Sleep is the one thing I haven't been having much of..
I've been having disappointment. Regret. Headaches. Annoying people. Work. Stress. M&M's. Teddy grahams. Check engine indicator lights.
But not sleep.. I wish I hadn't been a cocky bastard and checked off the classes I did last spring. That plus responsibilities for UTV and the studio plus the extra hours I'm trying to get in at the hospital is just becoming this one, massive, annoying clot. And unfortunately that clot is blocking my sleep-time artery.
But, I'm just ranting. So, what's been up with you? Oh yeah? To be honest, I don't care anymore. I'm tired of hearing people's bitching about their lives. I'm not saying I have it any better or worse, and yes, it is hypocritical of me to point out their bitching, but hey, I'm just doing it on a blog no one will ever read. Not everyday at the restaurant when I'm trying to eat my damned sandwich, or in class when I'm trying to work, or in the car when I'm taking you somewhere. And as a matter of fact, I don't want to constantly hear you brag about your successes either. Yeah, I've always been the 'go-to' guy to tell shit to, but for once, would someone just shut up about themselves and just say "oh, what about you?" Fuck... Now I'm forced to vent on the damned internet with the attention-whores, social-phobes, and weird people..
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Give me heart and give me soul
I'm a bit of a hypocrite. I use to have a friend. More than friend really, but I don't talk to her much anymore..
Back when she was going through hard times, I used to tell her that it's unhealthy for one to bottle up all their emotions and thoughts up. "Venting is a natural thing, it helps us cope" I used to say to say to her.
And really, who likes to sit there with all their problems, thoughts, and worries shoved up inside of them? No one. It doesn't matter if you're worrying about paying the bills, or if you have a date for prom, or if you have cancer. I'd say that you lie if you say you don't feel the need to vent once in a while. Some take more traditional routes, like writing. Others express what they feel through music. Others push themselves at the gym or on the trail. But the most of us talk, whether it be to friends, family, counselor, teacher, therapist, or that random attentive person you met on the train.
And really, who likes to sit there with all their problems, thoughts, and worries shoved up inside of them? No one. It doesn't matter if you're worrying about paying the bills, or if you have a date for prom, or if you have cancer. I'd say that you lie if you say you don't feel the need to vent once in a while. Some take more traditional routes, like writing. Others express what they feel through music. Others push themselves at the gym or on the trail. But the most of us talk, whether it be to friends, family, counselor, teacher, therapist, or that random attentive person you met on the train.
"So, vent" I used to tell her. You keep all those feeling bottles up and they become prone to exploding in a brilliant champagne supernova in the sky. Come a couple years later, and I find my self bottling up everything. One can only post so many ambiguous Facebook status's hinting at the despair they feel. One can listen to OK Computer so many times to find something they can relate to. I needed to vent. Problem is, I don't know anyone that I could fully vent to about everything without feeling weird about it, or without facing consequences for it later. Or maybe I'm just uncomfortable with opening up to people in that manner. Who knows.
All I know is that my problems are stupid and pretentious compared to a child in Africa or the president of the United States, but that piece of knowledge doesn't help dull the 'bad feeling' no matter how much I try to convince my self otherwise.
So, I found twitter. It was awesome. There were hundreds of thousands of people constantly micro-blogging, or tweeting if you will, about everything and anything. It was like standing on top of the Empire State Building and yelling out all your secrets. Obviously, anyone could listen if they wanted to, but who would? In a city of millions of people with millions of problems, you voice just drowns out. I sort of liked it. I felt I was being upfront about the things i wanted to say, without having anyone actually have to know about them. Stupid faulty logic.. (people ended up reading my tweets and interrogating me about them).
Of course, after a while, Twitter made it to the big leagues, and everyone and their grandmother was soon tweeting their stupid catch-phrases and inside-joke quotes. It be be douchebaggery at it's finest to impose the deep, chaotic, insensible working and ideas of my mind upon those people. So I stopped the tweeting. At least the vent-blog-therapy-tweeting.
I wrote for a little while. Just would pick up a pen and write what ever came to hand. That felt good. Sometimes i would just lose awareness and this subconscious part of me would start writing. That got freaky. I shuddered at the thought of anyone reading that stuff, so I burnt it all. Don't go looking for it. You will die.
Music, specifically the guitar has been and remains a way for me to vent ever since I started to play it. Love it. It's the best thing I ever picked up. But again, with my severely limited musical knowledge, I can only do so much.
It didn't help that i always had all these thoughts and ideas floating in my head that just needed to escape, to be recorded, and kept safe. I knew i didn't want to write them, not on paper at least. And so we arrive here. I've been reading a couple blogs for a while know (most notably the work of Dr. Ifinding), so the idea of starting my own isn't something that was spontaneous or new. So here we are. Hopefully I'll keep this up.
I hope it can serve not only as a way for me to vent, but also to just record my thoughts and ideas, keep a way to track my progress, and eventually reflect.
Of course, after a while, Twitter made it to the big leagues, and everyone and their grandmother was soon tweeting their stupid catch-phrases and inside-joke quotes. It be be douchebaggery at it's finest to impose the deep, chaotic, insensible working and ideas of my mind upon those people. So I stopped the tweeting. At least the vent-blog-therapy-tweeting.
I wrote for a little while. Just would pick up a pen and write what ever came to hand. That felt good. Sometimes i would just lose awareness and this subconscious part of me would start writing. That got freaky. I shuddered at the thought of anyone reading that stuff, so I burnt it all. Don't go looking for it. You will die.
Music, specifically the guitar has been and remains a way for me to vent ever since I started to play it. Love it. It's the best thing I ever picked up. But again, with my severely limited musical knowledge, I can only do so much.
It didn't help that i always had all these thoughts and ideas floating in my head that just needed to escape, to be recorded, and kept safe. I knew i didn't want to write them, not on paper at least. And so we arrive here. I've been reading a couple blogs for a while know (most notably the work of Dr. Ifinding), so the idea of starting my own isn't something that was spontaneous or new. So here we are. Hopefully I'll keep this up.
I hope it can serve not only as a way for me to vent, but also to just record my thoughts and ideas, keep a way to track my progress, and eventually reflect.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Death and All His Friends
"No I don't want to battle from beginning to end, I don't want to cycle or recycle revenge, I don't want to follow Death and all of His friends"
I don't know what it is about that line, but I love it. It's from a song called Death and All His Friends by a little band that has more name recognition then I care to mention. It sucks that all of their most amazing work like this song don't receive the kind of recognition their more pop-ish song do.. They really have an amazing collection of work..
But I digress. That one line from that song was so profound, it tugged at some deeper sense of self and understanding in me. That line has stuck with me since I first heard it, becoming a sort of tacit motto of mine.
In the end, I feel it says 'Live and let live'. It's a rejection of the never ending cycle of violence, of contempt, of rejection, and of misunderstanding. It is sympathy and empathy for your fellow man. It's bare-bone humanity, pure, uncorrupted, and true.
And its all just idealism. There's nothing practical in it. I'm not very old, I haven't seen very much, and I understand very little. But I understand the world isn't black and white. There aren't always simple wrong and right choices, and you cannot trust people to make the right choices, because in the end, what is right is only relative to you and your interests.
Still, it doesn't hurt to cling to an ideal, it gives us something to strive for. But I talk non-sense. Utter non-sense.
Again, I'm barely even of voting age yet.
I don't know what it is about that line, but I love it. It's from a song called Death and All His Friends by a little band that has more name recognition then I care to mention. It sucks that all of their most amazing work like this song don't receive the kind of recognition their more pop-ish song do.. They really have an amazing collection of work..
But I digress. That one line from that song was so profound, it tugged at some deeper sense of self and understanding in me. That line has stuck with me since I first heard it, becoming a sort of tacit motto of mine.
In the end, I feel it says 'Live and let live'. It's a rejection of the never ending cycle of violence, of contempt, of rejection, and of misunderstanding. It is sympathy and empathy for your fellow man. It's bare-bone humanity, pure, uncorrupted, and true.
And its all just idealism. There's nothing practical in it. I'm not very old, I haven't seen very much, and I understand very little. But I understand the world isn't black and white. There aren't always simple wrong and right choices, and you cannot trust people to make the right choices, because in the end, what is right is only relative to you and your interests.
Still, it doesn't hurt to cling to an ideal, it gives us something to strive for. But I talk non-sense. Utter non-sense.
Again, I'm barely even of voting age yet.
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