The lyrics from this update come from The Blood Brothers song, Peacock Skeleton with Crooked Feathers. It comes off of their very diverse and amazing album Crimes.
The Blood Brothers were always a band that amazed me at far they went. Unfortunately they've since ceased to be an active band, but when they were around they definitely caught your attention. Whether you liked them or not, they really did push something quite unique. They were always put into the category of punk, or hardcore. I don't necessarily disagree that they had a lot of elements that were obviously from those genres, but to be honest...they were a lot more than that.
For a great portion of their career they put out chaotic albums that always resembled an organ grinder going to town on a super nova exploding. When they released Crimes, it was so different from anything they'd done up that point..I loved it immensely.
What I always disliked about them, were things they never really had control over to begin with. They couldn't necessarily help the kind of kids they attracted at their shows. The other is that I feel people never appreciated the depth and literacy of their lyrics and musicianship; instead focusing more on the high pitched duel-vocal-screaming.
Seeing them live was always a treat. The best I could ever describe them as would be...chaotic. Simply fucking chaotic. I had the chance to see them four times, and every single time they left an impression that I'll never forget.
One of my favorite shows of theirs that I ever went too (which is in my top ten favorite shows of all time) saw something happened to me that...I wish didn't.
Their support sucked. I mean flat out, it just was not enjoyable. But you kinda just stood through it all, clapped when they finished their song. It kind of helped having a crappy under card, though. All that anxiety built up, and when they took the stage, you could bet it would be a wild ride for the next hour.
So many times you ducked instruments, bottles, lit cigarettes (people could still smoke in clubs at this point. That makes it feel like decades ago) bodies, microphones and whatever else.
This guy in front of me was fall down drunk. Literally, he fell down at one point, and trust me...that's completely relevant to the story.
So this guy was sloshed. It was the break between sets before the Blood Brothers would take the stage. I often think back as to why no one (security or his friends) stopped him from doing this. Maybe it was because everyone was excited and preoccupied with what was about to happen. Maybe it was because those who actually saw what happened were too amused to say anything, or maybe it was because people never really pay attention to what happens.
Don't get me wrong. I've seen almost anything you could imagine at punk shows. I've seen a chick blow a guy during a Thrice set, I've seen people fucking while the legendary Suicide Machines tore the roof off of the place. Drug abuse, fighting, a girl fighting too guys at once in a mosh pit, people catapulted, a band showered with water bottles, all of that. But up until now, I'd never seen this happen.
This kid went to a corner next to the left speaker, pulled it out and started pissing. The house lights were on, people were standing near him, his friends were dying of laughter...yet, it happened. And he pissed for about a good minute.
It was a huge puddle. I made a mental note to try and stay in the middle of the crowd, and figured, "Eh, someone pissed. Worst case scenario, I might step on it. No biggie." But oh, I was wrong.
Remember when I said he was literally fall down drunk? Well, he fell down right into it, and then proceeded to sit in it for 15 minutes while smoking, and talking to his friends. He ever questioned why the floor was wet. This kid was gone.
That settled it. I was on my way to the middle of the crowd.
So the Blood Brothers came onto stage, and were just absolutely killing it. I mean it. It was fast paced, energetic, bodies and instruments and microphones swinging all over the place. A lot of mic sharing, a lot of stage diving...a lot of fun.
Until who should wind up in front of me besides Lushy McPeepants. The crowd was swaying, a lot of circle pits exploded, and all of that.
At one point I wound up catching a rogue microphone, and a bunch of us were sharing it. That's when Lushy fell, ass first, into the front of me. To my chagrin, his pants were still sopping wet from urine. How's that for a fuck my life moment?
Anyway, here's a live video of the song (sans the urine) It's a little crappy, the audio I mean (but it's not that bad at all) but if you get a chance to check it out recorded, I highly suggest it. It's catchy like syphills just, you know...without the pain and shame of an STD.
Check it out:
I've been pretty bored all day. I've resorted to watching early episodes of the Simpsons, and reading. I'm starting to get a touch of cabin fever, and I really need to do something fun tonight or my head will explode. Or my lungs will flood with boredom. Who knows? The point is...I'll die because of boredom.
I had a discussion with a friend today, and she said she felt that it was impossible to ever have free health care, that that system would fail and that the government had more important things to deal with.
It's this general opinion that the average American has that simply signifies that we will not be able to keep up with the rest of the modern world. Honestly, I truly believe that.
"What about the people who go to college to be doctors or pharmacists? They won't have a job."
Many people feel this way in America. They feel it's improbable. They feel it's too socialist, for God's sake. They never stop to think that they pay a cops salary with their taxes, that they pay a firemans salary, or public school teachers salaries with their taxes. And all of those services could be construed as "too socialist" in anyone took a damned moment to think.
God Bless propaganda.
But the statement that there's more important issues the government has to deal with...really? The health of the people who put you in office shouldn't be a top priority in the minds of any citizen? Especially with a recession where hundreds of thousands of people have lost jobs, and can no longer afford bullshit insurance?
When I mentioned that Europe had free care, and has had free care forever, she went on to say she would rather be an American. Now, don't get me wrong, this girl is highly intelligent and is extremely awesome. But that question really set me off to where I couldn't think of anything else to say.
This isn't an attack of paitriotism. I'm happy I'm an American. It's because I love my country that I feel this is something we should be implementing. To help better so many peoples lives. It has nothing to do with socialism, or saying Europe is better than America (or vice versa). It's about the evolution of a country, the progression to think and act and do things differently, instead of attempting to revert to some 50's mentality that's both counterproductive, archaic and at this point damaging to the progression of a nation that helped spawn ideas of freedom,
I wish more people took the time to try to convince their representitives this was a good idea. I wish people stopped being so apathetic and closed minded. I wish people would stop falling prey to propaganda and saw that these ideas ingrained in them by politicians were only the in the interest of the lobbyists who paid them off, and instead demanded more of their government.
I wish people didn't simply view politics as boring and tiresome. I wish that people would stop thinking that it's not their problem, that they elected someone to do their thinking for them. Because the truth of the matter is...it's hurt us more than anything.
People have stated they want change and elected a person selling the idea of it. But so far it's all cosmetic, and now the savior they wanted is slowly revealing himself to be just as tyranical as the previous administration. Just recently, Obama has stated he will be sticking with Bush's policy of not submitting some detainees suspected of terrorism to a fair trial. This is a country that stated every person is subject to a fair trial of their peers, and yet just because a rock star with a bigger paycheck and fancy white house can charm even the most staunch world leaders against America is in office, people are content. It's all cosmetic. There's no fucking substance anymore, and that has to change, or else it's the end of the road.
-Until tomorrow.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
They all drink the same drinks, and they all fuck the same. (Day 168)
Today there will be a double post to make up for missing last night. I just got really tired. I wound up not being able to make it to the job interview, and I'm very bummed in that. But things happen sometimes that are outside of everyone's control, so I completely understand.
This updates lyrics come from a band I've always been heavily enamored by. They're a complete mixture of stuff you've heard before, but you just can't quite put your finger on. It's obvious that the singer wears his Johnny Cash influences as a shirt, instead of up his sleeves. The song (despite what they say at the beginning of the video) is called Spring Break 1899. It's by a band named Murder By Death (named after the 1976 movie with Pete Sellers) off of their latest album, Red of Tooth and Claw.
As good as this video is, and how much justice it does the band, I can't say how much I really hope you check out the whole album. The cello doesn't tend to be bled over as much, and the cello really makes this band.
So I missed my job interview. Hopefully I can convince them to reschedule it, but if not at least I know that this drought of unemployment is about to run its course. I've also been thinking about going to school again. I'm just not so sure I'd survive in the kind of atmosphere because I get so damned bored so quickly. When they hand out those syllabus' I always tend to work way ahead and then just lose interest and wind up not going back.
I wish I knew a way to keep myself focused. I've tried not working ahead, and that's when I start losing assignments or something. It's hard to explain. I just hate sitting still, honestly.
I'll be updating again later today. Be sure to wait with baited breath.
-Until tomorrow (which is technically like...tonight.)
This updates lyrics come from a band I've always been heavily enamored by. They're a complete mixture of stuff you've heard before, but you just can't quite put your finger on. It's obvious that the singer wears his Johnny Cash influences as a shirt, instead of up his sleeves. The song (despite what they say at the beginning of the video) is called Spring Break 1899. It's by a band named Murder By Death (named after the 1976 movie with Pete Sellers) off of their latest album, Red of Tooth and Claw.
As good as this video is, and how much justice it does the band, I can't say how much I really hope you check out the whole album. The cello doesn't tend to be bled over as much, and the cello really makes this band.
So I missed my job interview. Hopefully I can convince them to reschedule it, but if not at least I know that this drought of unemployment is about to run its course. I've also been thinking about going to school again. I'm just not so sure I'd survive in the kind of atmosphere because I get so damned bored so quickly. When they hand out those syllabus' I always tend to work way ahead and then just lose interest and wind up not going back.
I wish I knew a way to keep myself focused. I've tried not working ahead, and that's when I start losing assignments or something. It's hard to explain. I just hate sitting still, honestly.
I'll be updating again later today. Be sure to wait with baited breath.
-Until tomorrow (which is technically like...tonight.)
Thursday, May 21, 2009
For a year we caught his tears in a cup. And now we're gonna make him drink it. Come on Alex don't die or dry up! (Day 167)
Today's lyric comes from Canadianistan band, the Arcade Fire. The song can be found on their album Funeral, and the song is called Laika.
I can't tell you how many hours I listened to that album, and this song specifically when I worked at the Comfort Inn. Something about the atmosphere of that album, of that song...really made those dead and unending hours more than what they should have been. It made it this...I want to say journey. I tend to daydream quite a lot, and with this in the background...I'd drift for hours on end, and it'd honestly make the nights seem so less depressing and pointless.
These guys put on this amazing live show. Literally, two members of the band strap on helmets and beat the shit out of each others heads with drum sticks. While admittedly that actually sounds really kitchy and pointless, it actually flows with the mood and demeanor of this band. Also, imagine a relatively off the radar band going on Letterman, and doing something like that? It was awesome.
I'm actually posting another songs from their latest release, which was amazing, called Neon Bible (song is the same name). What's so special about this performance? Well consider this: There's a tuba, two violinists, a person playing a xylophone, saxophone, as well as a guitar and a dude ripping pages out of a magazine as a percussion instrument and a guy banging on the roof for additional umph. Oh, also there in an elevator while someone is videotaping it. There also might be a few other instruments as well.
Starting tomorrow I have a job interview for a citizens advocacy group. The aim is to try and lower "big businesses" like the oil conglomerates from continuously snuffing out any alternative fuel sources, thusly keeping America dependent on foreign power.
Along with that, they also work in the community with the down and out, which honestly is something I can truly get behind. This is a job that is completely opposite of what I did for the New York Government. It's a non-profit organization that worries more about helping people, instead of fastidiously expediting peoples shattered lives in order to make that much more money.
It's a job that I feel I'd be a great fit for, and I really hope something can work out. It's in the Valley, which is quite a ways away, which means I'd be making my big move out of this nowhere nothing desert town, into one of the bigger cities in the nation.
I'm nervous, anxious and so awfully excited.
I decided to change a few days ago, and already I can see some things beginning to rotate into that favor. So please, wish me luck.
The downside of this position is that it appears to only be a summer position, but if I'm working I have an idea it might be that much easier to get a job. Plus I've learned a lot about my finances, and when it's time to scrimp, and when it's okay to splurge a little bit.
I'd like to secure this job. If I did, I want to learn as much as I can about this type of field of work, for the citizens, I mean. For the people. I'd maybe like to someday start my own to assist people who cannot afford to seek treatment, or medicine, or might not even know what to do. I've been doing this for a while now, and I still have very little of a clue as to what I'm exactly supposed to do. I think it could benefit a lot of people, as well.
That's all I've got for today. Wish me luck. Hopefully by this time tomorrow, I will be a gainfully employed individual.
-Until tomorrow.
I can't tell you how many hours I listened to that album, and this song specifically when I worked at the Comfort Inn. Something about the atmosphere of that album, of that song...really made those dead and unending hours more than what they should have been. It made it this...I want to say journey. I tend to daydream quite a lot, and with this in the background...I'd drift for hours on end, and it'd honestly make the nights seem so less depressing and pointless.
These guys put on this amazing live show. Literally, two members of the band strap on helmets and beat the shit out of each others heads with drum sticks. While admittedly that actually sounds really kitchy and pointless, it actually flows with the mood and demeanor of this band. Also, imagine a relatively off the radar band going on Letterman, and doing something like that? It was awesome.
I'm actually posting another songs from their latest release, which was amazing, called Neon Bible (song is the same name). What's so special about this performance? Well consider this: There's a tuba, two violinists, a person playing a xylophone, saxophone, as well as a guitar and a dude ripping pages out of a magazine as a percussion instrument and a guy banging on the roof for additional umph. Oh, also there in an elevator while someone is videotaping it. There also might be a few other instruments as well.
Starting tomorrow I have a job interview for a citizens advocacy group. The aim is to try and lower "big businesses" like the oil conglomerates from continuously snuffing out any alternative fuel sources, thusly keeping America dependent on foreign power.
Along with that, they also work in the community with the down and out, which honestly is something I can truly get behind. This is a job that is completely opposite of what I did for the New York Government. It's a non-profit organization that worries more about helping people, instead of fastidiously expediting peoples shattered lives in order to make that much more money.
It's a job that I feel I'd be a great fit for, and I really hope something can work out. It's in the Valley, which is quite a ways away, which means I'd be making my big move out of this nowhere nothing desert town, into one of the bigger cities in the nation.
I'm nervous, anxious and so awfully excited.
I decided to change a few days ago, and already I can see some things beginning to rotate into that favor. So please, wish me luck.
The downside of this position is that it appears to only be a summer position, but if I'm working I have an idea it might be that much easier to get a job. Plus I've learned a lot about my finances, and when it's time to scrimp, and when it's okay to splurge a little bit.
I'd like to secure this job. If I did, I want to learn as much as I can about this type of field of work, for the citizens, I mean. For the people. I'd maybe like to someday start my own to assist people who cannot afford to seek treatment, or medicine, or might not even know what to do. I've been doing this for a while now, and I still have very little of a clue as to what I'm exactly supposed to do. I think it could benefit a lot of people, as well.
That's all I've got for today. Wish me luck. Hopefully by this time tomorrow, I will be a gainfully employed individual.
-Until tomorrow.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I gave everything to you, it didn't do anything for me. (Day 166)
Today's lyric comes from Manchester Orchestra's amazing song, "I've Got Friends". It's off of their latest release, Mean Everything to Nothing. This honestly is that band you should be checking out. You know the term wall of sound? They obliterate that concept completely. At times they dull you into this false sense for how the song will go, and then they just explode into this rock fury. I really hope you enjoy it, please check it out. Oh, and this song deserves to go to ten. Turn it loud as loud can be.
The other night I had the push I needed to have. After three years of blaming myself for something, how poorly a relationship ended, I got the closure I needed. I no longer bare the weight of feeling so useless and worthless.
I heard she's flunking out of ASU, though. And that bums me out. She had a lot going for her, and she's merely settling for a misguided concept of happiness.
You ever get that wake up call? I got mine loud and clear at 3:34am.
Sometimes you have to be willing to accept those charges.
But it took me three years for this, and now I feel like it was worth the wait. I think the next step in personal evolution is to take all I've learned, and to not just willingly always accept that I'm the bad guy right away.
I've got friends in all the right places, and at the strangest times they give you the boost you never even knew you needed. I guess it just takes some time to let anything of substance really set up roots and blossom in your life. Despite how hard things can get, it's the sucker punch from lady luck that's gonna get you through a long night and a shit day.
So to them, man, thanks. I don't wanna ask for help, but sometimes it just happens. It's like working on a crossword puzzle, and giving up on a word, and then later on looking back at those boxes and it randomly dawning on you while you're trying to figure out 15 across, 9 letters for an eternal wait.
I think it's so eerie, though. A few days ago I talked about this, and wanting closure, and then randomly getting it from someone who hadn't even seen the update...I don't know.
It's the exorcism of a ghost that's been living with me so long, I thought it was just another appendage.
-Until tomorrow.
The other night I had the push I needed to have. After three years of blaming myself for something, how poorly a relationship ended, I got the closure I needed. I no longer bare the weight of feeling so useless and worthless.
I heard she's flunking out of ASU, though. And that bums me out. She had a lot going for her, and she's merely settling for a misguided concept of happiness.
You ever get that wake up call? I got mine loud and clear at 3:34am.
Sometimes you have to be willing to accept those charges.
But it took me three years for this, and now I feel like it was worth the wait. I think the next step in personal evolution is to take all I've learned, and to not just willingly always accept that I'm the bad guy right away.
I've got friends in all the right places, and at the strangest times they give you the boost you never even knew you needed. I guess it just takes some time to let anything of substance really set up roots and blossom in your life. Despite how hard things can get, it's the sucker punch from lady luck that's gonna get you through a long night and a shit day.
So to them, man, thanks. I don't wanna ask for help, but sometimes it just happens. It's like working on a crossword puzzle, and giving up on a word, and then later on looking back at those boxes and it randomly dawning on you while you're trying to figure out 15 across, 9 letters for an eternal wait.
I think it's so eerie, though. A few days ago I talked about this, and wanting closure, and then randomly getting it from someone who hadn't even seen the update...I don't know.
It's the exorcism of a ghost that's been living with me so long, I thought it was just another appendage.
-Until tomorrow.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Should I give up, or should i just keep chasing pavements even if it leads nowhere? (Day 165)
I've decided a few things. First and foremost pertains to this blog.
Each and every single blog has a song lyric in it, and I choose those lyrics because they either closely mirror what the blog is about, or on a deeper level, how it is that I'm feeling at that direct moment. So from now on, I'll try my best to post either a video or just audio version of the song on the page, because these songs really do deserve to be heard in one way or the other. At least I feel that, truly.
At the very, very least I'll be giving the name of the song and the artist. Such as today's song. It comes from Adele, who, I'm not sure how I slept on her for so long because her voice in magnificent. The song is called "Chasing Pavements" and chances are, you've heard the song, or at the very least when you listen to it, you're going to feel like you've heard it before.
It's one of those songs that has that feel to it, you know? That feel that leaves you thinking that this song had never at some point in the history of existence not existed. Me grammar you good.
But her voice, I can't get over it. So enjoy!
Secondly, I need to start generating cash. I hate doing anything remotely capitalistic, because I don't feel anything I'll ever offer the world is worth any money whatsoever. But I'm seriously debating monetizing this blog, because for some reason it will see dips for a little bit, and then surge back up in viewership, and I'm so fucking happy about that I just can't iterate it.
I do feel that the recent decrease has been because my mind, and my heart have been other places. I don't know how to deal with certain happenings in my life, and because of that, I feel that some of the overall quality has dropped here, because I don't know what to say, or how to say it. But honestly, this is still something important to me, because it will always be the documentation of the day to day with someone who struggles with his own mental walls.
The recent bout with depression has really taken a lot out of me. The medication has ceased working whatsoever, and I find myself slipping more and more into a reclusive and withdrawn state. I'm not too sure I'll ever be able to get out of it, honestly. But it always feels that way, too, when you're down in a hole with absolutely no idea on how to get out of it.
Truth be told, I've started to run out of strength completely. The strength to fight, the will to push and keep running. The things I want in my life never work out, and I still fight like Hell for lost causes, and in the end I miss the boat completely on what I should be looking for.
The personal changes, honestly, have been numerous and plenty. I used to be able to pick a little bit of fun about myself, but still feel that who I was at the core was someone I was proud of. Two months ago, nearly three now, I everything came to a crashing head. While I feel that the book I wrote at that period of time, "Open Roads and Brick Walls" was the best that I could personally ever do with whatever I had at that time, and I still feel proud and excited about it, I've just kind of lost the will to keep pushing pen to paper. I find it hard to differentiate what's a joke I'm making about myself, and what a joke I really feel like I am.
I've never been an open person. Not in the least.
But I get absorbed in these books. As I've mentioned a lot here recently, I reread Catcher in the Rye.
Finishing the book, it was like a well broke somewhere inside of me. I've felt lost my entire life, without one semblance of purpose or direction. Just a general idea. The irony is some people would tell me, "Why worry about that?" when I've always been so impulsive. The thing is, I can't afford to anymore. I get careless and sloppy with the wrongs things, and in the end the only thing left is my own personal wreckage, and me staring at the edges of it all wondering what the hell just happened.
As easily as I used to jump into situations, I'd turn my back and run the moment something reared its ugly head.
To say I've burned a lot of bridges is a bit of an understatement. But in the end, I think I wind up doing it because with so many things in my life, I just don't get an amount of closure. So much of my life is an open end I've been wanting to shut, but those pages keep blowing in the breeze in the back of my mind, reminding me I don't even get the privilege of a book marker.
So Adele raises a good question:
Do I give up, or do I keep chasing pavements?
Either way, you're bound to crash. So in the end, whats the proper course of action?
I think first to go is this beard. Every time I touch it, or accidentally catch a glimpse of it in the mirror, I'm reminded how much I've generally stopped caring and have given up. I can't afford to keep doing this, not when I'm pushing (egads!!!!! end of the world as we know it...) 24.
I know it seems dumb. I really do. But it really does feel like a reminder of life gone to hell in a hand basket.
The second most important thing is I'm going to push really hard to find an agent. Honestly, if anyone can help me, or at least push me in the right direction...it would be so much appreciated. This is what I want, this is all I know, and I'm not even that good at it, but honestly I can't work in fast food anymore. I will spit in every motherfuckers burger.
Thirdly, it's time to end this wagon wheel. Every single time I get my heart hurt, I fuck everything. I still highly doubt I'll ever pursue a relationship again, and that's fine. I guess at this point I'm just looking for fun, and to forget. But that doesn't excuse being an asshole about it, and taking a mile when I was only permitted six inches (hey yo! I made myself sad...)
Fourthly, I need to get out of this place. Maybe for a week, maybe less, maybe longer.
You ever get a draw? Like, being drawn to something compulsively, and not know why? Lately two things have been like that in my life. A person I barely even spoke to (and not remotely sober on my end, mind you) and a place I've never been.
That place is England. I've always wanted to go. Something about the constant rain, and just...the pure vibrancy that country exudes. The history. Especially London. I keep watching movies like "Shaun of the Dead" and I wish to God that that was me swinging a cricket bat at some bloke zombies head. I realize that statement might be a bit much for people, but it's honestly how I feel.
When I was a kid, and it's only grown since then, I've seen myself one day winding up in Europe. I know now that that is something I want to work for, and try out for myself.
I'll always be Captain America, mind you. But my mindset has never been that of a particular American, mostly because even though I'm half Hispanic, and half Irish, I still regard England as the motherland. At least the step-motherland. Truthfully, the motherland would be Mesopotamia or Egypt, wouldn't it? Digression! (Catcher in the Rye reference, sorry.(
The point is, when I day dreamed as a kid, I always wound up on a rainy day in London, just walking endlessly. Or even now, it's either there or Madrid or Paris. I refuse to die on American soil, and I refuse even more adamantly that my carcass not rest on American soil. I demand my ashes be poured on shit-fuck Shakespeare's grave; cause fuck him. That's why.
I also refuse to let my final resting place in pieces be the same country that has Kurt Cobain, eventually Dick Cheney (time's ticking, motherfucker) and GG Allin.
But the ambiance is what I've always dreamed of. It's why one day I'll live in Seattle. I've lived in the desert so long, I've lost what it was too appreciate rain, and that's something I really miss.
I want to wind back up in Albany in the near future. To take pictures, and get an amount of closure I never allowed myself. It seems weird, and trite, but it feels like it didn't happen. So much of my life feels like it didn't fucking happen, and I cannot stand that in the least.
Albany...
Earlier today it got very dark and cloudy, and you could smell the rain in the air. Immediately my mind was taken back to this day where I was spun outside of a Church on Central Ave. It was only four in the afternoon, but the clouds covered the sky in this black sagging cotton.
I sat on those steps for hours, and let the rain wash over me. I still remember how cold it was, and how acutely you could feel the electricity in the air, as those cottony clouds ripped alive with veins of blue and white, and in the same breath those veins disappeared forever. I wish like hell you were there with me.
Life is like lightning. It happens so quickly, that if you blink you just may miss it. But if you happen to see it, and hear the thunder rolling afterward, then you should consider yourself lucky.
See, it's over really quickly. But if it hit you, I guarantee you, you'd never forget it.
So do we keep chasing pavements? We know we're gonna eventually catch up to it, and smash our teeth out on the ground. But maybe it's not the crash, it's the fall that has the most character of the trip in itself. And maybe that's something I need to really, really learn.
I've been lucky in a lot of ways. And very, very unlucky in some. In the end, it's left me scratching my head. You don't get out of this life without a scratch, so maybe that's why you kick and scream so damned hard when you're born. You already know what's in store, in a sense.
It's been an amazing ride, though. I'll give it that much. But there's a lot more of it left, and I need to figure out how to reserve my energy and not wind up out of breath before I even really start.
Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements even if it goes nowhere?
Hell yes.
-Until tomorrow.
Each and every single blog has a song lyric in it, and I choose those lyrics because they either closely mirror what the blog is about, or on a deeper level, how it is that I'm feeling at that direct moment. So from now on, I'll try my best to post either a video or just audio version of the song on the page, because these songs really do deserve to be heard in one way or the other. At least I feel that, truly.
At the very, very least I'll be giving the name of the song and the artist. Such as today's song. It comes from Adele, who, I'm not sure how I slept on her for so long because her voice in magnificent. The song is called "Chasing Pavements" and chances are, you've heard the song, or at the very least when you listen to it, you're going to feel like you've heard it before.
It's one of those songs that has that feel to it, you know? That feel that leaves you thinking that this song had never at some point in the history of existence not existed. Me grammar you good.
But her voice, I can't get over it. So enjoy!
Secondly, I need to start generating cash. I hate doing anything remotely capitalistic, because I don't feel anything I'll ever offer the world is worth any money whatsoever. But I'm seriously debating monetizing this blog, because for some reason it will see dips for a little bit, and then surge back up in viewership, and I'm so fucking happy about that I just can't iterate it.
I do feel that the recent decrease has been because my mind, and my heart have been other places. I don't know how to deal with certain happenings in my life, and because of that, I feel that some of the overall quality has dropped here, because I don't know what to say, or how to say it. But honestly, this is still something important to me, because it will always be the documentation of the day to day with someone who struggles with his own mental walls.
The recent bout with depression has really taken a lot out of me. The medication has ceased working whatsoever, and I find myself slipping more and more into a reclusive and withdrawn state. I'm not too sure I'll ever be able to get out of it, honestly. But it always feels that way, too, when you're down in a hole with absolutely no idea on how to get out of it.
Truth be told, I've started to run out of strength completely. The strength to fight, the will to push and keep running. The things I want in my life never work out, and I still fight like Hell for lost causes, and in the end I miss the boat completely on what I should be looking for.
The personal changes, honestly, have been numerous and plenty. I used to be able to pick a little bit of fun about myself, but still feel that who I was at the core was someone I was proud of. Two months ago, nearly three now, I everything came to a crashing head. While I feel that the book I wrote at that period of time, "Open Roads and Brick Walls" was the best that I could personally ever do with whatever I had at that time, and I still feel proud and excited about it, I've just kind of lost the will to keep pushing pen to paper. I find it hard to differentiate what's a joke I'm making about myself, and what a joke I really feel like I am.
I've never been an open person. Not in the least.
But I get absorbed in these books. As I've mentioned a lot here recently, I reread Catcher in the Rye.
Finishing the book, it was like a well broke somewhere inside of me. I've felt lost my entire life, without one semblance of purpose or direction. Just a general idea. The irony is some people would tell me, "Why worry about that?" when I've always been so impulsive. The thing is, I can't afford to anymore. I get careless and sloppy with the wrongs things, and in the end the only thing left is my own personal wreckage, and me staring at the edges of it all wondering what the hell just happened.
As easily as I used to jump into situations, I'd turn my back and run the moment something reared its ugly head.
To say I've burned a lot of bridges is a bit of an understatement. But in the end, I think I wind up doing it because with so many things in my life, I just don't get an amount of closure. So much of my life is an open end I've been wanting to shut, but those pages keep blowing in the breeze in the back of my mind, reminding me I don't even get the privilege of a book marker.
So Adele raises a good question:
Do I give up, or do I keep chasing pavements?
Either way, you're bound to crash. So in the end, whats the proper course of action?
I think first to go is this beard. Every time I touch it, or accidentally catch a glimpse of it in the mirror, I'm reminded how much I've generally stopped caring and have given up. I can't afford to keep doing this, not when I'm pushing (egads!!!!! end of the world as we know it...) 24.
I know it seems dumb. I really do. But it really does feel like a reminder of life gone to hell in a hand basket.
The second most important thing is I'm going to push really hard to find an agent. Honestly, if anyone can help me, or at least push me in the right direction...it would be so much appreciated. This is what I want, this is all I know, and I'm not even that good at it, but honestly I can't work in fast food anymore. I will spit in every motherfuckers burger.
Thirdly, it's time to end this wagon wheel. Every single time I get my heart hurt, I fuck everything. I still highly doubt I'll ever pursue a relationship again, and that's fine. I guess at this point I'm just looking for fun, and to forget. But that doesn't excuse being an asshole about it, and taking a mile when I was only permitted six inches (hey yo! I made myself sad...)
Fourthly, I need to get out of this place. Maybe for a week, maybe less, maybe longer.
You ever get a draw? Like, being drawn to something compulsively, and not know why? Lately two things have been like that in my life. A person I barely even spoke to (and not remotely sober on my end, mind you) and a place I've never been.
That place is England. I've always wanted to go. Something about the constant rain, and just...the pure vibrancy that country exudes. The history. Especially London. I keep watching movies like "Shaun of the Dead" and I wish to God that that was me swinging a cricket bat at some bloke zombies head. I realize that statement might be a bit much for people, but it's honestly how I feel.
When I was a kid, and it's only grown since then, I've seen myself one day winding up in Europe. I know now that that is something I want to work for, and try out for myself.
I'll always be Captain America, mind you. But my mindset has never been that of a particular American, mostly because even though I'm half Hispanic, and half Irish, I still regard England as the motherland. At least the step-motherland. Truthfully, the motherland would be Mesopotamia or Egypt, wouldn't it? Digression! (Catcher in the Rye reference, sorry.(
The point is, when I day dreamed as a kid, I always wound up on a rainy day in London, just walking endlessly. Or even now, it's either there or Madrid or Paris. I refuse to die on American soil, and I refuse even more adamantly that my carcass not rest on American soil. I demand my ashes be poured on shit-fuck Shakespeare's grave; cause fuck him. That's why.
I also refuse to let my final resting place in pieces be the same country that has Kurt Cobain, eventually Dick Cheney (time's ticking, motherfucker) and GG Allin.
But the ambiance is what I've always dreamed of. It's why one day I'll live in Seattle. I've lived in the desert so long, I've lost what it was too appreciate rain, and that's something I really miss.
I want to wind back up in Albany in the near future. To take pictures, and get an amount of closure I never allowed myself. It seems weird, and trite, but it feels like it didn't happen. So much of my life feels like it didn't fucking happen, and I cannot stand that in the least.
Albany...
Earlier today it got very dark and cloudy, and you could smell the rain in the air. Immediately my mind was taken back to this day where I was spun outside of a Church on Central Ave. It was only four in the afternoon, but the clouds covered the sky in this black sagging cotton.
I sat on those steps for hours, and let the rain wash over me. I still remember how cold it was, and how acutely you could feel the electricity in the air, as those cottony clouds ripped alive with veins of blue and white, and in the same breath those veins disappeared forever. I wish like hell you were there with me.
Life is like lightning. It happens so quickly, that if you blink you just may miss it. But if you happen to see it, and hear the thunder rolling afterward, then you should consider yourself lucky.
See, it's over really quickly. But if it hit you, I guarantee you, you'd never forget it.
So do we keep chasing pavements? We know we're gonna eventually catch up to it, and smash our teeth out on the ground. But maybe it's not the crash, it's the fall that has the most character of the trip in itself. And maybe that's something I need to really, really learn.
I've been lucky in a lot of ways. And very, very unlucky in some. In the end, it's left me scratching my head. You don't get out of this life without a scratch, so maybe that's why you kick and scream so damned hard when you're born. You already know what's in store, in a sense.
It's been an amazing ride, though. I'll give it that much. But there's a lot more of it left, and I need to figure out how to reserve my energy and not wind up out of breath before I even really start.
Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements even if it goes nowhere?
Hell yes.
-Until tomorrow.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Someone tell me what the underworld is like. (Day 164)
I saw her picture today, and goddamn, she looks so happy.
She's a big, big, big piece of my past, and I can't touch her, see her, hear her or talk to her anymore. It partly drives me insane to know that somewhere in this whole calamitous existence known as life, things once seemed to make sense, and I was so close...so close and so near being happy.
What the fuck am I doing now?
I can't stop thinking, you know? What's after this conscious existence? What awaits in the ether? Do you relive what just happened, over and over and over. Maybe that's it. Maybe we've died a thousand times before, but our lives are stuck on a loop. Maybe Deja Vu is just overlapping with yourself at the same time? Shit, it makes just as much sense some guy in the sky judging you for every step of the road.
And I look at her picture, and at times I just...wish I could relive it again. Not even change it, just...fully appreciate it for what it was, because I should have known there's no way it would have ever lasted. And it's not that I even want it too, for Gods sake. I just want to appreciate it once again, because I don't have it in me to ever lay myself on the line again. Yeah, I might only be 23, but I've seen enough and felt enough to sustain me for the rest of my life.
And so I look at her face, and I remember missing that first time. I look at her smile, and realize I'm not capable of putting it on anyone's face anymore like I did hers. And maybe I never was all that hot at it before, but for that moment in time, it's what I owned.
I'm glad she's happy somewhere else now. I know I'm better off as well.
But that's a piece of me I'll never be able to reclaim, which is fine. It just feels extremely naked.
"We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl."
-Until tomorrow.
She's a big, big, big piece of my past, and I can't touch her, see her, hear her or talk to her anymore. It partly drives me insane to know that somewhere in this whole calamitous existence known as life, things once seemed to make sense, and I was so close...so close and so near being happy.
What the fuck am I doing now?
I can't stop thinking, you know? What's after this conscious existence? What awaits in the ether? Do you relive what just happened, over and over and over. Maybe that's it. Maybe we've died a thousand times before, but our lives are stuck on a loop. Maybe Deja Vu is just overlapping with yourself at the same time? Shit, it makes just as much sense some guy in the sky judging you for every step of the road.
And I look at her picture, and at times I just...wish I could relive it again. Not even change it, just...fully appreciate it for what it was, because I should have known there's no way it would have ever lasted. And it's not that I even want it too, for Gods sake. I just want to appreciate it once again, because I don't have it in me to ever lay myself on the line again. Yeah, I might only be 23, but I've seen enough and felt enough to sustain me for the rest of my life.
And so I look at her face, and I remember missing that first time. I look at her smile, and realize I'm not capable of putting it on anyone's face anymore like I did hers. And maybe I never was all that hot at it before, but for that moment in time, it's what I owned.
I'm glad she's happy somewhere else now. I know I'm better off as well.
But that's a piece of me I'll never be able to reclaim, which is fine. It just feels extremely naked.
"We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl."
-Until tomorrow.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Lately I been hard to reach, I've been to long on my own. (Day 163)
You can listen to the new Eminem album here: I find the whole album pretty decent, but there are some stinkers here and there. Overall, I'm just fucking glad it isn't TI, or whatever the flavor of the week is.
I think it's interesting to hear such a prolific rapper put out an album out like this. Outside of the obvious singles, and some of the more...jokey tracks, there's some pretty confrontational and confessional songs on here. Detailing a trip into hell of losing a close friend, a continuously failed relationship and the loss of your best friend? I'm amazed he only got hooked on prescription meds.
Especially the tracks 'Deja Vu' and 'Beautiful'.
I really hope a lot of people don't overlook this album because it doesn't have his typical hooks, or that usual "angry" vibe too it. Sure, it's got anger to it, I'm not saying it doesn't, but it's more of a reserved melancholy of a person who's been basically reclusive for nearly half a decade.
I'm off to listen to this...a lot. I waited quite a bit for this.
-Until tomorrow
I think it's interesting to hear such a prolific rapper put out an album out like this. Outside of the obvious singles, and some of the more...jokey tracks, there's some pretty confrontational and confessional songs on here. Detailing a trip into hell of losing a close friend, a continuously failed relationship and the loss of your best friend? I'm amazed he only got hooked on prescription meds.
Especially the tracks 'Deja Vu' and 'Beautiful'.
I really hope a lot of people don't overlook this album because it doesn't have his typical hooks, or that usual "angry" vibe too it. Sure, it's got anger to it, I'm not saying it doesn't, but it's more of a reserved melancholy of a person who's been basically reclusive for nearly half a decade.
I'm off to listen to this...a lot. I waited quite a bit for this.
-Until tomorrow
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