a dime.

            With that said, 

                                         Fuck this post, I'm done. Moving on. 

Bless you

I was in the kitchen at work. The cleaning guy was in there emptying a trash barrel. He speaks spanish. I've heard him talk and it doesn't sound like he speaks much english. I was walking past him and he sneezed, twice. He didn't look up, but I looked back at him and didn't say bless you. 

            I didn't say it. I had two chances too. He sneezed, twice. Twice. Twice he sneezed. This man sneezed twice with 3 people in the kitchen (i was closest) and I didn't say bless you or god bless you or salut (espanol version of bless you) or gesundheit (german?) or anything. i didn't even acknowledge it other than in my own head. I just walked by. I let this man down.

            I left him all by himself. This man needed someone. He needed a bless you. Jeebus what's wrong with me? Not only did I let someone down, but I put myself above this guy. The help, and I. That's not how it's supposed to be. I am beating myself so, because I'm pretty sure I would've said bless you had it been someone else. But I left it because I didn't know how to say it to a guy who spoke spanish and who probably thinks of himself as underneath. Not because he was per say, but because I didn't want to intrude on that? Does that make sense? 

           In any case, I immediately regretted not saying anything to him as he sneezed with immense silence following. I took 3 steps and thought, "What a fucking asshole I am, what the fuck is wrong with me!?" But what do I do? Return, now the time awkwardly passed, to go back and say, "Bless you sir!" That'd be strange. The time had passed and I let him down and myself down for being such a dick. I'm better than this. I'm not above anybody. But these thoughts don't change a damn thing. I'm no better than my actions. 

              Save me Jeebus Cribbs. Save my soul. I am sorry.

Bless you. Bless you. Bless you.

 

Sorry for your loss

Isn't it concerning that even when writing in a grieving/ thinking of you card, I try to make myself stand out? 

        A co-worker is out because he is putting his cat down. Everybody wrote "sorry for your loss" or "thinking of you" etc. What I wrote: Thinking of you, your friend - Pat

     Not really different I know, but isn't it odd I thought to myself, "How do I stand out?" 

It's fucked up really. 

I need a tissue

Who was the guy who invented the first tissue box?  The concept of pulling one out, so it presents the next is genius. Used in napkin despensers, lysol wipes etc.