Brandon

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 21:54:55 GMT

I've been noticing subtle changes in myself lately, the kind of things that develop over time that surprise you when you realize them because if you had made a conscious decision to make them the way they ended up, you'd have been opposed to them. The biggest few things are that I've started studying a lot more consistently (as opposed to barely at all), more or less decided to quit watching tv, and quit drinking cokes.

The biggest two are really the last. Typically I would think someone who doesn't watch tv or drink cokes would be some weird home schooled type who had either a moral or health reason for it, but really it's come down to this:

I'm sick of television that appeal to the lowest common denominator of humanity. I'm tired of seeing shows about people who are famous because tv tells me they should be. I don't care about these people, from Kim Kardashian to John and Kate plus their 8 paychecks. I used to almost exclusively only watch the History and the Discovery channel, but even these have lost my interest. Even CNBC replays their documentaries - which are usually pretty good the first time, but they literally play the same show multiple times a week, for weeks on end.

I don't mind watching tv at all with other people, but in those situations it tends to be a conversational focus. That doesn't bother me at all - hockey especially. It's this mind numbing stuff that's getting to me. I refuse to feed it or watch any more stupid Burger King commercials and be a part of this.

I've decided to make it a point to replace the time I would have spent watching tv with reading. I enjoy it more anyway, and there's so many things I haven't read.

As for the cokes, as I drank them less, I found I wanted them less. I replaced it with fruit juices and teas and have felt healthier as a result. But I don't see myself putting whiskey in a apple juice any time soon. Apple cider on the other hand...

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 02:06:05 GMT

I always feel the need for my return to writing I need to produce something poignant, something structured and significant, as there aren't many writings on here anymore. It keeps me from writing - but not writing has led me to reading, and that's been good enough lately.

I've gotten passionately, though I wouldn't say deeply, involved in politics. People who get deeply involved argue on forums - I argue on facebook, and therefore don't use the higher, more in depth material or arguments as the majority of people I talk to are, for the most part like me, retarded because we're on facebook. With me, an explanation for anything I believe in goes back to a deep set of fundamental beliefs, and therefore explaining myself takes a long time, and despite the lack of easy explanation, it makes me feel more firm and rooted in my beliefs.

I spent a long time wanting to be rebellious, went through my communist phase - the Che phase - before I even took economics and knew what I was talking about. It was contrarian, or so I was told, and that was enough for me. I bought his book. I never read it. I wanted to be smart and I asked for Carl Sagan's Cosmos series for Christmas, and with it my dad included a Christian documentary that was basically a rebuttal to it. He didn't ever say anything more than that I should watch it. He just gave it to me. He never told me that Carl Sagan was a liberal pot smoking moron, he left me to find that out on my own. I didn't realize that for a long, long time, but it meant a lot to me when I did.

Now that I'm moving past the high school extremist phase of my life, I've moved into the college extremist phase of my life and at no better time than when our country is being raped by liberals. The problem is, you can't argue with liberals because they don't believe in anything at all, so you can't back them up against a wall to defend themselves. They just believe you should love everyone and not worry about what works or that liberalism leads to slavery because everyone becomes equal - in the worst way.

I do not believe that all men are created equal - obviously Einstein and the proverbial Forrest Gump are not equal - but they have equal rights. But what are these rights?

The standard moron can say "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" but not many can explain it.

Very simply put these can probably only be understood in light of what it looks like not to have them - to live in Iraq, Iran, North Korea, Venezuela, or any of these countries where people eke out an existence in oppression and most certainly don't have freedom or, as we would define it, happiness.

Gay marriage?
Not a right. Marriage is an legal institution accepted by a majority of society - as shown with gay marriage being voted down 31/31 times - and not a basic right.

Free healthcare?
No way. No one owes you that. Those who would not work to provide for themselves are owed nothing by those who do. The same people who say healthcare is unaffordable are the same people who, for the most part, are financially irresponsible.

It is financially irresponsible to waste money on things like cigarettes and alcohol before providing for your family. Sorry - those aren't a right either. It's also financially irresponsible to have more kids than you can afford - especially if they're with multiple (multiple, multiple) people. I am NOT a proponent of abortion - I'm a proponent of responsibility.

The minimum wage argument is ridiculous. No one who goes to work and works hard over a period of time will ever remain at minimum wage unless they essentially choose to do so. If you want to move up and make more money and provide more for your family, there are more than enough opportunities to better yourself - even with a simple library card. I've learned more from libraries than I ever will from college, and more knowledgeable employees are better employees.

I believe wholeheartedly in the free market. I believe that this socialism is an atrocity brought on because liberals have taught everyone that it's wrong to tell anyone no - gays, people on welfare, anyone. If you tell someone they don't deserve something you are a hateful, racist, intolerant, unintelligent bigot. IT'S NOT TRUE.

America has spent so long telling kids that they pass no matter what, that they get by for effort, that we've convinced ourselves slowly that everyone is equal. Not everyone is equal, everyone has equal opportunity to achieve greatness if they will work to achieve it. America doesn't achieve success. There are so many failed companies for every start up, but there are so many innovations that have come from people who found a better way to do something.

Liberal media has convinced almost everyone that anyone who succeeds in business, or receives a large paycheck got there by being a corrupt, backstabbing bastard. IT'S NOT TRUE. Companies don't want to hire unethical people - they're a HUGE legal liability in civil court. Those who do are few and far between.

As for executive compensation, people are guaranteed what they are guaranteed under contract law, period. If shareholders (the only people who have a say) are against that, they can group together to vote out those whom they desire to vote out. If they can't resolve it that way, they have every right to sell their stock and leave in protest.

As for the government firing executives, the government never had any right to get into private equities, but here we are - socialism!

In short, there is absolutely nothing wrong with telling someone no or that you disagree with them. This country was founded on saying NO. No, we won't be taxed without representation. No, we won't let you extort us financially. No, we don't like your way of doing things with us.

But now it's time to say NO, we don't want this liberal America. NO, we don't want your healthcare sham. NO, we don't want you in office and NO you won't be there next election. It's well time we grew some balls and started being politically incorrect and telling these people that we still stand for moral values and don't mind offending a small vocal minority that thinks they deserve everything they demand because NO THEY DON'T.

Tue, 09 Jun 2009 23:00:02 GMT

The Totally Offensive Completely Incorrect Simple Rundown of Politics

Democrats:
Variant 1: College Yuppie
Either a professor or a faux intellectual college student. Either a liberal hippie who loves everyone and has no concept of politics outside of being trendy or a professor who gets his paycheck from the government.

Variant 2: Welfare Check Recipient
Wears a huge shirt with Obama's face on it. Voted for Obama simply because he's black, but calls you a racist for not voting for him because he's black. Needs welfare check because they have 12 kids with 12 different dads and no job and refuses to quit breeding future Variant 2 Democrats.

Republicans:
Variant 1: Religious Conservatives
Your mother. Jerry Falwell. Typical rednecks.

Variant 2: Obnoxious white guy
Bill O'Reilly, Rush Limbaugh.

Variant 3: A white guy with a job.
No more needs to be said.

Green Party:
Weed smoking college students, or old white guys who don't realize they're old white guys. All Mac users.

Libertarians:
See Variant 2 of Republican, add gun right enthusiast.

Democrats will always vote Democratic to keep their check coming or to keep up the appearances of not being associated with those intolerant Christian types - you know, the "I'm so open minded and you aren't!" crowd.

Republicans are the people who pay the bills for Democrat Variant 2's children to go to a school where they shoot each other, eat free meals, and then turn into crack addicts and baby mamas and restart the cycle all the while complaining they never had a chance.

Got it? Good.

Thu, 04 Jun 2009 19:41:00 GMT

I don't know what part of "Don't fucking smoke weed in front of my brother" is so fucking hard to understand.

I quit the band permanently.

All I have left to pick up is one effects pedal.

I'm done with this shit.

Wed, 03 Jun 2009 09:17:14 GMT

Time for something other than political rantings for the 4 AM writing block.

Political rantings have become the never ending pointless battle that fill my gratuitous spare time. And then became an obsession, given the dire nature of things. There's so much I've wanted to write about here, so much to pour out, so many concerns, but the nature of public domain and such make it unwise to write about such things... Thus, like a normal person, I've resorted to gossip and conversation.

My private life is full of hurry up and wait. I'm very frustrated with work on that account. But that's partly the nature of the beast with the schedule I work. I could write volumes of things about work that don't need to be posted on the internet. (Disclaimer to the people paid to look for these things on the internet so they can fire people: I don't blame corporate. Corporate is wonderful. 5 gold stars.)

I'm tired of working with low lifes and drug addicts. I'm tired of being surrounded by drugs. I don't know if I've newly walked into it or was blissfully unaware before, but I indirectly come in contact with drugs or drug deals on a near daily basis now. I thought drug addicts were shady homeless people who slept in abandoned factories, not the majority of restaurant employees.

I'm hurrying up to finish my paperwork for college, but waiting on it to come, waiting to move, waiting to do this, and that, but hurrying to get it done. I'm restless.

I'm tired of having people pick fights with me at work. I'm tired of the same particular ones pretending we're ok and leaving each other alone and then turning on me and picking a fight as soon as they can. I'm tired of it being ok for them to curse me up and down and the second I say a word back they go tell the manager I started something - and the same backstabbing minimum wage employees who have nothing better to do than lie and take sides for drama's sake turning on me for no reason other than their own malicious entertainment. I keep reminding myself assault and battery can only take place in the confines of my mind. Postal employees would be put to shame.

It feels like there's no escape from this daily cycle of minimum wage labor, particularly with the economy being what it is. Or rather the government structure. The economy is just fine - the government interfering with the free market is the problem.

I don't want huge amounts of money. I want to work somewhere that knows what a drug test is. And can afford to test their employees without losing half their work force.

They teach you all this stuff in Christian school about worldviews and such. They teach you how to diagnose anything wrong with the world, why people are sinful, why they think like they do, all the -isms that define what they have.

Well, here's to nihilism.

They only taught you how to diagnose. They never knew the Doctor. You were only ever intended to judge. They never taught you how to talk to people. And they never spoke to your soul either. It was always about being perfect, having perfect theology, having perfect answers when you went up to someone's door to harass them with Evangelism Explosion so Jesus would love you more because you solicited someone and made them uncomfortable.

This was never about changing the world. The world will never change until Jesus comes back. I just want me to be changed.

Sat, 30 May 2009 09:12:30 GMT

I've been doing a lot of soul searching lately. Friends are coming and going - mostly going. I'm caught somewhere between the tedious slowness of every day repetition and the blinding blur of the last few years. My room is a wreck; underneath piles of clothes, and video game equipment lie piles of books... some read, most not, from various points of interest in my life.

From even the lowest points on the pile there's been an underlying political interest, which probably started with Che Guevara's Guerilla Warfare. But really it seems the most I collected books the fewer I read. At least I used to write. Now it feels like my soul is stuck in the everyday grind, unchallenged, atrophying underneath the faux intelligencia of liberal education.

There are no heroes anymore. There are no great thinkers. The liberals sought to destroy every heroic figure there was, from George Washington on down and elected in the hall where heroes should stand an unqualified black man anointed to save us all. Greatness is not something that belongs to our generation. We are victims of our own self indulgent suicide - whether you blame the blacks who voted for Obama to keep their welfare checks or the rich white corporate CEOs who would play up to anyone to get a bailout as long as they got a tax break. Divided we stand, while clutching for the most gold on a sinking ship.

I've grown extremely jaded and disillusioned - half of which can be blamed on what the liberal media want us to feel. The media wants you to feel beaten down; they want to create fear - all to push you towards their golden anointed one because only socialism and the government can save you.

But deeper than that this is a weariness of the soul, of fighting battles I shouldn't have to fight. And I can't even list a lot of those things here because of the people it would implicate - but this is my point exactly. It used to be the big evil things were so far away and removed, and now they're so close I'd have to call out my "friends."

Isolation seems the only "right" choice if one exists - and this is obviously impractical. The end result of all of this, of every temptation there is, is to leave you alone and miserable. And yet we run head long into the blades that separate us, even from our former selves.

I don't believe in hope all that much anymore. I believe in God. But not in a way that's going to leave me feeling warm and fuzzy. I believe that when this world goes to hell, as it soon will because our president wants it to so he can be elevated to even more of a living god when he claims to step in and fix it and the ignorant masses won't accept that he created it, only God can save me out of this. Being what I am, I would love to watch the world burn, even to go with it if the price of my anger is to be included, but it's obviously a dead end to feel that way. My anger holds nothing on the world. If I died, my anger dies with me and the world moves on towards hell.

Everything feels so empty and hollow in the shadow of the gloom that hangs over us. The world is changing.

Wed, 20 May 2009 09:35:03 GMT

I miss you guys.

Thanks for sticking around all of these years with our readings and skimmings and generally keeping up with each other. I've known most of you longer than I've known most of the people I know irl... and it's kind of sad in a way how we've bonded in that strange way that kind of disappears when you walk away from a computer, but at the same time not. Our virtual lives kind of exist here in a weird way that when looked back upon in past entries leaves behind a part of yourself where you go "wow, I was so young and stupid then..." but perpetually creates more of the same.

I never write anymore because my life feels like Groundhog's Day and I don't have any means of intellectual stimulation. Briarwood, on some instances, was at least good for that, even if it was the kind of stimulation that made you want to strangle a baby. Jeff State has been the death of me mentally. And I assume that's the way life is from here out - one big boring struggle against the corporate (now government) giant.

There are no philosophy classes or Bible classes to stimulate any part of me mentally or spiritually. The obvious answer to this, of course, is to go read a book, but the real stimulation of it all was the human interaction of the discussion. All you get in college is a bunch of liberal circle jerking each other about how smart they are for not believing in God. Never forget that public school college professors are government employees. Their paycheck comes from the taxpayer - hence the liberal thing. Bigger government = bigger paycheck.

There's not much change in the day to day as far as work goes. The restaurant industry has always and will always be the same week to week. I don't want to think that the world is like this from here out, that you do the same thing day to day despite what degrees and such you accumulate, but I think the mental deprivation of Jeff State and a mindless job have left me so jaded I wouldn't see hope if it hit me in the face.

Almost all of my friends have moved away, or for the most part gotten busy with their own lives. This seems to be the pattern of adulthood: friends devolving into coworkers. I'm not sure if the bond deepens with mutual interests between people in the later years of college or the beginning of a career that doesn't involve dirty dishes, but I assume it would. But that also leaves the door wide open for surface level conversations and relationships that end at 5 PM every day.

I wouldn't say I'm lonely. I have really good friends. We've just gotten extremely busy and don't see each other very often unless between the hours of 11 PM and 4 AM. Summer is a time to make more money at work, not a time to play anymore. I guess I'd best describe it as bored. I'm very, very bored. I read books on portfolio theory for fun, and it's not that that bores me at all. I've always been a nerd and always will be - it's that I don't have any friends mutually interested in the same nerdy things I am. That's really what gets to me I guess.

Wed, 20 May 2009 09:14:52 GMT

Remember when we all used LJ and had trouble keeping up with our friend updates? And then when everyone from high school discovered LJ and it was no longer a place for emo rantings and became a place for the mass postage of quizzes?

And then MySpace came along for those too stupid to write? And then facebook came along? Which was really cool until those damn high schoolers snuck in with the college email someone let them borrow? And then your mom got facebook? And then really old people started getting on facebook?

The internet has devolved from a place for porn to a place that was safe because your mother couldn't comprehend a computer to a place where your mother forwards you chain mail from a decade ago.

Thu, 30 Apr 2009 02:40:46 GMT

It was once said a black man wouldn't be President in America until pigs could fly.

100 days into the Obama administration:
Swine flu.

Fri, 24 Oct 2008 13:21:27 GMT

New Journal Rule:
Liberal idiots who can't support their arguments with anything more than an empty Obama-esque sob story (or irrelevant statistics) will be banned.

I enjoy intelligent conversation, and that's why I spend a lot of my day talking to myself.

Wed, 27 Aug 2008 21:25:03 GMT

I haven't really posted an entry or even started to write one or actively considered writing one in probably a record stretch. The last month or so has been about the most hectic stint of my life in recent memory: 2 motorcycle accidents, stitches in my face, getting fired over a bullshit situation, being forced to change my major, drop every class, and make an entirely new schedule so that I could graduate at the end of this year with my 2 year degree after 3 years of college, attempting to get a job and having to explain why I left my last job, stressing out and drinking my weight in vodka on an empty stomach and passing out in a restaurant at 11 AM... You name it, it's probably happened.

In short, this hasn't exactly been some shining month of greatness in my life that I'd particularly like to really remember.

I only really have one goal that's keeeping me moving: to get out of here. My motivation is Kerry, but my goal is to leave here and be done with this and start over somewhere new - somewhere more challenging.

I sat in my literature class today while the teacher went through rough drafts, tearing them apart with red ink and sending students to the computer lab to rewrite them. When he got to mine, he looked dead at me (I didn't even know he knew my name), and said, "Thanks for coming in today. You can go on home if you want." Everyone in that room turned and stared at me with looks that could kill... and I just smiled quietly, got my bag, and left.

I can't take much pride in this, but it's a start.

And that's what all this comes down to, really: a new start, a phoenix rising up from the ashes of a Triumph Thunderbird that hit the highway that should have killed me.

I still think a part of me died when I hit the road. Thus far I haven't liked what it left me with because I've been a stressed out mean little bastard since then; I won't even lie about that. I don't like myself that much lately, but I'm seeing what steps it'll take to change. When I get too depressed to leave the house, I set goals for myself for the day. It gives me something to live that day for, some sense of purpose, even if it's so simple as "Goal 1: Go to class. Goal 2: Finish homework." Setting these little goals and accomplishing them is helping me to keep moving and at least keep from shutting down, which seems to be the easy cop out given the way shit has fallen lately.

I applied for another waiting job. It's a beast I know and something I can fit into my weekends, despite the fact that it will leave me working or going to school 7 days a week - and that's ok with me, because at the end of this year I have a prize waiting on me: a degree and a ticket out of here... and most importantly a chance to be closer to the girl I love.

I've been listening to stuff off of Metallica's St Anger probably an unhealthy amount lately. I've only recently become interested in them, but that album seems to sum up how I've been feeling: a little angry, edgy, heavy, but stubborn with an unbeatable will to survive - "Shoot me again, I ain't dead yet!"

I'm not sure what I want to do longterm. I've been trying to come to peace with that a lot lately. I never liked the idea of being a suit, but it seems that's where I'm headed. And the more I think about it and put it on my terms, the more ok I'm becoming with it. For some reason "being good at allocating resources to build a bigger, better, more efficient monster" sounds a lot better than "corporate moneywhore."

The potential of it isn't as dead ended as it feels. I don't think anyone's job is really so simple as "go make money." I think I could maintain my interest in technology, etc, and even have it as an asset in my career. That allows me to keep on the edge, to keep bettering myself, and not just sit there and wait on interest to build and the corporate money machine to keep moving me and feeding me. Also, with a lot of the stuff I watched on Bill Nye's show last night, there's a lot of ways that I think proper management of business can make the world a better place - in green ways, but in more logical ways than what most people think of. I really liked what he had to say about that. He presented practical means to make the world better other than doing traditional social work. I really really like that idea.

I think the time has come for me to accept that fact that I've been above the curve without trying for years. I want to embrace my full potential, and right now that means blowing these Jeff State classes out of the water so I can take my next step into 4 year college and do the same there. I'm going to live up to what I was supposed to be one step at a time, one day at a time, and make something of myself. I don't even have to know where I'm going; I just want to go somewhere for a change and quit being a waste of life. I'm ready to own up to everything I should be and make a life for myself. I'm ready to be responsible.

And it goes without saying for anyone who's known me through any of this that all of this couldn't have happened without Kerry. And I don't want this to be embarrassing for her or sound so sappy that it just comes across as stupid, but the truth is she's been my sanity and my best friend and my support throughout all of this and never gave up on me even when I was difficult and hard to get along with. And I just wanted to publicly say thank you. And I love you.

That's really all I have to say for now. I just wanted to do a little update and whatnot to try to kickstart me writing again, but really I think I'm going to be too busy and too focused to do this as much as I have in the past. Maybe it'll make for higher quality stuff when I do have time to write. I don't really know.

Until then, over and out.
Crash

Sun, 27 Jul 2008 19:39:39 GMT

For those of you who don't know, I had a really bad motorcycle accident last night.

I was riding from Birmingham to Tuscaloosa to see Kerry. It was raining on and off, and at one point I pulled under an overpass to wait out the worst of it. Strangely enough, I ran into a guy I hadn't seen since high school who was tying a tarp over the things in the back of his truck.

When I was about a quarter mile from my exit, my bike started sounding strange - just like last time when I blew out my spark plug. I was irritated but figured I'd be fine because I had about two miles to go. I moved over into the lane to exit, and the bike started slowing down on its on so I knew something was funny. I let off the throttle to see if it would stop running funny if I let it idle for a second. When I rolled back on the fun began.

It all happened so fast... I'm about 99% sure the engine seized. And since it's a straightshift and I didn't have the clutch in, that totally locked up my back tire. I felt the back tire slide and thought I could roll it out. It fishtailed super hard twice and the third time it was just too hard to keep it up.

I still can't figure out if I spun around and was facing backwards. All I know is that I knew at that moment I was going to die. I saw the boom truck coming at me and just closed my eyes and in that tenth of a second made my peace with God. There's skid marks on the highway where he missed me. The next thing I know a voice in my head tells me to throw my arm up and start waving. Turns out the next guy said he didn't see anything but my hand and that's how he kept from hitting me.

Then I realized the bike was on top of me, and I started panicking trying to run off the highway. I freaked out so bad I pretty much tore my jeans off of me because the adrenaline was running so hard.

Then I noticed all the people running over to me. And then the cops came. And then I was like, "Shut up, Mr. State Trooper. I'm trying to get stuff taken care of," and totally blew off the state trooper while I called all the people I needed to call. And then I dealt with the police report and all of that.

Turns out about the second car behind me was the guy I knew from high school who saw the whole thing. I found out after the fact that I apparently hit so hard that they were afraid to run over to see if I was ok because they thought I was already dead.

My mom made me go to the hospital. I didn't want to go. I looked about a million times worse than I was. Other than the cut on my hand, you can barely tell there's anything wrong with me other than a small bruise on my leg.

My mom says my angels and whatnot were watching out for me. I just wanna know which one of them is such a bad mechanic and let this happen in the first place. As far as I know it was just a freak thing. I don't think the engine was running that hot. I had been riding pretty far pretty fast, but the engine never felt like it was straining. I'm hoping the insurance company doesn't total my bike. That's my biggest concern right now.

Thanks for all the concerned comments and calls and such. I missed about half of them because I was high off lortab last night. Much appreciated though.

Fri, 21 Dec 2007 08:22:33 GMT

My Magdalena, my Black Madonna...

Here I am, left by you, left low, wanting only the fix, not you. Craving like the addict I have become, not for you, not for the drug, not for the high, just for that tiny bit of normalcy where for one sweet moment I'm home. I don't believe in you, my goddess. Your needle stays deep within me, broken off from the last shot, and oh how I wish you'd have left when I sent you packing. But it takes forever to flush clean - and I should have known you'd end up craving me though I didn't crave you. You come back to me time and time again in so many different forms - I breathe you in, I bleed you out, I feel you pulsing within me... and yet you never really leave. You leave only enough to let me think I'm functioning without you - and maybe I am, but in the dark in the night, you own me.

To think I once convinced myself I loved you is to believe in an ideal I gave up on a long time ago. And yet I can't even sell myself completely in my selling out. You devil. You did this to me. You tore from me what hope I had of the other whose name you stole. Everything could have changed if it weren't for you - but you didn't steal my soul, you just continue to steal my time. Even with your claws deep within me, I enjoy the burn. I run, but you can't keep up with me. I let you stay. My real master speaks to me in a way you never can. Even as the sun rises, you speak and yet I never truly hear you, never truly feel your soul - because in the end, you never had one. You were a hollow pipe dream that was hardly a dream at all. It wasn't my dream, it was yours - yours to conquer me, to have me, and to hold me with your evil claws so deep within me, to have me for your own, to claim because I let you hold me like no one else would.

I was passive. And I let you run through my veins. I let you be my blood, my life - but you were only my addiction. You were the heroin that killed my nerves, that deadened my feelings - and the numbness outlived you. I killed you, you fucking whore. I cut you off like the leech you were. But you tore away a part of me with you. But it's not yours - and I'll take it back. May your God judge you and find you guilty for your sins. But you can't kill those who are already dead - or never existed. You have to have a soul to die. And even I couldn't breathe you into existence. You took so much from me, but you couldn't even steal the life from me enough to live yourself.

Every fix you gave me, every time you distracted me from the pain, you were only numbing my body - disconnecting my soul from my body - but my soul lives on without you. You whore. You could only steal my body.

You thought you owned me and yet the whole time I was using you. And I knew it, and because you had numbed me, you became your own destruction. One burst of my soul, my anger, my eagle, my fire, and you were burned away like naught. I own you. You are mine, and I give you away. You only owned me so long as I told you you could, but now it's time for you to pack your shit and leave.

Someday I will walk away and say, "You fucking disappoint me. Maybe you're better off this way."

And that's today. You were my black madonna, my evil master, but like the whore I am, I will move on to my next. But in my care I have neglected to do what you have done so well - to adapt, to whore yourself on your next victim. Because I'm not like you - and never was. My soul doesn't match up with your body. You better thank God for that body, whore - it's the best you've got or ever will have. And even that will turn to ashes - as dead as the soul you never had.

Go ahead and fake it. I know that you can hear this.
Why can't you turn and face me?

Why must you lie about me? Like my other whores, but you were the least of these. You were the least of these - and even unto the least of these, you were lucky to have had me waste my time on you. Because now I realize that I am your god. I am your master - but I hold you not. Leave and do your destruction. There are others for you to feed upon, others who deserve your punishment for accepting your offer as much as I myself deserved your destruction.

I knew better. And yet I silenced my voice of reason. I silenced the God who spoke to me - and I'm near dead now because of it.

I lost my self control
Beyond compelled to throw this dollar down

But the master who speaks to me now will never leave. Lots of things were futile then, but love and music could save us - though I have only music now. My love will find me later, and my Dani will follow. You were a cheap imitation of my music, and little more.

Finally I understand what I never could with the first. I must learn to hate you to let you go, to become indignant at your crimes, and to hate you and pretend this was all your fault, even while admitting I myself am guilty - and thus defeat my own argument. Christ! I bleed myself on you, and yet my blood isn't good enough to make you leave because it's stained with you. Why can't I get you off my hands, off my bed? Why can't I get you the fuck out of here?

And yet I'm the guilty one. I'm told I was sent here to destroy you, but I like to think I'm the best you'll ever have. And yeah, I am the cocky fucker who's afraid to admit my own power even to myself. But I can control so much, and you - you are nothing. I am the fire that drew you in, and its the tail end of that fire that burned you - like a moth to the flame - your beauty only came as I killed you because that was all you were good for - to burn.

Yet crushing you hardly fills my sadistic needs to destroy. Because I have become just like you. I have become you. You have made me like you - a leeching vampire. And now, to destroy is my only survival.

I was a healer once. My instincts still lean heavily in that direction in desperation - and if desperation is when our true self comes out - then I am still good. But in the meantime, in my bitterness, in my desperation to stay alive...

White as Dracula as I approach the bottom
Desperate and ravenous,
So weak and powerless over you

And yet my demons speak to me:
Can you imagine how good going through this will make you feel?
I promise, no one will ever know
There will be no chance of you getting caught
They never loved you anyway
So come on, be a man and do what you are compelled to do
Save me, God!

So who am I? A killer or a healer? A sinner or a saint? Or something in between?

Sat, 15 Sep 2007 22:27:31 GMT

I gutted my list. If you wanna be added back, comment telling me why I should.

If I like you or your reason, I'll let you back in.

If not, don't get your panties in a wad just 'cause I don't like you.

I took off everyone - no freebies, even if I love you.

The ground rule is this:
If you can't stomach what I write, don't read.

Wed, 15 Aug 2007 21:25:27 GMT

I've decided I hate people.

This journal is now friends only.

Wed, 15 Aug 2007 09:14:09 GMT

I've got this sinking feeling that the more reality sets in and my idealism and faith in people is crushed I'm going to not lose hope or faith, but instead the desire to find either.

I'm afraid I'm running out of time, and before long I'll be set in my ways somewhere between here and there, forgetting where I was headed anyway - you know, like the generations before me.

This is not my destiny, my fate, or any kind of final destination. I refuse to believe that, and I refuse to settle for this.

The passion within me, the one that's been labeled as my "being full of hate," is nothing more than the passion keeping me from settling for this bullshit and accepting it as just the way things have to be.

WE DON'T HAVE TO LIVE LIKE THIS.

But I feel like I'm screaming into a vacuum. I feel like there's no hope left, and sometimes I'm not even sure why I bother. Maybe we're all little animals in God's Skinner box. Or maybe one day I'll wake up and they'll tell me I made it out of the Matrix. God only knows.

If only we'd quit committing suicide long enough to realize we're killing ourselves...

We don't have to go to these churches. We don't have to do what's expected of us. We don't have to be anything. Remember when they used to tell you you could grow up to be anything you wanted to be? Is this what you wanted? And God knows I'm speaking entirely to myself... This is not what I wanted. This is me lashing out at everything they ever told me to believe in because I'm realizing that my entire world is filled with mostly shit that doesn't matter.

I'd tell you I don't care - but the fact that I'm even writing this is proof that I'm not entirely nihilistic.

I refuse to give up as easily as you did, and I refuse to believe that I've found all the answers when I'm obviously living in a miserable hole that I'm too stupid to realize I created for myself. And if it's hypocritical of me to say that, then I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't.

I think I've looked just about everywhere I can think of for something that matters - to Christianity, to music, to Eastern philosophy, to Western philosophy, to psychology, to theology, to practically any -ology you can think of, and yet I've found nothing that matters. The only thing I'm convinced of is that I'm looking for God, and something within me is like a rabid beast just chasing after God because I know without God I die. My soul knows that, and it knows I'm running out of time. I don't know why I feel that way, but I feel a sense of panic within me like I'm afraid I'm going to get old, bitter and jaded and turn into a Presbyterian.

Wed, 15 Aug 2007 07:24:02 GMT

The Short List of Things That Piss Me Off

1. Condescension
I'm very easy to get along with. I don't see the need to treat me as if I'm beneath you.

2. Disrespect
I give full respect where respect is due, and I expect minimal reciprocation.

3. Patronization
I'm sick of wannabe preachers and prophets adopting me as their pet project and trying to "fix" me. There have been a TON of you. I don't want or need your help. Go find some sheep, 'cause this jackass is perfectly happy being a donkey, not your sheep.

4. Abuse of Assumed Power
I'm tired of self-appointed mentors, counselors, and/or ordained ministers attempting to lord their presumed power over others. No piece of paper from any university or seminary or concentration camp can ever make you anything more than a man. Assuming you have the power of a god is Satanism. You know, Lucifer, who fell from Heaven for trying to be greater than God. That Satanism.

Just remember: no one will ever care about the power you're trying to exert over them until you respect them as more than your assumed minions.

5. Self-imposed Authority Figures
If I don't receive a paycheck from you, don't tell me what to do.

6. Anyone who has ever told me I'm demonically possessed or full of hate
The demons are a bad joke.
I'm not full of hate - I'm full of anger. There's a difference. Anger is a righteous indignation to set things right.

Anger is a gift
from "Freedom" / Rage Against the Machine

7. Anyone who talks too much and doesn't know how to listen
Nobody cares how much you know until they know how much you care.

Brevity is the soul of wit.

8. The existence of religious authority
I've learned more about God in a year and a half outside the church than 18 years in it.

Politics, money, lies and corruption belong in the government, not the house of God.

If I remember correctly, when Jesus saw this kind of bullshit, he started kicking ass and taking names inside the Temple.

You have corrupted a house of prayer into a den of thieves.

9. Militant Stupidity
If you claim to care about the souls of man, don't be so busy trying to destroy someone emotionally that you forget you're trying to save their soul. Cults hold power because they drain the will of their followers. How dare you attempt to beat someone down and claim you're doing them a favor! This kind of outright abuse of presumed authority is barbaric tyranny.

10. Christianity without any form of Christ
They say we preach best what we need to learn best. If you preach damnation, then even I fear for your soul.

Christ preached a love for all humanity, and yet no one seems to get that "all humanity" doesn't just mean "people like me."

I love you if you're gay, straight, white, black, red, green, blue, or even if you're a polka dotted lesbian transvestite prostitute. You know why? Because you're fucking human. And that's all you need to earn my respect.

*Bonus* People who claim they're being persecuted for God's sake

Jesus said "Blessed are you when you are persecuted because of me" not "Blessed are you when you're persecuted because your own ego has made a jackass out of you."

Wed, 15 Aug 2007 01:54:25 GMT

1. Acoustic or Electric?
Electric.

2. Martin or Taylor?
I've only played Taylor.

3. Gibson or Fender?
I <3 My Gibson Les Paul.

4. Ernie Ball or Elixir?
I've used both. But my Ernie Balls snapped after they'd been on for 2 hours.

5. Right or Left?
Left handed, play right.

6. Who is your Guitar Hero?
I don't have an idol.

7. Speaking of Guitar Hero: love it, or hate it?
It irritates me because it's absolutely nothing like playing real guitar.

8. When was the last time you changed your strings?
I put new ones on my Gibson a few months back during college.

9. How many guitars do you own?
3 electrics, 1 classical, and 5 basses that I know of... maybe more somewhere. Only 3 are really mine.

10. Do you give your guitars pet names?
I thought of one when I first got it, but I never used it.

11. Do you tune standard or a half step down?
Standard. My secondary is dropped D or half step... though I've gone to drop C before.

12. What's your favorite chord?
The power chord : )

13. How old were you when you started playing?
13-14ish.

14. What's the first song you learned to play?
Smells Like Teen Spirit

15. Do you prefer playing solo or in a band?
I'm not comfortable playing solo.

16. Name all the bands you've ever been in.
Various praise teams, a lot of bands that never formed (Flushed, Unscheduled, Snugglewhore, Scones and Bitches, etc.)

17. Describe your first guitar.
The love of my life: my Gibson Les Paul Special. Although technically I guess it was the acoustic I destroyed when I was 3.

18. Do you still have your first guitar?
Yes on the Gibson, no on the acoustic.

19. Do you play any other instruments?
Electric, bass, and that's about it.

20. If so, was the guitar your first instrument?
The first instrument I was trained on was piano. The second was trumpet. The first instrument I fell in love with was bass, and then electric came about 2 years later.

21. How much/often do you play?
Typically daily.

22. Marshall or Peavey?
I love my Peavey Black Widows.

23. Pick or finger pick?
Pick. I hold it wrong though.

24. Do you like 12 string guitars?
Never played one, my dad praises them a lot though.

25. What is the next instrument you plan to purchase?
Probably a 5-string bass.

26. Your dream guitar?
I own it. I don't like super expensive models. I'm too paranoid to rock out with them.

27. If they made a guitar after you, what would they call it?
George.

28. What inspired you to pick up a guitar?
A random impulse

29. 5th chords: useful or irritating?
I think a 5th is a power chord, but I'm not sure. I'm really very bad with technical names for chords. I can just hear things and match them.

30. Are you obsessive about your guitars?
I'm careful about who else is around them, but I'm not an asshole about it. People who are total pricks about "you messed up my settings!" seriously piss me off. That's why God invented presets.

31. Do you sometimes forget a guitar is an inanimate object?
Nah...

32. Be honest: are you in love with your guitar?
Yep.

33. Does it piss you off when someone starts touching your guitar without asking?
I typically get a little nervous before they've proved they know what they're doing, but I'm not a jerk about it.

34. What's the most recent cover you learned to play?
I'm not sure...

35. Can you play by ear?
A decent amount.

36. Are you a self taught musician?
Yes.

37. Do you consider yourself a music snob?
I see myself as fairly open minded musically.

38. Do pretentious music snobs make you crazy?
Oh very. Especially if they don't even play.

39. Kurt Cobain.... amazing or over rated?
Having been a HUGE Kurt Cobain fan myself, I feel safe in saying overrated as a musician, but well appreciated as a person.

40. Would you rather loose a finger or a foot?
Foot.

41. Can you sing/play at the same time?
No.

42. Do you get nervous playing in front of people?
I've developed a pretty decent comfort zone. The first few times I almost pissed myself. The stage is my second home.

43. Do you write songs?
I write random jams that never really get saved or memorized.

44. Have you ever been in a cover band?
Unscheduled was kind of headed that way.

45. Ever got so drunk you forgot the words to a song... that you wrote?
No.

46. Drunken guitar playing.... fatal or fantastic?
Never tried. I don't appreciate bands that get drunk and play terribly though - like Better Than Ezra.

47. Ever had a guitar related injury?
My finger tips turned black once from the blood that dried under them when I was first learning to play slap/pop bass.

Also...

I played in church the morning after that happened.

48. Describe all the stringed instruments currently in your possession.
1973 Fender Jazz bass - killer tone, very light, great to play with.

1977 Fender Jazz bass - same as above, slightly heavier.

Peavey T-40 - the bass I taught myself on. Heavy as anything, but one of my favorite basses ever, despite being virtually unknown.

MiM Fender Jazz Bass - we put Bartolini pickups in it - it sounds amazing.

Gibson Les Paul - my sweet lover. My favorite guitar.

BC Rich Warlock Bronze - It was like $150. I got it because I wanted a guitar that could handle dropped tunings. It's well worth the money, maybe better, but you can tell it was made in China. I had to send one back before I got one that worked.

Takamine classical - the bane of my guitar playing existence as well as the first thing I tried to teach myself on.

Gretsch Tennessee Rose - my dad's baby, and probably the most expensive guitar in the house.

49. When was the last time you played for an audience?
A couple weeks ago with Faith and Drew.

50. Finally..... Why are you filling out this dumb survey instead of playing your guitar????
Because my brother has school in the my playing hours are limited in this house to when everyone's awake.

Tue, 14 Aug 2007 08:56:08 GMT

I read through a section of my journal tonight from a few years ago tonight.

I was thinking about compiling a list of the best moments in my life just for kicks. The longer I contemplated this idea, I realized that there aren't really defining moments in my life that would make any sense to anyone else - or if they would, would be really difficult (or awkward...) to explain the significance of.

Also, a large number of the events involved include illegal activities.

However, there are a lot of things that have influenced my life, and I think a brief recognition of those things is in order.

In 5th grade, I met my best friend in the world, gothiqroze.
I remember us getting in trouble with Mrs Griffin for talking through class when our desks got moved near each other lol. Those days are some of my best memories... In some ways we were so young and innocent, and in others we were way older than we could have imagined I'm sure. It's amazing to think I've known you for as long as I have. It feels like a lifetime. Thanks for all the times you put up with me being incredibly stupid, and helped me through stuff, and were there for me. You mean the world to me. I love you.

In 6th grade, I met my male counterpart in crime, Matt.
If I were just to list out our inside jokes, it could fill an entire entry.

So how many women were there?
6 years later, I'm still not sure...

You'll always be Mofo Matt. Thanks for all the laughs lol. I know I can count on you always.

Somewhere around 7th grade, I bought Smash Mouth's Astrolounge from a guy named Daniel.
I remember that era as my breaking out from the oldies and Radio Disney stage of my life and my first real introduction into what would become the love and passion of my life - music. I remember not liking that album at first, but it really grew on me, and now it's one of my fondest memories musically.

In 8th grade, we went on this handbell choir trip to Gatlinburg.
It was one of the first times I really felt like I was a part of a group or involved or anything. I really started to grow socially on that trip. I roomed with John David and Grey... and we stayed up pretty much all night watching MTV and listening to Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill. This trip was pretty close on the timeline to meeting Brittany who would be my first "real" girlfriend I guess. And my first experience with the melodrama of an adolescent breakup.

When DJ died during my senior year, I remember walking out of art and into the little bathroom next door and crying. He was the only teacher I can remember from that year who really genuinely liked me - maybe even one of the few throughout highschool. That man loved all of us, and he was definitely something special.

My Chuck Taylors
To be honest, they were originally purchased at the suggestion of a guy who was training me at the time (friend of the family kind of thing) as good weightlifting shoes. I had no idea that they had any kind of social stigma attached to them, but when I found out the general idea back then that they had something to do with music (as was my understanding at the time) I fully embraced the idea.

This also led to meeting Jessica, who referred to me at the time as "Hey Converse Kid!" Meeting Jessica led to one of the first times I really got out and went to any kind of party of sorts. It was a New Years Party where we (the people there... I only knew Jessica) ate pizza and watched Mr Deeds... and then ... well, celebrated the new year. It was significant to me though because it was the first time I can remember really getting out and going somewhere with a group of people I didn't really know and partying, which was a big deal for me at the time. I think I was 14 because I remember not being able to drive myself.

5 years of football
Not because they were significant to me in and of themselves - because the people I met during that time period were.

Also, these 5 years led to my absolutely disgust with college football which I never liked anyway. It also led to my only tolerance of watching football on television being when my dad watches.

Oh yeah, and we won state. I found my ring in the basement while I was looking for a book the other day...

Going to NYLF - Tech in San Jose
It was the first time I'd been out all by my lonesome. Or flown by myself, or even flown at all. It was a great trip. I got my first kiss out there too.

Stealing my dad's basses
I was about 14. I found internet tabs and taught myself over the last 5 or so years.

My first guitar
Christmas of 03. I've been playing for 3.5 years.

My first speeding ticket
I was shaking so badly the cop asked me if I had ever been pulled over before. I was so nervous I couldn't find the registration or insurance card, and he could tell I was that nervous so he let me go after explaining where to show up for court and telling me to ask for driving school.

My second speeding ticket
"I'm going to let you off without reckless driving because you weren't a jerk like the last guy."

Judge: "Son, they tell me you want to go to driving school again. Did you not learn anything the first time?"
Me: "Apparently not, sir."
Judge: "Do you have a job?"
Me: "Yeah, I work right across the street actually..."

I ended up paying $256 to take the Level II Repeat Offender / DUI class.

The time I was going just shy of 140 and the cop pulled up behind me
He flashed his lights once and took off. By this time, I was driving 60 in the slow lane wondering how I didn't see him when I must have passed him.

Getting to see Live in concert
It was the first time I had really seen a band that I was obsessed with at the time, and arguably the only time. We worked our way up to the front, which was really cool as well.

My first time up on stage with a guitar
I was so nervous I could have pissed myself. Thankfully those days are gone.

That time we played at Oak Mountain
I was informed that I "didn't know how to play rock" by a youth pastor I had a beef with which led to our version of "Smells Like Amazing Grace" being particularly satisfying, even if it wasn't the best thing we've ever played.

Covering Cake's "I Will Survive" was fun too. As well as "Bob Villa" because "You can't say 'Tequila' in a church!"

The first time I got really drunk
There's nothing like waking up outside a bathroom in the wrong dorm. Or being too drunk to get a bottle to your mouth.

Anything else I've thought of in the middle of writing this that incrimates too many people for me to be able to list it

Honorable Mention:
Racing Stripes - Nothing more needs to be said for the people who know what's involved.

Pointing out that Jesus was Jewish

My first cigar - also my last cheap Mexican cigar.

Any meaningful conversation I've ever had with anyone

Every girl that's meant anything to me along the way

Mon, 13 Aug 2007 20:59:03 GMT

Sometimes, I don't think the reality of anything matters at all with the religious.

For those of you who read the conversation between that jackass and myself, could you kindly explain to me how he got the following out of that?:

"You choose to want to follow your homosexual friend who prompted my calling him a faggot by claiming,he judges men by the size of there private parts.You willingly set the both of us up as well as your mother ,you have a regular round robin of deception and provoking of arguments about God ,the true and living ,Holy God my Father,"

From: Anthony
To: My friend
(Emphasis added to stupid parts...)

We are to judge even the smallest things,You were conceived in sex sin,according to you and confirmed
by your mother.You asked me questions ,I answered.If you can read, Try 1st Corinthians Chapter 5.If you are not born again you are not a child of God.You can't say you believe in Jesus Christ and not obey His Word.The iniquities of your parents will be visited on you and forward 3 to 4 generations.You have a long and rocky road ahead of you ,Do you know that your mother married a man who was never married and contaminated him sexually ,the same way she contaminated your natural father.She was married ,and
divorced ,and knowingly played the harlot.She married in adultery and demeaned this man of God by reducing him to nothing in neither her own or your eyes.How dare you condemn and destroy one of God's
men.Your mother is/was a harlot and married this man for convenience and to get you a father.You choose to want to follow your homosexual friend who prompted my calling him a faggot by claiming,he judges men by the size of there private parts.You willingly set the both of us up as well as your mother ,you have a regular round robin of deception and provoking of arguments about God ,the true and living ,Holy God my Father,
Your god is not mine or you mothers sex sin partner's.You young lady are sick,if you don't repent of your un godly behavior you will end up in worse shape than your mother ,who is a terrible example.The true God is All powerful,all knowing,and everywhere ,He is Holy and hates sin,He cannot and will not bless sin ,
and you will have to pay for every word and act that you perform. There is terrible consequences for sex sin ,
and you defile your body,soul and emotions and form an un godly marriage with the demonic spirit realm.
You and the faggot ,piece of s__t share a demonic spirit that is called the familiar spirit ,you and your mother also have the spirit of Jezebel mentioned in detail in Revelation 2:18 her /your job, your mothers job is to destroy the prophets,which you are doing .I will say one last thing to you I sent a lot of scripture in context,and the prayer to you and your mother ,I'm sorry that I can't contact the poor abusive fool that is putting a roof over your head,and trying to teach you Godly ways. Rebellion is as the act of witch craft.
I told this to my own daughter,Get saved or get lost,and I advised her to keep her destructive ,mouth and her destructive legs closed. I really hate to see you on a mission to destroy every male,and minister,and positive relationship. Although your mother's marriage is adultery ,you still contributed to the demise of this "Man of God" The boards of greedy sheep throw ministers out all the time for money and property gain/You are the type of person that I would throw a bible at. Please do not waste any more of my time.You aren't qualified to clean the toilet of a church no matter how deceived they are you are much worse.you hate men. Unless they are effeminate like brandy .
Don't go away angry just go away.

I've never seen such blatant disregard for reality in exchange for outright cruelty - worse, supported by misquoted Scripture. But what do I know? I'm an effeminate brandy drinking piece of shit who judges men by the size of their genitals.

I absolutely cannot believe that people who behave in any kind of manner resembling this really sincerely believe they are working for God. The saddest part is, I'd bet you almost anything this man believes he is serving God.

Lest we forget...

Sun, 12 Aug 2007 22:12:29 GMT

I have all these random lyrics run through my head or jump at me throughout the day. I've been tempted to post them as one-liners and see if anyone could figure out where they came from (without using Google) ... here goes the first of probly many... or I might just start tagging them on the end of entries...

Name the band / song:

I'm not gonna lie. I'll not be a gentleman behind the boathouse.

And just for kicks because no one will know this one:
I'm not dead and I'm not for sale
"Trippin' On A Hole In A Paper Heart" / Stone Temple Pilots

Grunge ain't dead, baby. It's just really sick. I'm gonna bring it back.

Sun, 12 Aug 2007 09:11:56 GMT

A Promise to Claim:

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.

The Most Personally Challenging Passages I Can Think Of:

If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

Make a tree good and its fruit will be good, or make a tree bad and its fruit will be bad, for a tree is recognized by its fruit. You brood of vipers, how can you who are evil say anything good? For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in him, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in him.

When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal. Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. Likewise the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.

All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and creatures of the sea are being tamed and have been tamed by man, but no man can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.

With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God's likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brothers, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.

If you poke me, not so far down, I'm a seething, angry, bitter hypocrite.

I disgust myself.

BBierley88: sometimes I feel like that's as much my own ego as God.
BBierley88: call it a personal vendetta against everything I was raised in combined with a burning within me that sees the pain in people and doesn't know how else to help

Sun, 12 Aug 2007 04:02:28 GMT

Who wants the last of my cigarettes?

It doesn't take a genius to tell me I need to quit when I go from "I'd really like one" bugging me for 2 days to instantly going away when I take that first drag and feel a thousand times better.

Time to quit, my friends.

Fri, 10 Aug 2007 08:33:09 GMT

Does anyone remember the Meat Puppets? Or the Screaming Trees?

Well, I guess everyone knows "Backwater" by the Meat Puppets - it's just no one realizes it's "oh, that song!"

(I just did some reading - the Meat Puppets just put out their first album in 7 years about a month ago... I had no idea, but then again, I guess no one else did either...)

I should have been born a few years earlier where I could have enjoyed the 90's a little more. I remember hearing about Kurt Cobain dying when I was almost 6 listening to a radio station that no longer exists - or rather, has changed management about 3 times until I gave up on it. (105 something.. the Bear back then.) I didn't realize the full significance of it, I just knew I loved "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and it was such a sad thing that that really cool man had died. It was unthinkable. It still is.

I also remember a journal entry I wrote in 2nd grade about playing Mario and listening to that radio station. My teacher's question at the end of it was whether or not I had a favorite song. I wrote that I didn't know the name, but it was something about "take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty." I've still got it somewhere. I guess not much has changed in 12 years except that I know the name of the song.

I wish I had the artistic freedom now that I had as a 6 year old. This one day we were painting in Mrs Sheppard's class and I just remember this wave of artistic creativity coming over me when I couldn't think of anything to paint. I painted this toucan that was inspired by this stuffed animal that I'm sure is still in the basement somewhere. To this day, that's one of the best pieces of art I ever made. And I was 6. I just let loose and let it fly. I miss that. Over a decade later, a psychologist would ask me to close my eyes and draw how I felt. I looked at him like he was insane, and he told me he expected about as much from me. He then told me I couldn't let go and was too in control to tap into that part of my mind because drawing a square and a few circles didn't describe how I felt. I guess a lot can change.

I really miss those early high school days where all it took to make me happy was a good chunk of music to vibe out to. I really miss that. I miss being as naive as I was then - as if I know everything now. If ignorance is bliss, it's lost on me.

I feel as if a beautiful thing is being lost: the music hasn't changed, but the way I listen to it has. It just doesn't affect me the way it once did. I'm older and more bitter and jaded. But I think that's due to a total disgust with the music that's been produced in the last 5 or so years. I remember thinking back in around '02 that music was hitting a slump in the summer and thinking it'd kick out when the fall releases came. It never happened. Emo set in. Screamo set in. And now I feel like one of two things: either I'm too old too appreciate this new stuff and I'm just getting nostalgic for "back in the day when music was good" - or more likely, this stuff just sucks and we're watching music die.

And if I'm watching music die, I might as well go with it.

Thu, 09 Aug 2007 23:21:22 GMT

"You're starting to scare me. Your diet tips are smoking and drinking. You said it's weird for you to be at home and wearing clothes... And you're hanging out with people I don't know anything about..."

If my mom only knew the half of it lol. She makes me laugh sometimes.