Getting Older, Getting Faker

I've realized that recently, even though I've been going through a ton of change, I've been less prone to think too deeply about things.

Maybe I've worked things out in my head so I don't ask the questions, but I know that's not really true. Maybe I've learned to accept certain things as impossible to determine so I leave them alone; that's not true either. The better answer is probably that I just don't care anymore. I'm just the fat kid with a bowl of ice cream, eating it because it tastes good, unconcerned about the consequences in the future.

I can't lie, I'm doing ok, maybe even good from time to time, but I have grown older and as much as I don't miss the pain of youth, I'm starting to miss the fire. I used to think in terms of best and worst, if not for practical purposes, at least as a stone on which to build, but now everything is in practical terms; no real innovation. Or to use an analogy, I know I'll never be a marathon runner so now I just shuffle my feet.

As much as this feels better, it feels colder. Like the whole world has taught me to be happy and healthy but has forgotten that there's a man beneath this skin. A man who wants to experience love and compassion stronger than most will ever see. I tasted it once and it's driven me mad ever since. I know I'm supposed to move past this, to accept the plastic relationships and mechanical sex as perfection, but I know I'll regret it forever if I do.

All the thanks in the world to Jenn Wasner of Wye Oak for making me remember what it is to long for something. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5B4KS7GP9A

72

72... 72 minutes... 72 FUCKING MINUTES, and that's it. I watch 72 minutes of Fight Club (yep, never seen it) and my computer says "No more! You pay now!" I'd be happy to go pay a company that I recognize (anyone hear of a failing movie renting company?), 'cept that's not allowed in this country; no copyright laws.

Sidebar: Damn, that probably isn't great for trying to be a penguin in the crowd... whatever.

Anyway, that's probably a bad place to leave that movie. If you get to that point and just leave, you have an urge to be an asshole and punch something, which my brain reminds me is a really bad idea. However (I love that word "however", it's a cop-out for screaming grammatical errors) Anyway, as I was saying: However, as I was watching this movie from my bed with the blanket that matches my furniture and the pillowcase and sheets that match my chair cushions, I couldn't help but realize the stupidity of my day-to-day existence.

I've been bored with mere existence before, this is nothing new, just a new reminder. I've pushed the limits for a rush, been drunk every day in a week, lost friends to similar things, and leveled the fuck out. Now what do I do? I go places and take pictures or something like that; try to do something passively through a lens or listening or something, and I'm never satisfied.

I've got to get out. Got to live and experience in the now. Got to get out of my routine. I've got to do it soon...

Plan: Tomorrow, after work, I'm getting out. Out of my home, out of my comfort zone, without a plan. See where the spirals take me!

Listening to Lateralus by Tool

Feeling Less

So how do I explain this? An absence; a lack of something. I feel very little...

Why bother, it's all been said before; I'm depressed.

I guess I've known it for a long while, but I just hate using that word "depressed". Maybe because it has a stigma, it screams that I don't work hard, I don't care for myself or others, or I'm not active or whatever. It's just not true. I'm consistently recognized for my good work, I'm in better shape than I've ever been in my life, I'm in a band and socialize reasonably well (well, not that good, but it's good for me), I just feel pointless and bored.

I'm 23 in a few days, what can I even say? I have no plans for my birthday. No party or friends over or cake or even a good dinner. Why should I? I won't feel a damn thing. I played video games with a girl the other day and while she got excited about the game and hanging out, I FELT NOTHING! Just a little awkward like the one guy who's not crying at a B rate drama.

Like I said before, this is a classic symptom of depression, but I don't know what to do about it. Guess I'll try to "keep on existing in the now" as Eyedea would say. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z9-eKhCukW8

Later yall

Prone to Wander

There you are
20 something
High school's been gone a while
But part of you never could go

Friends are getting married
Buying houses, settling down
You've got your car,
And a part time job in this town

So don't say to me
You're doing fine and have never been better
Your feet aren't prone to wander
And I've never been prone to believe you

So see what you see
Live all your dreams
But part of it feels hollow
And you don't know what to do

So don't say to me
You're doing fine and have never been better
Your feet aren't prone to wander
And I've never been prone to believe you

I know what they say
You'll find your place someday
But right now it doesn't seem that way
And I know I can't convince you

So don't say to me
You're doing fine and have never been better
Your feet aren't prone to wander
And I've never been prone to believe you

I got off a long Skype call with a friend I haven't talked to in a long time. She had her kids around her and her life is well on the way to how a life should be. I guess it's in my genes and I'm ready to settle down and raise a family, but it's just not there. I wrote this from the perspective of someone outside looking in, maybe because I'm a little embarrassed that it's about me. "Please Speak Well of Me" by The Weepies inspired the flow and some little lyrical things.

Do I?

Everything has a place where it's meant to be, but it's hard to say when it comes to me
Season's turn, water churns, days fly by faster than the leaves falling from the trees

Do I believe what I believe?
Do I trust what I see?
Do I believe anything?

Feel my heart inside my chest, feel water on my face, feel refreshed
Faces never stay the same, but some things never change, much like today

Do I believe what I believe?
Do I trust what I see?
Do I believe anything?

Falling water from the sky lifts me up to new highs, I never smile in sunny weather
I never write a happy letter, I never lie, I can't decide

Do I believe what I believe?
Do I trust what I see?
Do I believe anything?

When right and wrong is a tower made of glass, to be smashed, with its pieces on the floor
When my song is a weak attempt to say, I was wrong, and it never really mattered

Do I believe what I believe?
Do I trust what I see?
Do I believe anything?


I was listening to Season's Trees off of Rome by Danger Mouse and Daniele Luppi, sung by Norah Jones when I started to write this. It's fairly vague and touches a few subjects. It was more driven by the music and the brooding sound than any particular thought at the time. Regardless, I don't mind how it turned out.

Let it Grow Shallow

I'm so weak, but you're so fragile.
So I won't drop my disorientation on you
Confusing to understand, reasonable to the line
Never mind, not useful
Not to me
Not to you
Especially not to you
You're recovering
I'm spinning, drunk in reason
Lay it on, thick butter on bread
No, I won't, I won't, I won't
It's all I want to do
But you're fragile, so fragile
fragile, so so fragile
You're fragile, fragile
And discipline is all I know
So I can't lay it on you
My very best friend
Always in my mind
But our friendship must grow shallow
As you get sober, and I get madder

Say goodbye, let it grow shallow!
Say goodbye, let it grow shallow!
Say goodbye, let it grow shallow!
Say goodbye, let it grow shallow!

Holy crap! I forgot about that one though my computer says I typed it last month. I REALLY want to make this into a song. Basically, this is about my best friend, who's getting her life back together after a lot of drunkenness. She's in a very fragile state right now, and a close relationship with her from me is probably not the healthiest thing for her. She's my best friend so what can I do? Her well being is the only thing that could make me avoid a relationship with her, so I'll let it grow shallow.

Who ever needed a title anyway

2011 has not been kind. It's mostly been work, a lot of work, with dull areas in between. I don't like my job, but I really don't like being idle, so I want to work to make the end of the day come faster, but I don't like the end of the day because that means the next day is closer, and yet again, more work. The cycle is terrible, and there's very little of it to give it value. Even these precious moments are quickly forgotten in the stress of work... then it continues.

I'm 22. I know this is the time to be living or something stupid and cliche like that, but I'm just wasting the year, and I have no control of my position. Even worse, I think if I did "have control", I wouldn't be able to pull out of this death spiral.

Sorry for diving into this misery again, but there's not much else to say. Maybe there's a reason my best friend can't get too close.

A Sea of Faces

There are 7 billion people on the planet, and not a single one cares in the least what I have to say.

Sorry bout how sad this one is. It was a bad, lonely day.

Have Some Sympathy for Me

I find myself here again
Tired but not enough to sleep
Bored but not enough to stop
On the net, idly read of someone else's misfortune
Staring at the clock, typing my thoughts
Back them up, they'll never be read
Except by me, and maybe I better not remember
Let me forget them all and just be

The world turns so slowly, but so much time is past
3 years and the peak of life is gone, yes I regret it
The world is so mad now, with children hurting one another
But a generation begs for freedom
Another one grows old
Another is born
Another dies
And the sun will rise tomorrow as it always did

It's another day, another regret
Another tear that won't fall from my eyes
Another day to forget
I'm bored of this, and the next year
I can't even finish this, there's nothing left
Not a reason, a rhyme
And everything you said was truth was untrue
But you sold your house for a tulip
And there's nothing I can do
My final friend
Gone too

Follow all your dreams, but have some sympathy for me

This one deserves a little explanation: When you're a sad, miserable SOB like me, you resent everyone who is not. Some of this is justified. For example, pretty much everyone I know who lives a "happy" life has shut off some of their being to achieve that. A person who values honesty as much as I do hates this shut down. On the other hand, I'm jealous as all hell, because they're living a life I want but don't even understand. Again, there are faces and names attached.

The line "you sold your house for a tulip" refers to Tulip Mania and pretty much means you sold something valuable for something worthless that is trendy at the time.

All I do now is Pretend

All I do now is pretend

How long ago was it when I could say
There's a simple reason for the day
It seems forever, in a different world
And I can't see it, fog covers the lens

All I do now is pretend

How long ago did I walk these woods
The wet earth smelled fresh and new
But an apartment complex is being built
And there's sawdust in the air

So all I do now is pretend

How long ago was it when I met you
And our friendship was everything
Now you're distant and I don't know you
Seems all good things end

All I can do is pretend
All I do now is pretend

There are names and faces that are placed with the last sentence, but bygones are... What the fuck is a bygone?! Whatever. Times change, shit happens, sometimes (mostly) I can't deal with it and I write poetry. Yes, all I do is pretend I'm happy, that there's meaning, but all I'm really doing is pretending for the benefit of others and waiting for anything better to come along.

A Short Conversation

The question was simple, but the implications of the answer, whatever it may be, were incredible.

“Do you fear what's coming next?”

I held the thought over in my head and turned it round and round like candy in my mouth, feeling it every way.

“No”

An expression of anger quickly passed through her face, believing what I said was a lie. I noticed it and waited for an accusation, but it faded just as quickly as it came.

“Do you...”

She cocked her head slightly as she considered her words.

The inevitable question was coming, as she tried to uncover the lie by locking me in how I responded.

“How could you not fear the future, after all you've said, you seem terrified by it.”

It was true in a sense. Only the finest line divided how I felt and absolute terror. It was, in fact, the biggest risk I had taken in years, but I hadn't lied, I wasn't scared.

“Hmm...”

Hand on my chin as I considered how I would respond. A question like that required a careful answer; deserved a careful answer. Like two countries at truce, both trying to speak truthfully and clearly, but not giving ammunition to the other side either.

“I told you everything that could go wrong. It's a risk, but I calculated it. I had to consider all those things, but in the end, I still decided like I did.

“And that doesn't bother you?”

Her response was swift this time. The question was sitting on the tip of her tongue. Like the third brigade in a division, waiting in reserve for the perfect moment to strike.

I'd grown tired of these jabs by now and realized a partial admission was in order. It would be a victory for both of us in a way. I could accept that.

“You can't let it bother you. I guess it did at first, but there's no use recalculating it over and over again in your head. It's not like anything's changed.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before a sound came back I finished my statement.

“So no, I don't fear it”

Her mouth shut without a sound. The line of thought was complete and she knew better than to press the issue.

I wrote this a while ago, and I remember it being a blast to write. It's only my second try at written dialogue. This is about a decision I made to probably change careers and how someone may take this so-called bad life decision. "She" is actually my sister, who is a very practical person and believes strongly in a "proper" way to live. I think if we had a long conversation about this topic, she'd respond something like this. As you can see, I tried to delve into the unsaid aspects of a conversation, and the battle conversation can be.

Freedom

Where am I?
The sun rises differently here
I'm coughing from the smog
And it's cold
Why am I here?

For success
I could be successful
But the video plays
And I don't want it to define me
I need to be decent
And this is a last resort
As I stand as if attending a funeral
With tears in my eyes
No, the greatest thing I could desire is not success

I can hold my head high
For the potential I will not accept
A staggering thought to most
I will define my path
And I will dare to be different
Different from what's hip and what's custom
From the chords of the world around me
And I will be free

There are some references here that are too specific for me to mention and stay anonymous, but there is one paraphrase of a famous quote in there that may explain a little if you see it. This one is a pretty heart-felt conviction.

A Good Day

So my blog is mostly miserable and shit, but today was good. I got an ass-load of sleep and was well-rested for the day, then I was more or less told I was going to be recognized for doing a good job, then I had a person I greatly respect tell me that I had what it takes to do a very difficult job, far beyond what I do now, THEN I had this conversation with a beautiful girl that I've wanted to talk to for the last month, and she's interested in me too. So DAMN! I deserve to be allowed to break the rules of grammar and have a long-ass run-on sentence for a day like this.

Some days are really fucking good. With all my jacked up emotions and logic, I still recognize this. Maybe I'm not the hopeless loser I usually think I am. So fuck. I wish I could apologize to all the people who held me when I was a downer, or maybe this could serve as a thank you. Every once in a while, even I have really good days, and all you who held me, shit, who still hold me, are the reason for it.

Later yall!

Regret

Another wasted day
Regret
Another stone to drag along
Regret
Another pain felt alone
Regret
Another day to try to forget
Regret
Another day, another down
Regret
Another wasted day

Hey!

Hey, read this one like you're talking, it flows better.

So here goes. Shit. So here's the deal. I don't have anything to talk about. I just want to blog. Maybe I think it's unique that the fucking blog doesn't have a purpose, or maybe I'm just bored. All I want to do is talk.

I've got a lot of things I could talk about, and a couple I forgot. I'm scared that I'm becoming my miserable dad. I'm realizing that a 22 year old virgin is gonna die from nerves if he does it the first time. I know I can't socially adapt. And I know that women pull their kids nearer to them when I'm there. I also know I only watch them carefully cause a 6'2 guy trips on the little guys if he's not careful.

I'm so fully aware of my mistakes, but I don't know what's good about me. I know it's there. I know people rely on me, they trust me, and not just at work, but I don't know why. I don't deeply understand the good in me, I only understand the evil. WHY!?

I'm frustrated, and like my best friend would say "very confused". I need to reset, but my brain is wired a certain way, and it won't just change for me. I don't even know what it will take for me to be cured from my sickness. Or maybe I do know what it would take, but I'm not willing to pay that price. What I think it may take is this. This blog. This honesty.

I saw a episode of House, a man was robo-tripping to dumb himself down since his own intelligence was making him miserable. I feel if I give this up, I'll be doing the same thing in a way. I also think that if I keep up this brutal honesty, I'll never adapt, never be normal.

What can happen in a mind is a motherfucker.

About You

Maybe we'll see
All of our dreams
or maybe we'll hear
All of our fears

It could be I'll run
Where maybe you'll walk
Or maybe you'll win
Where maybe I lost

But one thing I know
I can't do it alone
Can't live by myself
On this alien soil

So when we are far
Far, far away
I'll keep you close
On this telephone line

And know when you hurt
I hurt with you too
And know when I'm gone
I think about you

I think about you

I'm pretty stoked about this one! The lyrics and the music happened at the same time and I really like how it sounds. It may be a stretch for me vocally, but a little bit of rekeying should fix that. It's just a song for the fam and some good friends that I'm far away from right now.

Far Beyond

A little thunder in the evening
A little rain to wake you in the morning.
See a thing so simple, a thing so pure
And be happy darling

Fly beyond your toil my dear
Far beyond it all

A breath of cool air in the evening
To dry the sweat from you skin
All your work is done for the day
Be satisfied in what what is done

Fly beyond your toil my dear
Far beyond it all

Let's sit on the porch and keep the conversation slow
Have a glass for the day
Forget the rest, no worries, no fear
The evening rain is here

Fly beyond your toil my dear
Far beyond it all

This song was interesting for me to write, though the lyrics aren't the best I've done. First of all, much of my music is very soothing, while my lyrics tend to be pretty intense. I've found that the two are nearly impossible to mesh, so I can't make the music work. This song was a thought out attempt to get some words I could work with. It's not the greatest way to write and this will probably not even make the final cut to an EP (which I hope to produce sometime in the next 5 years or so), but I figure it's a worthwhile placeholder for some better lyrics.

This song was inspired by Ireland, my Bouzouki and "Little Laughter" by Acoustic Alchemy.

Someone Called it Relapse

I'm losing ground again
Falling by the wayside
Falling, stumbling, losing ground
Washing away like a worn down stone
Washing into the oblivion of the sea
See? Can you see me?
Losing ground
Giving blood
Falling away
Drifting away
Like the dust picked up from a barren plain
And carried far, far away
Carried till the end of time
Washed into the sea
Losing ground
Tripping, falling
Falling
Falling
Sliding
Losing ground
Giving up
Going back
Going home
To shelter
To safety
To misery

I found this one in my poetry folder and was a little surprised by it. My computer is telling me I wrote it on December 27, but I can't remember exactly why or what mood I was in (bad, I'm guessing). I really do like how this one flows and the point of it. It may be the basis for more work later.

Drunken Rant About Religion

So, I'll put the explanation on top for this one. I just found a backlog of stuff that I was too lazy to put on here when I wrote it, and some of it is good. The rest is at least somewhat significant; something that should be remembered. At least it should be remembered by me.

Being drunk is fun, I recommend it from time to time. Being drunk and pissed off is not so fun, but it does allow things to come out when you wouldn't be willing to say it otherwise. I'm not particularly proud of the following lines, but it did help me realize why I was so angry at religion, so here goes.

9:47
10:07
What's the fucking difference?
Why do I pretend I'm still my parents' son
or my sister's brother
Reeling in the dark with another beer
Another, another again

You fucking freak!
I'm me
Only me
decide if you like me
Yes. Lie to me you fucker!
A master of lies, religion
say anything that will make me walk in your ambush

I'm a fucking disaster walking and you know it
A motherfucker, but that's not the language you use
It's what I use
Forget what they say you are
Cause you may not like the answer if you look at yourself
You know that you say
So you forget the question
Forget the answer
Walk away, it's all good
Lies aren't too bad
Just a fucking blasphemy of your God-damn religion

Forget me, it's easier
Forget me for being me
For being different
You motherfucker
Why can't you fucking disown me so I can live free
Fuck you

In this drunken state, no one should listen to whaT I say
Except for those who want to hear, to listen to... to...
To understand, you fucker
Hahaha! Laugh at me for the balls that you don't have
Laugh cause you'd fucking never say any of these fucking words
You'd lie, at least I keep that fucking commandment, you fuck!

Lie again, lie again... you fuck
Wage a war
Spill my blood
Pour your gold
sell your morality
I'll drink to the morning just to piss you off
You fuck! You fuck!

I'm free till I die
Then I'm free when I die
Try to judge me
Try to contain me

Drunk
Fuck
Fuck
Not like you
Fuck you
Fuck me
Let's make another disaster for god to frown upon
And let me laugh while you pray, thinking you're redeemed

A Memory Forgotten

It's been a while since I did this. Half poetry, mostly not, lines, few rhymes; meaning.

I've seen beauty when I was 16
Turn to ugly when I'm 22
And dreams at 15 turn to demons at 19
So what is stable and what is not
Is it worth a try at a definition?
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and the beauty lasts a day
And the beholder lasts a lifetime

I can't even see an instant
Can't see the trees for the forest
Or a raindrop for the pouring, pouring rain
Time stretches on for years
In every direction but here
Right now is a void
Bordered by shining lights and barbed wire fences
Both places that aren't reality
I maintain the norm forever, the forever me
A solid ash, in a city of oaks
Trying to grow tall and feel the sunshine on my leaves

I grow silently and no one sees me
They think I'm the budding seed I was at 16
But I'm scarred and battered
I survived the storm when the oaks branches split above my humble stump
I didn't burn when the forest went up in flames
And I haven't been spared like you
So no, no, no you don't know me anymore
And you really don't want this close to you
Let me retreat before you think I could be the one
And let me speak a bit of wisdom before I go

A philosopher and a sage is all I am
Lonely from town to town
A traveling preacher with no flock to save
No money to make
There will be no pearls at my gate
But a piece of steel I forged
And my fence will stand when yours crashes to the ground

Reality, worth maintaining?
Well maybe, maybe not, but I choose to believe so
I build my gate from steel, but what does it defend me from?
What do your pearls give you?
Only the dead can answer that

A hell of a day
I'll walk into eternity and on to obscurity
When a stranger mumbles my name in a graveyard and walks on
It'll be unreadable eventually
And it's all gone again
A memory forgotten

I was listening to "The Truth" by Handsome Boy Modeling School when I wrote most of this. I also made an audio recording of it which I actually like, which is really strange. I usually hate to hear my own voice. I'm glad I've been getting back into the normal groove of semi-poetry and more straightforward talking. I've got more to say, and I'd really like to say it tonight, but I have to be up early, so I'll just be off to bed. Goodnight!