And I hate who I am
And I hate who I'm not

Tomorrow I go back to work
I barely woke up when I got home today

It's not so bad when I'm there
It's killing me like that

I should just give up
But I don't know if I could stand not to hate it

Quick Update:

I'm still capable of being more of an asshole than I had hoped as evidenced by my spooning watermelon juice onto a friend's jeans last night to win a futile argument. And then saying, "That's a victory for me."

I still hate the job that I have to start back to in the morning since it makes me feel like less of a man to be working for The Man. But then again, making money to support myself makes me feel like more of a man, so I guess the two cancel out. I'm still as much a man. I hope. What even is man?

I still can't cope with my sister since I managed to pass by her and make a silent joke without having to really talk to her the other night at the mall.

I still wonder if this album that the band is working on (mainly Rudy and I) will amount to anything at all. I really want to tour. I don't know if I'll be able to. The old plan was to be done by now so that we could start putting ourselves out there. I think I secretly hoped we'd get some attention before June so that somebody would book us a tour for the Summer. I should really stop keeping plans to myself.

Sorry, don't have any pictures of Jon in chaps yet.

Entheogens

This greatly amusing comic has inspired me to try for faith in a whole new way. All I need to do is contact a local dealer and purchase some entheogens to form my own personal link to God. Why let a church/mosque/temple help me out with this? I can get all messed up and do it myself! LSD Religious Pamphlet

The Way

Winter comes and snow
I can't marry you, you know
Without you the winter grows
I can't marry you, you know

Love me the way i love you
Love me the way i love you

Take a year in your hands
You can find another man
Let your unloved parts get loved
I will be your man

Love me the way i love you
Love me the way i love you

Places you should be afraid
Into the river we will wade

Love me the way i love you
Love me the way i love you

"The Way" by Bonnie 'Prince' Billy

One of my greatest achievements in life is to have remained a virgin till my wedding day and to have married a virgin wife. Clears up a lot of the trouble of worrying whether you're the best the other person's ever had. One can't compare what one has to what one doesn't know; with that in mind I'm glad I only know one woman's body.

I'm not sure if in that second verse, the bolded one, Will Oldham is asking the implied you of the song to go sleep with another guy for a while and then come back or what. Sure seems that way. I don't think I could be down with that. I'm incredibly paranoid. I don't think I could handle being with a woman who'd been with other men to get what she couldn't get from me.

Maybe Will Oldham is such a down fella that he can admit his own failures to this extent. I don't know. If that's the way he loves then I can see why it'd be hard to love him back that way. Not that songwriters write music that literally describes them or anything. Not good ones anyway.

Maybe I should start avoiding that trap.

I Used to Be the Nice Kid

I hope I'm not as big an asshole as everyone around me says. I used to be the really nice kid. Shit.

I hope that in the end everything works out. I play the cynic, but I really live my life like life is gonna work out just fine. Please work out, life.

Please for the love of whatever just work out.

Let's Get Known

So hey, let's get known. If we keep it up, we can show the haters. It's gotta be soon, not later.

So begins the song Let's Get Known by the unbeatable Unicorns. Man, I wish I could write so honestly. When I try I just come off as a 14 year old brat trying to write shit poetry in his notebook before bed. Unfortunately I'm running right out of external problems to write about with any conviction.

Hmmm, how to draw the line between macro-generalized problems and the micro-specified mundane? Who knows.

Most of my favorite songs don't make a lick of sense. I can't even figure out what much of them means. Like Radiohead, Will Oldham, they leave out the full descriptions, but still provide such tedious details as to give vivid imagery.

Vivid images of who knows what. How do you write towards that?

I'm more worried that they don't even try and that the effort I use spells my failure with its very presence.

Motivation

Young Jeezy stays motivated. No doubt. He's got two full albums devoted to motivating thugs. "Because the thugs need motivation, a lawyer team a good case and some dedication."

These last few days I've found that some activities (or the anticipation of them) bring me a semblance of satisfaction. But it smacks of contentment in an animal. Like the horse that feels fulfillment in the pulling of a load and the meal at the end of the day, or the ant that finally gets that bit of breadcrumb back to the hill. It doesn't point towards anything but survival. And why survival?

I make music. I enjoy it. I don't know what I'm making it for. Oh yeah, I want to release a full album in a month or so. The problem is that the last few days I can't find motivation... okay, that's not true. I work on it, and I accomplish things, but I feel like I'm doing it to convince myself of something. I want to believe that it's enough. I'm trying doubly hard (and getting exhausted) in efforts to win me over to my side again.

I love my wife. Very much. I would never leave her, cheat her, or do anything else to willfully cause her hurt. Lately I'm even preoccupied with showing her more affection than usual. I send her cutesy messages throughout the day, I remember to mention all the positive details about her, I do chores and give her anything I can figure out she wants.

I'm just afraid that I'm doing it to convince her. When we're together, finally, I feel distracted, harsh, distant, nitpicky, irritated. I spend all day wishing she was around and then make her feel unwanted when we're finally together. Which is my true self? Can one self be truer?

I'm chalking some of it up to the exhaustion of doing so much. And for what? To convince myself to keep doing so much. Time to sleep. I have no conclusions.

I probably just need motivation like Young Jeezy

Possible Lyrics

Silence can betray your thoughts

I know that you have things to say to me

Your words are claiming you don’t know

But all the things you’d convey

Are rolling down your cheeks

Pouring from your eyes

They’re pooling on your chin

Escaping in your sighs

Hurt my precious feelings

Call me rotten names

Scream aloud and cry and shout and

Make audacious claims

Just tell me what you’re thinking

For chrissake please say anything at all

Silence is no cover for

The brief moments [frustration] your anger gets your best

Deep inside your conscious

All those moments sit

Like throwing stones in fists

Swung but not released

Trapped inside your hands

Like idle threats they tease

Well toss them at me please

Hurt my precious feelings

Call me rotten names

Scream aloud and cry and shout and

Make audacious claims

Just tell me what you’re thinking

Just say something at all

Just tell me what my sorry ass

Can do to fix it all

Some Goals

The thing is, I probably won't accomplish many, or any of these:

• Eat less
• Exercise 3-4 times a week
• Be sure to eat at least one healthy meal every day
• Spend less on food (eat out less)
• Practice guitar more regularly (weekends included)
• Bend to the whims of my spouse more often
• Go out of my way to befriend music department fags

These are all hedonistic according to my new understanding of it. I think that despite minor pain and no immediate pleasure they will yield great gain in the future and allow me to avoid further pain. All except that last one. This picture is me reacting to mdf stupidity right now.

Anyone Who Says Differently is Selling Something

I really love my band. It's a powerful motivator. It makes me want to be better.

Tonight it also made me want to die. But not till afterwards. If only I'd just stayed home and made somebody else happy.

Possible tracklist for a new album:

01. Silence as anticipation
02. ... as assurance
03. ... as peace
04. Silence as inexpressible pain
05. ... as exclusion
06. ... as manipulation
07. ... as a weapon
08. Silence as desperation
09. ... as a resolution
10. ... as a final choice

Sounds emo as all hell, huh? Maybe a "clever" album title like Silence as the Grave would fit nicely. I guess I'll have to change my performance name to As Autumn Leaves Burn In Flames Becoming the Ashes of My Fallen Tears. I'll have to die my hair black and use a flat iron to make it hang all jagged in my face. I'll have to wear eyeliner. Actually, damn! This is starting to sound awesome!

On a more serious note, I'm studying Epicurus in philosophy. Today we redefined hedonism and it actually sounds pretty good. It's all about ultimate pleasure, not just pleasure in the moment, but making choices based on the best pleasure, which often means delaying gratification or working hard to achieve better pleasure in the future.

It's also all about avoiding pain. And in the words of Isaac Brock: "If life's not beautiful without the pain, when I guess I'd really rather never even see beauty again."

Wanted: Purpose

So much for productive blogging. I have nothing I care about enough to post anyway. Except a lame want ad.

Seeking: purpose and meaning for life that surpasses overwhelming sense of doldrum. Must be... hell, it can be anything. Must not force me to believe unprovable nonsense that I will eventually shake off as a load of shit.

Offering: hard work with great success when motivated.

Warning: difficult as hell to motivate.

Oh god, somebody I know has the most difficult disposition when she's groggy. And she's been sick for days. Sickness comes with a lot of sleep and sleeps means lots of groggy moments before, during, and after the act. That sentence was difficult to read. Oh well, nobody's reading. Anyway, I feel like the most annoying sack of rot on the planet when she's groggy. I'm incapable of pleasing (which I realize is more important to me than I'd hoped) and guilty if I try to escape.

That's all nonsense. I'm exaggerating.

But I still feel like I'm ready the way that Biggie Smalls and the Unicorns were.

Back From Florida, Despising Existence in Fort Wayne

Okay, this town isn't that bad, honestly. Nobody wants to hear me complain, especially not me. So I'll save it. I just hope that the weather turns nicer and everybody quits this sickness that's going around. And I hope I get a break from all of this catchup I'm doing at school. And I hope that this album I'm recording is the shit. I have seen the future, and there are people worshiping my music... never.

Back to class. During my break I think I'm going to post some real music reviews, change my layout, and update that music player at the bottom of the page. Should be fun. Damn, nobody's reading this. Who am I trying to convince?

Things I'm Afraid of Tonight:

• never being discovered
• being the kind of crazy person that knows they're crazy and can't keep from losing control
• wolves
• continuing a cycle of losing friends, gaining new ones, and losing those
• my house catching fire while I sleep
• losing a limb (especially a hand)
• going deaf
• zombies
• my libido

The Resolutionizing Thus Far

So far I haven't been doing very well with my NeYeRe (New Year's Resolution. (I came up with that on my own. (Yes. It is stupid. (So are multiple parentheses.)))) My attempts to reign in my crazy and be a better man have failed. In fact, I think that both of these options are too crowded out by the phony character I play when I'm at work to even fight over my mindset when I'm off the clock.

Tonight I experienced signs of mental instability in the form of mood swings which forced me to act like the silly, ineffective, (cute,) trying-to-be-funny self that I often indulge only to despise later in the evening. Honestly it was the thought of my beautiful bride which gave me an anchor to sanity again. However, once out of the pure crazy I then turned silly/eccentric. I amuse myself when I'm in that mood, hence the indulgence. Tonight I wasn't upset with myself afterwards, just a little worried.

Some concrete words to say about my struggle thus far:

Sometimes I want to be stoic and strong and a pillar of compassion.

Sometimes I just want to get laid.

Tonight I am finding ways to be ugly.

This should explain the mustache.

To Reconcile Contrary Truth in 2008

Here is the thing about being married to my wife:

I love her more than anything for being an anchor, a spotlight of truth and hope in my life.

Here is the truth about being a 21 year-old wannabe rockstar:

I want to be dangerous and free and respected for my skills as an asshole.

Reconciliation of these two truths is my aim for the new year.

The Truth About Christmas

The truth about Christmas was a secret I discovered very early in life. I was approximately three and a half years old. As I sat in the back seat of the car waiting for my dad to come out of Target I looked at the front seat and asked my mother point blank, "Is there really a Santa Claus?" I don't remember her answer exactly, but I know it was some parental bullshit. Which is okay. Who wants their kid to figure out this universal lie so early?

Anyway, I sniffed my way through. "Yeah, but how does Santa Claus get all the way around the world and..." I explored the obvious fallacies in the St. Nick myth aloud and I could see my mother growing visibly agitated. She asked me, "Do you want to know the truth?" Um, yeah? So she told me the truth: mom and dad, grandma and grandma, etc. buy the gifts and stay up later on Christmas to put the gifts under the tree and then they write Santa Claus in the 'From:' portion of the gift tag.

This did not bother me. It did bother my parents when I peeked into the trunk, knowing that my dad had no doubt purchased Santa's share in the toy aisles of Target (still my favorite department store.) It bothered them when I tried to peek under my dad's desk to find out what kind of wrapping paper I could find my loot in on xmas morning.

Now I am 21, and I wish I only had Santa to blame.

Babies

Babies smile as I walk by

They do not cry

I wonder why

Maybe time will tell that I

Have a softer side

I’m really kind

Despite

What my actions right now prove

It must be something they learn in the womb

That we forget as we grow long in tooth

Ask the babies, maybe they know the truth

Judgment swings so far and wide

Inside my mind

I’m never right

Anymore I’m giving up

On trying to duck

The verdict of

My life

Is my attitude really all that bad

Do boys pick poor rolemodels over dads

Cuz children seem to like me as I am

It’s easy for their minds to understand

My actions are so childish too

It must be something they learn in the womb

That we forget as we grow long in tooth

Ask the babies, babies know the truth

Medication

This is the part of me that hates to believe in spirits
This is the part of me that thinks I have nothing to offer
This is the part of me that never finds me funny
This is the part of me that hopes disaster strikes

This is the part of me that pretends I'm only faking
This is the part of me that has great taste in movies
This is the part of me that has no interest in learning
This is the part of me that hates my old best friends

This is the part of me that wishes I was lonely
This is the part of me that screams inside my car
This is the part of me that downloads too much music
This is the part of me that's wanting to be famous

Deer Me

Deer scare the shit out of me. I am not joking; I am really afraid of deer. I drive a lot and I live in the midwest. It's deer season. I am scared.

This weekend we drove to Kalamazoo, MI for a show at a new venue called Dino's. On the way we saw a car on the other side of the road with the passenger side of the windshield demolished and paramedics surrounding it. Animal attack.

On the way home I shifted lanes in the dark only to find the pieces of a deer strewn all about my lane, most remarkable being the upper torso and its still gleaming eyes staring right towards me (dead things can't stare "at" you, only "towards" you.) I freaked, but couldn't steer around it. The tires went bump on that awful head. Twice more we saw bloody streaks, a foot or two wide in some places, leading off of the road. Where did the animal go? Did it drag itself away? If it lives, is that a failure?

See, I think these deer are on a kamikaze style mission. I think they get overpopulated in the area, some of them can't find mates, they get really depressed, they decide to end it all and take some of those wasteful humans with them and they go for it. Human lives are taken. These beasts must be hunted and killed. They must be hunted by others though, because I'm very intimidated.

When we were finally back in Fort Wayne I was driving along Dupont Road and in the opposite traffic lane I spotted two deer standing at ease. I was terrified. Any moment they could leap into my way. Well, they weren't quite ready like Biggie Smalls, so they stayed put. But they eyeballed me like I was a small boy, something with no balls, a pathetic inferior with my life in their hooves.

I know anybody reading this probably doesn't care and doesn't believe me but I shook for ten minutes straight. My wife felt my arm and it was like a cheap rubber basketball of goose flesh.

Not convinced? Look at this shit:


A cross between a cougar and a deer. Terrifying.


An actual five-legged deer.

Scary shit okay. And regular deer are too.

The Things About Thanksgiving

The things about Thanksgiving I will not forget:

- My uncle and my great grandmother arguing over whether whipped cream should be put on the whole pumpkin pie, or administered by each individual up to the amount of their choosing.

- My mom and dad playing Guitar Hero II.

- Finding out that my uncle and I went to the same elementary school, had some of the same teachers, and that we have a flat tire and a dead battery (both) in the parking lot of said school.

- Remembering that I like babies.

- Hearing freshly mastered tracks off of the upcoming Vampire Weekend LP.

- Drinking beer in front of my family.

- Seeing my mom drink beer for the first time.