How About That
Thursday, July 07, 2005
  Russell Square was my tube stop when I lived in London for school. It always made me happy just to think of the words. And now... 
  I cleaned my apartment. It's already getting messy again. It's so much easier to mess up than to clean. A mess just settles in organically. Removing a mess is artificial space.

Which is more zen, to believe that nothing you do matters, or to believe that everything you do matters? I would say the former because what kind of person would believe they are so important that everything they do matters? Even if everything they do does matter, they shouldn't believe it.

Things are so sad. I can't even talk about it because there isn't really anything to say. The magnitude of sadness keeps growing exponentially. I feel a constant ache for the hurt I know people are feeling right now. The people I love and the people the people I love love. It's a lot to feel and it's overwhelming and almost surreal. There is little to nothing I can do. And I don't believe that anything I do matters anyway.

Is that what it comes down to to be a person? Trying desperately to believe that you matter? When I let people merge in front of me or turn left in front of me in my car a big part of me wishes they would be so grateful that they would actually jump out of their car and give me a hug. I want to see tenderness. I want to see empathy. I was to see selflessness. I want to see trust and honesty and simple love.

I want to be able to be in a room of people who have thoughts I would find interesting and be able to share thoughts with those people. I want to see a girl who has whatever it is I find attractive in a woman and be able talk to her like a person of the same mind... a shared consciousness. I want to know the possibilities of connection.

My mind is being programmed for sadness. It is changing. It is relentless. I don't want to feel that my life is spent battling my mind. Do I need a doctor to make me feel differently? I don't want to need a doctor. I want my mind and body to be the machines they are supposed to be. What purpose does it serve to be at war with oneself? It makes no biological sense. Somewhere in my mind what I want exists... it actually exists as matter... somewhere in my mind. 
Saturday, July 02, 2005
  I came to the conclusion yesterday that I am expending practically every ounce of emotional energy that I have trying to convince myself that I don't feel completely empty. I couldn't be fooling myself any less. 
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
  Weird new song... but a song is a song, no matter how weird. Maybe this will break my block.

JUST LIKE PHILO FARNSWORTH

Just like Philo Farnsworth
They stole your grand idea
The tube that brought the world to us
And showed us what to fear

And now
With nothing left to claim
And nothing pending
For you to make a name

You packed up all your sketches
Headed to the coast
Armed with only theories
And a couple stubborn ghosts

Mary Beth, she tried to save
You from this heartache
She asked you what you're slaving for

You gave your all
Hit the wall
Now you just can't stop the fall
You could still
Climb that hill
But I guess you never will

Betting on the horses
Eating day-old-bread
Living more and more
Inside your troubled head

Every now and then it seems
Like you're just dreaming
Just like you used to dream

Feeling much too old to ever make the cut
And much too young
To say you're merely giving up

Once
Science was a way
To find the answers
But now you're only finding lies

You gave your all
Hit the wall
Now you just can't stop the fall
You could still
Climb that hill
But I guess you never will 
  I walked by a car today and Luther Campbell & 2 Live Crew's "Banned in the USA" was blaring out of the stereo. It's good to know that people aren't limiting themselves to the crap that is coming out now... they are reaching back to the early 90s for 15-year-old crap to listen to. Very impressive. 
Friday, June 24, 2005
  Well... apparently I am so unappealing that after one, hour-long date a girl can tell that there is no need for a second. Brilliant... it's good to know these things about yourself.

Oh well. I don't really think I'm the dating type anyway. I'm glad I had the experience but I just feel like I'm trying to be someone I'm not and that is not a very good feeling.

What else can I start doing at the age of 29 that I've never done before? What about hard drugs? I hear that those make your life AWESOME! 
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
  Where to start?

Maybe I'll work backwards.

Today is my 29th birthday. FUCK! I feel like I just wrote my pathetic blog entry for last year's birthday. I won't go on and on this year because it's easy for you to just look back at last June. Plus nobody fucking reads this thing anyway, so who gives a fuck-sack what I say?

Still working backwards... I went on a date on Sunday. It was very brief and sort of indescribably strange. I suppose it went well, though I don't really have much to compare it to. In some ways it felt a little like a job interview... except that I think I have actually been more nervous at my job interviews than I was during the date, which is pretty surprising. There's not really much I can actually say about it because mostly I was just confounded when it was over. The whole way back to my car I just kept repeating to myself, "What was that?" over and over again. I guess I'm just proud of myself for going through it at all. It's not exactly what I would call a natural thing for someone like me to do.

What better time for personal growth than a time of ultimate turmoil? I guess.

If you look back at the beginning of the month you will see that Edison Gower finally played a show. I was really excited about opening that door and hoped to move on from there. Unfortunately a giant wrench was thrown into that plan when Mark informed me that he will be moving back to Virginia at the end of the month. He says he plans on moving back to LA in a year, but I've heard such promises before and I'm not about to put much stock in them from now on. I certainly hope he does, but hope doesn't really accomplish much of anything except eventual disappointment.

So now, suddenly, I am faced with the prospect of starting an entirely new band and I'm proceeding in such a manner. It's pretty scary just dealing with a lot of organizational crap and people's schedules and tastes and skills. And all of this comes at a time when I have had every ounce of confidence wrung out of me like a smelly, old sponge that should have been thrown away months ago. I haven't completed a new song in longer than I can remember. I have a lot of fragments that I can't finish for some reason. And most of them are mediocre at best. I'm not sure I'm ready to lead a band by myself. I feel like it's just too much song-writing responsibility.

Natasha is gone, Shorty is gone, Mark is leaving, I'm 29-years-old, and my job will not last the year. What in the fuck am I supposed to hold onto? I feel like a cartoon who walked off a cliff and is just now looking down.

2005 is trying to kill me.

I had a dream when I was in Michigan for Nick's wedding. It's hard to describe because it doesn't actually make much sense, but I'll write it out anyway.

There are two young boys who are brothers. A curse has been put on them by a witch. They must forever remain underwater, beneath a boat in a giant tank. In the dream the tank was my parents' garage for some reason. Under the boat there is a wooden beam that they must forever balance two coins on, never letting the water wash them away. If they try to leave or lose the coins, the witch will kill one of them, but they don't know which one.

Finally the older brother can't take it anymore. He takes the coins and throws them into the corner of the tank and tells his brother to try and escape. But the witch appears out of what I guess was my parents' stove burner. She is half flame and half woman and she is screaming in a shrill, horrifying voice that one of them must die. And that is when I woke up.

Is that supposed to mean something? I wish I had a map to the corridors of my brain. It's frustrating that people are refused access to so much of their minds. 
Friday, June 03, 2005
  Well, after four years of being a band Edison Gower played its first show on Thursday. We played at the Lava Lounge as part of a benefit show for a friend of a friend whose house burned down.

As far as how our set went, I'm not actually sure. A lot of people said it was really good after we finished, but they were all our friends for the most part and I just can't trust any of them. So I'll probably never really know how it went. When you're up on stage it's almost impossible to tell how things are going. I couldn't hear the keyboards at all and my guitar just sounded totally bizarre. Oddly enough though, I could hear my vocals for the first time in any performance I've ever given. That was a revelation to me having always had to sing in the dark before. Oddly enough I sing a lot better when I can hear myself than when I can't. Who would have thunk it?

I made a few jokes, which was unexpected and we made it through our set, which was my main goal for the night.

It's a strange feeling after all those years of recording and writing to just go out there and play for people. It's certainly not my ideal musical experience if I had to choose, but it can be pretty fun. I hope we keep playing shows and get better and better at it. If we can find a drummer and fill out the band a little more we might even be a "real" band someday. Who knows? 
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
  I put it off for a short while, but I decided it was time to see Episode III on Tuesday. The movie itself had its major flaws, but held much more depth than the previous prequels. There were the usual cringe moments that episodes I and II had, but it was also a legitimately emotional and sad movie.

For me though, more than the content of the film itself, just the fact that I was seeing the final Star Wars movie was a very strange and bittersweet feeling. That is part of the reason I didn't see it as soon as it came out. I just wasn't sure I was ready for it to all be over.

My earliest memories involve Star Wars. It's meant so much to me for so long that I wasn't sure how I would feel experiencing the end of it all. It's true that the prequels have in some ways tainted the idea of this story and this galaxy, but it represents so much of my life that it's not even the movies themselves that I'm really speaking of. It's something more that the idea of Star Wars has meant to me since I could think and speak.

To explain what I mean would probably be futile. I would think that most people my age would just understand what I am trying to say.

When I left the theater after seeing Episode III I felt sad. For it all to come down to sitting in that seat, in that theater, in this city at the age of 28 just felt so small. But to think back on all the time I spent in that world as a child, in my mind, with my toys, with the movies themselves, I'm just not sure I was ready for it to be complete. 
A frightening glimpse into the mind of a lazy, good-for-nothing.

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