As the title would imply, I am back. I was feeling crappy so I guessed my old password correctly and got on here, mostly just to read old posts, and it comforted me. My poetry and thoughts are profound, at least they are profound to me and they help me when it's too much to take.
I don't have a whole lot to say, haven't for the past year it seems with the rather poor showing for 2012. This isn't the first time I've had a break from blogging, it may not be the last and maybe I'm outgrowing this way of expressing myself, maybe I don't need it anymore. I've grown unnaturally adept at explaining my fears, doubt, depression and misery to almost everyone I meet. The openness is disarming. No one can really say they don't relate with me to some extent and no matter how lousy you're feeling, it's comforting that someone else is feeling, or has felt, as shitty as you. Humans are social creatures and we must express ourselves; it's hardwired into who we are.
That being said, it's really nice to have a written log of my thoughts. I can go back to various points in my life for the past few years and remember them in detail. I don't remember "that trip" or "the time when we (fill in the blank)". As selfishly as it sounds, I remember me, how I was feeling or what deep thoughts I was thinking, not the little details of existance. Other than =^..^= (thanks so much! You make me feel special), and myself, no one really reads these thoughts but that's ok. It was a way to let myself out of the self-imposed cage I had built around my thoughts, mostly the cage was built to keep my thoughts away from my parents, who may have understood them better than I could have believed at the time.
Anyway, now that I'm done memorializing this blog (I have my fears that I may very well never bother to post again), let's get on with it, the very reason this thing exists, from day one, because I am still Honestly Alive. In long term thinking, I've watched my own thoughts change and watched myself grow older, and maybe tougher over the years.
From 17-21, I was massively confused. Christianity didn't make sense so I rejected it, and I had to come to my own conclusions about things, things I should have worked out when I was a kid but didn't because religion provided the answers and I was not encouraged to question things. With no real limits, I looked as far as I could see and reasoned it all out to the best of my ability. I determined that there is likely not a god, or any ultimate meaning or right or wrong for that matter, but for reasons I couldn't explain, I still did everything I could to be a decent person by American standards.
From 21-23, I tried to comprehend the implications of my belief. I explored what that meant: What I could do, what I would not do and why given I had no cosmic god-rudder directing my path. I mostly figured that morals and standards for society exist because they have to; they make us live with each other in healthy ways that keep us all going. Anyway, I tried very hard to stay positive during this time because it was useful. It wasn't that I actually believed everything was positive, even for a minute, it's just that it served no purpose to dwell on miserable things, so I avoided it. In many ways, I became the very thing I had hated before (I made a reference to Tulip Mania way back in the day to describe it).
And here I am, 24. I feel a new chapter is opening in my life, or maybe I'm just reverting. The whole everything-is-super-happy-and-fun culture is grating at me again. I'm in love with a girl who's losing her mom to cancer, and it's decidedly NOT super-happy-and-fun. The Buddists have convinced themselves that death is a cause for celebration, but it's in the mind only, and only with intense training. They are right to say not to fear death, and that it's just a part of life, but it is not happy, nor should it be treated as such in my opinion. A 21 year old girl should not have to bury her mother. It's crushing to see her convince herself that the next treatment or surgury will solve anything, but it gives her some respite, so I let her be. Some things in the world really suck. While I don't think we should dwell on those things so much that they hinder our ability to live, at least not for long, we shouldn't lie to ourselves and say everything is fine either.
All these thoughts have gotten me closer so something... I don't know, being old maybe? But they also seem to sap the color out of life. There were the hot reds and brght whites, deep blues and void blacks, but it all seems to fade now to a more steady shade of grey (I think I'm quoting myself there, I'm so vain, I probably think this song is about me...). Maybe I'm finally ready to feel the warm glow of love to bring me back to life, but I've been warned that even that is fleeting.
So here I am, not excited, depressed, angry or confused. Ready to see what comes next, but not particularly interested in it either. What will the next car be that drives down this road? Will it be a BMW or a Honda? I really don't care. It will pass, maybe I'll wave, and that will be all.
That's all I have for now, goodnight!
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Friday, June 1, 2012
Rant for Sunday
I give pretty good advice consistently
I drink too much
And I talk too much
I don't listen well
My opinions are way too strong
My life is too fucking short
And I'm too old for my years
I'm too old to pretend I can still keep making these mistakes
Quit smoking and won't start again
At some point convinced I wouldn't commit suicide before lung cancer would matter
Now I've got a permanent cough
Maybe it's too late
Maybe that doesn't matter, maybe
It's nothing new
The only thing I know for sure
It's all been done before
Spokes go around on the wheel
In some other time, some other age, some other year
In some other dimension
Am I thinking about this me?
Am I giving up there, am I persisting here?
Am I a fucking millionaire somewhere else 7 dimensions off?
In a different time, in a place far away from here
But forget it, it never fucking mattered
I'm still sitting on my living room floor shirtless with an empty beer
More old, dug up, down to earth stuff
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Utopia in my Mind
What would be the absolutely best way to enjoy music?
What would that look like?
What would it sound like?
How would we feel?
Well I think it depends on the music, but since I'm listening to Ben Howard, I'll focus on music that calms
It would be dark, but not black
Dim lights that let us see, and move, and not be afraid, but that doesn't distract, or make us look away from any part of our environment
We wouldn't be alone, because alone is the end of all things good
No, we'd be close, snuggling and sipping a glass of wine after a good meal and a day of hard work
Just a touch on her bare back and a her hand on my arm would tell our love and we'd be so content
The music would play, first roaring so we could hear every sound, then fading so, so slowly, that only when we woke in the morning would we realize the music was fading
We'd turn it on again and eat breakfast in the peaceful still of sound then let the genre change to something lively to welcome the day and things we have to do.
Ahh! Yes! It's utopia in my mind!
I like music, I know everyone says that, but I REALLY like music, in a REALLY big way. Thoughts like this are good and make me content.
What would that look like?
What would it sound like?
How would we feel?
Well I think it depends on the music, but since I'm listening to Ben Howard, I'll focus on music that calms
It would be dark, but not black
Dim lights that let us see, and move, and not be afraid, but that doesn't distract, or make us look away from any part of our environment
We wouldn't be alone, because alone is the end of all things good
No, we'd be close, snuggling and sipping a glass of wine after a good meal and a day of hard work
Just a touch on her bare back and a her hand on my arm would tell our love and we'd be so content
The music would play, first roaring so we could hear every sound, then fading so, so slowly, that only when we woke in the morning would we realize the music was fading
We'd turn it on again and eat breakfast in the peaceful still of sound then let the genre change to something lively to welcome the day and things we have to do.
Ahh! Yes! It's utopia in my mind!
I like music, I know everyone says that, but I REALLY like music, in a REALLY big way. Thoughts like this are good and make me content.
Cookie Cutter
Cookie-cutter music in a cookie-cutter world
Where I should raise a family with a cookie-cutter girl
And we should have a big TV and some cookie-cutter kids
Who should grow up and play soccer (or something safe) with their cookie-cutter friends
And everyone will say to me “Man, you've got the life”
With my cookie-cutter SUV and my cookie-cutter wife
Then maybe we'll get angry and get a cookie-cutter divorce
For as often as this mold is cast it never, ever works
But I'll be okay I'll go to the bar with the cookie-cutter guys
And we'll drink beer and talk about the game everything will be alright
It's a fucking shame we live this way in our cookie-cutter sphere
In a cookie-cutter decade, in a cookie-cutter year
Minutes after I finished "Grey Shaded Eyes", I started writing this song to describe how terribly generic the music was, and how much it really isn't what I want my music (or life) to be. I held on to it for a while, with some delusion that I would add more later, but that's it. Three verses and I'm out!
Inspired by my own bad, generic writing, Odd Soul by Mute Math, Earthsuit, the music video for Cameras by Matt and Kim (you don't understand it until you SEE the music video) and The Bare Naked Ladies.
Where I should raise a family with a cookie-cutter girl
And we should have a big TV and some cookie-cutter kids
Who should grow up and play soccer (or something safe) with their cookie-cutter friends
And everyone will say to me “Man, you've got the life”
With my cookie-cutter SUV and my cookie-cutter wife
Then maybe we'll get angry and get a cookie-cutter divorce
For as often as this mold is cast it never, ever works
But I'll be okay I'll go to the bar with the cookie-cutter guys
And we'll drink beer and talk about the game everything will be alright
It's a fucking shame we live this way in our cookie-cutter sphere
In a cookie-cutter decade, in a cookie-cutter year
Minutes after I finished "Grey Shaded Eyes", I started writing this song to describe how terribly generic the music was, and how much it really isn't what I want my music (or life) to be. I held on to it for a while, with some delusion that I would add more later, but that's it. Three verses and I'm out!
Inspired by my own bad, generic writing, Odd Soul by Mute Math, Earthsuit, the music video for Cameras by Matt and Kim (you don't understand it until you SEE the music video) and The Bare Naked Ladies.
Your Grey Shaded Eyes
My dear
With your gray-shaded eyes
You hear
But you don't compromise
I know, what you know
And it's not right
You grew
In a whirlwind of change
And you dreamed
Somethings would stay
But the world, never was
That way
When everything
Seems to be
Too much to bear
I will try
Yes, I will try
To be there
My dear
With your gray-shaded eyes
Don't fear
Take off your disguise
Cause we all, break
Sometimes
When everything
Seems to be
Too much to bear
I will try
Yes, I will try
To be there
I will try
Yes, I will try
To be there
I've wanted to use "Grey shaded eyes" or something like that in a song for a while. This is what happened. It's... generic, but I guess it works well enough. Influences include: Audio Adrenaline, Mute Math, Augustana and Bright Eyes
With your gray-shaded eyes
You hear
But you don't compromise
I know, what you know
And it's not right
You grew
In a whirlwind of change
And you dreamed
Somethings would stay
But the world, never was
That way
When everything
Seems to be
Too much to bear
I will try
Yes, I will try
To be there
My dear
With your gray-shaded eyes
Don't fear
Take off your disguise
Cause we all, break
Sometimes
When everything
Seems to be
Too much to bear
I will try
Yes, I will try
To be there
I will try
Yes, I will try
To be there
I've wanted to use "Grey shaded eyes" or something like that in a song for a while. This is what happened. It's... generic, but I guess it works well enough. Influences include: Audio Adrenaline, Mute Math, Augustana and Bright Eyes
Friday, December 30, 2011
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
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
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
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
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
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