Garth had it right.

I'm much to young to feel this damn old.

It's all because of the craziness.

Attractive, single women worth pursuing are about as common as job openings right now.

Also, I've come to the conclusion that the more attractive a woman is, she's far more likely to be batshit crazy. This is not necessarily a bad thing; there is a wide variety of craziness, and some of them are a lot of fun. But it's usually a bad thing.

Hotness = Craziness. Also, hotness = big doofy loser boyfriend. Why is this? Because of the craziness.

Moderation is Key

I ate far too much sushi last night. Coupled with the usual too much whiskey scenario, my intestines are not in a good place right now.

Grim Determination

I can feel my idiot resolve building.

I know what is, and I know what is not. And I know what I want. I do not know what I'll have to do to get it, but I finally have an inkling. Inklings are good.

It's nice to get over yourself, you know? Getting in your own way kind of blows, but that's usually the only thing keeping you from what you want.

So... get over yourself. All of you. NOW. I highly recommend it.

Answering the Call

I've been thinking about this blog lately, reflecting back on the things that I've written about- in particular my own musical endeavors. I've talked about several projects that I've worked on over the last two years, none of which came to fruition, for a variety of reasons. There's the money thing, the "other musicians" thing, the time thing, and hell, sometimes you just get bored, you know?

So I was thinking about this the other day as I was wandering around downtown Long Beach, and about how, as an artist, you have to learn how to fail. The meaning of following the dream isn't in the successes, it's in the failures. It's about trying new things, finding your voice, and falling on your ass. Then GETTING OVER IT.

You have to learn to go with your gut, and to take everything you hear with a grain of salt. People will criticize, but you can't let it get to you. Take what you can from it, but don't take it as the gospel truth. In the end, everyone has an opinion... and it's probably different from yours. Hell, even the people that LIKE what you do could very well like it for totally different reasons than you do. Which is what makes art great- everybody can get something different out of it.

One lesson I learned a few years ago is that you can't get in over your head til you understand the water. Or... some more poetic version of that. This was when I was very early in my understanding of digital recording. I'd recorded some very rough versions of some songs that i'd had at the time, and immediately created a myspace page to promote my project. I had a name, and an idea, and all of that, but there was one crucial element that I did not have- a BAND. This was my first foray into the whole one-man-band thing, and I overlooked something crucial. If I promote this music, people are going to want me to do something with it (gig). Which is exactly what happened. Somehow, though the recordings were rough and there were no vocals, the little bit of promo I was doing got me attention from booking agents. I wound up having to turn down all of these really great offers to play in various venues all over the LA area. As you can imagine, this was very disappointing. The BIG one though... I was contacted by a guy booking a Godhead show at the Whiskey. This was one of those "buy x number of tickets per slot in the evening" type things. Basically, if I bought (for the purpose of selling) x number of tickets, I could open, y number to be second, etc etc all the way up to pre-Godhead. I was FREAKED. One, I love Godhead, and would love to play with them. Two, the Whiskey. Three, I had no money to buy any tickets. And four, even if I'd had the money, I couldn't play anyway because just I'm one guy writing music for a full band. So I called a friend who used to play drums in one of my high school bands, and we spent a while trying to figure out how to pull this off, because it was a golden opportunity. Alas, nothing could be done, and I had to call the guy back and say sorry, can't do it, no band, not enough time, etc.

Since then I've avoided doing this. I'll keep the music I'm working on up on a myspace, but only as a reference for other people. You can't pretend to be something you're not (like, a working band when you're just one 18 year old kid with a guitar and a computer), and you can't rush things. Patience, and resilience, are key. Know you're limits, and establish your priorities and means well before you try to make something happen.

At this point I do have a project, that I absolutely love and am totally stoked about. It's already taken some hits though, most notably from the money thing and the "other musicians" thing (the addition and then subtraction of a vocalist/writing partner). But I adapted my priorities. I know what it's going to take to even begin to make it work, and a couple of pieces are beginning to fall into place. But it's going to take a long time. I realized that with this kind of thing, you can't have a one year plan or even a two year plan. You've got to have a ten year plan. If you want to make it, you've got to be willing to devote a fat freakin' chunk of your life to it. Because, if you're like me, THIS is what you're here for. Art is what gives your life meaning. In turn, you have to give Art your life. That's the nature of the beast.


I thought this would be a lot more profound, but apparently my profundity is sorely lacking at present.

Oh well.

Clearly I Have Issues

I had a dream last night that disturbed me just a little bit. It was one of those dreams (like pretty much all of mine) that is SO vivid, with color, sounds, smells, tastes, touch, everything, and so realistic (up until it became a Marvel/DC crossover somehow) that when I woke up I had no idea where I was or what was going on.

This dream started out with me in my current situation, Guy On The Couch. Somehow, I don't recall exactly, I met this girl. We went back to her place, hooked up, and I spent the night. During the course of that night, and the following day, we made this awesome connection, having great conversations, and just really understanding each other. She then suggested that since this was the case, why don't I stay with her instead of my friends while I'm saving up for a new place? I happily agreed.

However, this only lasted about a week and a half. She broke it off, then I was out on my ass with my few belongings (in this dream all of my possessions fit into a single duffle bag). I then proceeded back to my friends' apartment where I had been staying previously.

After I believe only a few days, I was contacted by, and then hooked up with a real-life female friend of mine whom I haven't seen since high school. She proposed the same scenario as the first girl, which I agreed to.

This one lasted for an even shorter period, after which I wandered around downtown Long Beach, just me and my duffle bag, staring at all the apartment buildings. I also went back to my old building, where I lived for about a year and a half, and spoke with the manager after exploring an apartment with a particularly quirky layout, which I positively loved. She informed me that rent in the building had gone up several thousand dollars.

Somehow after this I started dating Jenna Haze, which proved to be a tumultuous relationship indeed. This is where the "reality" of the dream started to come apart: the whole thing concluded with Batman, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl, and Huntress showing up and battling Norman Osborn, followed by some sort of dancing monkey circle or something.

I swear I didn't do any psychedelics last night. This sort of shit is just par for the course with my subconscious.

Oh,

and last night me and three other people drank almost an entire gallon of vodka. I feel like I should tack that on there.

The End is Nigh

I know I've hit a low point when I'm emotionally affected by any of the crap that's on the radio. Some people would say it was obvious I'd hit that point when I quoted Sarah McLachlan (see last entry), but not me, no sir. It's radio rock.

As of tomorrow, I am on vacation. I have mixed feelings about this vacation. On the one hand, not going to work for ten days is phenomenal. On the other, I'm not really going to have any personal space in which to enjoy this time of rest and relaxation, due to my current status as The Guy On The Couch. And that's kinda, well, meh.

Then there's the third hand, which is concerned about the fact that I'm actually DOING something for several of my vacation days, which I do not usually do. I'm unsure about how I feel regarding my planned activities. I'm partly excited, partly wishing I had made no plans, and partly disappointed that if I'd made no plans it wouldn't really matter anyway because I'm The Guy On The Couch. Vacations should not be this fraught with distress and confusion, but they inevitably are.

Where am I? I mean, seriously. What the fuck.

K.

"And I have the sense to recognize
That I don't know how to let you go..."

Every fresh wound is a reminder of the one that never healed.

Every dream a memory that could've been, every memory a dream that fell apart.




Freedom is just an illusion for those imprisoned by the past.

I am Quixote, under tutelage of Sisyphus.

Caterwauling

On my way home from a bar tonight I heard a cat in an alley making one of the worst noises I've ever heard. It was either crying out in desperate protest over its position in the grand scheme of things, or it was getting fucked in the ass.

Back and Forth

It's funny how during times of great emotional upheaval (i.e., breakups), people go through seemingly random emotional phases. For instance, tonight I'm just depressed, but LAST night the ONLY thing I wanted to do was go out and get in a fight. I had all this crazy aggression all built up and dying to get out, and I just kept thinking "I'll leave, go to a bar, and get in a fight with some douchebag." It's not like it would be hard to do. Thankfully, my calm, rational side prevailed, and I sedated myself to prevent poor choices from being made.

I HATE this back and forth shit. Like, I'm fine, everything's gonna be ok... then this crushing lonliness hits me. It's not like I'm physically alone anymore (like EVER, I live with three other dudes now), but that doesn't matter. I feel hollow and alone, like this part of me is gone and it's hard to breathe without it. Even though things had gotten shitty, she was still... there. No matter how bad things were we could still fall asleep together at the end of the night. Now I sleep alone, and that is the worst fucking thing. The closest I get to a bedmate now is situations like the other night, when I passed out drunk on the couch, then Travis passed out drunk on me. Not quite the same thing, you know?

And my biggest problem is that as soon as I lose that, I always immediately seek to find a replacement. Barring the last time we broke up, for about 3 months, I haven't been well and truly single since the beginning of my junior year of high school. That's five years. FIVE YEARS. 16-21. Crazy.

So... I'm lonely. That's about the only constant for me right now. Happy, sad, angry, whatever, that shit's all over the place. But the lonely isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Everything I've (Lost/Gained)

It's strange trying to process everything that's occurred in the last few days. I lost the woman I love, the apartment I shared with her, my rather humble recording setup, and the vast majority of my privacy (as I am now sleeping on some friends' couch). My entire life was reduced to I believe 9 boxes, 3 duffle bags, several guitars, and an amp; plus my disassembled desk and three small shelves I took so I'd have somewhere to put my clothes while I'm here (no one likes living out of a suitcase).

The vast majority of my few belongings will remain packed for the 3 months I plan on staying here. It'll make life easier when I finally get a new place, and honestly, it's kind of liberating.

This whole thing is, really. I mean, it all sucks, clearly... but this is about as fresh of a start as you can get. And while I did lose many a good thing, I also lost many a bad thing... which is almost like gaining something, yeah? Few things are more draining than a relationship on the rocks, especially if it drags out for an exceptional period of time. In losing the worry, and the stress, and all of the bad feelings surrounding the whole thing, I gained a new degree of freedom I've not felt in a damn long time, if ever at all.

So here I am, a free man; a newborn once more, set loose in a new world partially of his own making... but mostly not. To do or die, to yank on my bootstraps till they break, to (re)discover the meaning of my own life.

Here goes nothin', right?

All Time Top Five

High Fidelity is the single greatest breakup film ever.