For Reals

It feels that by doing all of this (submitting to expected ongoing social realities), I’m only delaying the onset of the inevitable. Be it what it may. Inevitability is a fact of life. Something is going to happen. My mind gravitates towards the miserable. More than likely will it will be the opposite. Always seems to be. Coping mechanisms.

As much as I crave routine, I fear it will be the end of me. There’s no room to breathe. Confined. Dark. Dry. I need some flavor. Some spark. Some real life. I only have to put up with the rest of it for as long as it takes to break free.

If I could, I’d live in an altered state of consciousness. Something different. I love people, but its easier for me to live in the lopsided sphere that envelopes my brain. Captive. No ransom, no bail. Now my relationships, let alone all internal threads are dysfunctional. I don’t feel like going anywhere and I don’t feel like staying either. I truly love and can’t stand all of it at once. Can’t seem to escape it wherever I go. I’ve tried to get away. It’s not that easy. It’s in my head.

What is it all supposed to feel like? How am I supposed to know when it's right? I don’t know a thing. Only feelings. And I love it when those change. Keep me on my toes.

I sound confused. I am. Strangely though, something about it all makes some sense of sense to me. Get it? There's nothing to get but a smile. Don't forget it, don't leave it behind. Those little things that crack the lips. Excite the face. Those are it. That's it.

Been listening to Illmatic on loop in the car for at least a week now. Probably have heard it close to 50 times through just in that time alone. Great album. One of the greatest. Just art. Some good ideas executed to perfection then wrapped up and served to the world. Gems like these don't come along everyday. "One Time 4 Your Mind" and "It Ain't Hard to Tell"

Stuck on Repeat

Sometimes I want to write little quips about things I find interesting, yet when it comes to putting words down, my mind draws blank. It’s frustrating. How versatile would I be as a writer if I could just write about some little factoid at length until exhaustion? I have the ability. I just don’t do a whole hell of a lot of prep work for these things. We people are funny creatures. There are so many of us. It’s pretty frightening. We’re all fighting for our way through this life. The fortunate (myself and most who would ever read this) are blessed with the gifts of time, education, and capability for abstract thought and introspection. The unfortunate (seemingly) expel all efforts on survival. Making way for the next dollar, the next meal, the next relaxing moment. My life seems to rotate around leisure. It’s what I’m accustomed to. I’m also accustomed to getting lost in thought and contemplation. Something that can be as hindering as it is enlightening. So this is my most serious attempt at connecting with myself, nature, and the other 6 odd billion people on this planet. The funny thing is, I don’t expect anyone to read this, but people do periodically and I still don’t even know about it. It’s what I enjoy, and I’m happy with it. I don’t have the will power or ambition to help the world on a global scale, it’s not what I want at all. I think the world is about as perfect it’s going to be at any given moment. There are capable individuals living out their dream helping the disadvantaged all over the world. Everyone’s got their thing and I’ve got mine. Billions of things. No one’s right, no one’s wrong. Some are definitely fucked, and other’s aren’t quite so much. But there’s a (dis)harmony only the supremely positioned and egotistical can ever tamper with. It’s happened before and it will happen again. Luckily for all of us, we have no control, nature reigns. The weight of the world rests only on the psychotic and delusional.

Thom Yorke was a real treat and highlight at Coachella 2 weeks ago. In the middle of his set with his band, he opted to play a few songs by his lonesome. Here are videos of the 3 songs he performed. The first, "Give up the Ghost" really blew my mind when I heard it. A complex string of loops and harmonies. The second he played was "Airbag". A great great song. The last he played was "Everything in its Right Place", which somewhat speaks to my point made above (at least the title). It sounds very different stripped of its electro heavy musical composition, not better, not worse, just different.

Fally Ranking

Dropping the ball. Keeping myself a little too busy. Haven't even been keeping up on my DC. Burnt the candle at both ends a little too crispy. Coachella was amazing. Great time with friends and music in the desert. Even before that I had been dropping the ball. Sleeping in 20 minutes too late. I'm still making my tea. Still eating breakfast, so why does this get chopped out. This is just as necessary for my attempt at productive and healthy living. Extinguishing and replenishing those creative flowing forces. Some days they are here, others they are vacated. Sipping a margarita somewhere more beautiful than my head. Its tough. Can't beat yourself up over things that slip through the cracks. If my whole life was one big crack (it often feels like it) then being upset with myself would be somewhat validated. Unfortunately for my inner masochist, I've been a busy boy. Taking that step by step approach to twentysomethinghood/life. King of the clueless. Redundancies. Being led blindfolded through the dark. My advantage is that I know I have none. Just bust it and trust it. Becoming human means learning to distrust instincts. Put more faith in my mind? That pile of mush gets me nowhere except 3 or 4 pegs down reality's ladder. Thinking in circles, creating whirlwinds which only serve to slam doors shut. Let's get primal, let that gut make the decisions. Let nature and the opposable thumbs take their course. It's tough, especially after all these years of forced humanity, obscured complexities, and over-analyzation.

Why do I care? I can barely stand witnessing pain. I cringe seeing pain in the faces of others. It puts me in a very ambiguous state. I can't feel the pain although I want to, I can only stand by and offer a depleted pseudo-comfort. All real comfort having been stripped from me in the process of witnessing. The only way pain seems natural in this world is when it's mine. So strange how it comforts. Death is beautiful in many ways because it is the absence of pain. Yet also the absence of life. Life is pain. Life is love. The extremes that bookend life and death. Pain, suffering, love, and beauty.

A powerful lyric from a powerful lyricist. I heard it for the first time much more than half of my life ago. Although it didn't mean anything to me then, it was still very applicable then and now. "I miss the comfort in being sad" written by Kurt Cobain in the song "Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle" performed by Nirvana.

A much more playful tune, counteracting life's dark truths with its sweet grooves. "Fally Ranking" Johnny Osbourne

Day by Day

Shoots. Not my intention to let it go this long, but last week was a little loose. Took care of the pooch and house. Besides missing my DC, everything has been going pretty good. Closer to the ultimate goal. Have classes lined up for Summer. Still searching on the job front. One step away from finishing my 2009 taxes. Music is beginning to sound better and better. We’re getting serious. Things are coming together. Synergy. What a bullshit word. Might as well say togetherness, collective chemistry or another loaded term. Synced energy? Is that really how they came up with that word? All I know is my energy flow is going at a pace I’m very content with. Making money would be nice, but I have yet many things to do before cash flow gets priority over energy flow. In fact, I think gaining dependants is the only way that would ever happen. Call me a hippie, call me a freak, call me a beautiful soul unwilling to sacrifice for artificial gain. I’m setting myself up for success. Ask anyone with happiness, and extreme financial security, it didn’t happen overnight. Maybe the hap chance lotto victor can claim this, but hardly anybody else. Even most of them will proudly claim association to the grind before the big gift entered their lives. Same goes with relationships and understanding. Trust your gut and your vibes, but don’t put thoughts and words into the minds and mouths of others. If something feels off then it probably is. Take a step back to see what could be different. What could make the uneasiness go away. Day by day.

"The Sky is Fallin'", by Queens of the Stone Age. Stuck in my head for 6 or 7 years now. Any song with Dave Grohl on drums is a winner, but penned by Josh Homme makes it even better. 5 days until I'm watching the two of them joined by LZ's John Paul Jones take the stage out in the desert...

Mondaise Malaise

“Livings mostly wasting time, and I waste my share of mine, but it never feels too good, so lets don't take too long.” - Townes Van Zandt

Seems life is wasting time. In one way or another. Whose to say that one person’s life was wasted more than another’s? Some people are remembered for years after their own life is over. However, this is a miniscule amount. Easily less than a fraction of a percent. I’m sure even some of those remembered souls are only remembered, because they spent their entire lives wasting time in a way that caught other people’s attentions. Most people’s lives are relatively insignificant when compared with those who are remembered. Who cares? Life is life, do what you do. Live how you live. There’s no right or wrong when it comes to being true. Define yourself truly. If success is what you’re after, it first needs definition. For me, success and happiness are one in the same. I would hope a good idea or two pop into my head at some point along the way to help me in the long run. I think this recent idea to go back to school is one of these. I cannot conceive of an outcome I’m unhappy with. I get to be myself. Get paid to be myself and do what makes me feel real. Just talking to people about life.

I don't care if I've posted this before. Listen to it again. "To Live is to Fly", by Townes Van Zandt.

Chant Down Babylon, Midterm Essays

Politics is something I will never subject myself to discuss with anyone I don't know very well. This is partly due to the fact that although I'm aware of current political issues, I don't usually read into them very deeply. It always seems to be the same story. They're wrong, we're right. If people actually discussed the topics that matter, in a way that was interesting and poignant, then I'm sure my ears would gravitate. I used to watch the Daily Show and Colbert Report pretty regularly, and I'd have to say I typically side with their views, only because they point out the the things that everyone else is too wrapped up in their own shit to realize is the truth. It's saddening, and I'd like to believe it wasn't as much like this before the advent of television.

Yesterday at the gym, an older man was riding the bike next to mine. On his other side, was an older woman, with obvious signs of plastic surgery. Obvious plastic surgery usually means only one thing to me: psychosis. Further signs of psychosis shortly presented themselves. She engaged this elderly man in a heated one-sided discussion about the healthcare bill. She must've started the discussion by asking him what side he was on. He gave the "wrong" answer and she berated him for who knows how long. I turned up the music in my headphones. I did catch her saying that she wasn't on either side, blah blah blah bullshit. I'm an independent as well, but I don't go around bugging people and asking them political questions that have "right" or "wrong" answers with premeditated reactions. It didn't end at the bikes either. When I was leaving the YMCA, I saw her pinning (figuratively) him against the wall discussing the same thing. AN HOUR LATER! Honestly, don't you get tired of listening to yourself...EVER?

I enjoy learning and hearing other people's opinions, but it seems anyone who really "cares" about "politics" knows everything there is to know. So, why would I ever engage myself with any political aficionados? I'll always "know" far less than them in their eyes and any statement, point, or insight I put a reasonable amount of rational thought into has a miniscule chance of being received in its intended form.

I'm just afraid that when it's my generation's turn to take the reigns, there will still be only 2 supreme factions in the metaphysical political realm: Those with psychotically skewed realities, and those disillusioned altogether with the topic.

Are you there Jah? It's me Ras Trent.

Jump Start Battle

New week, new focus. Last week I took off in a sense. Sprained my ankle Monday. Implemented the daily creative on Tuesday. Let that round out the week with the help of St. Patrick's day and an empty schedule. Everyone and everything survived the weekend. I have had the urge since I returned from South America to just start going. To jump start my life. It's an urge I'm constantly battling with. Jump starting is good when something is dead. I ain't dead. I need a caffeine boost if anything, but not a jump start. Trying to overcompensate within my mind for my situation. I'm not doing anything exteriorly to overcompensate, besides keeping myself busy, but my mind seems constantly on overload. Thinking way too much, without the balance of action. We'll see what kind of action I can get myself in this week.

Aside from that, Monday is off to a mundane start. Couldn't wrestle myself out of bed before 10 for any reason. The good weather has returned. Going on a little bike ride here in a few minutes. BIKES! I don't feel like partying yet, which is a good sign. I think that fire burned out yesterday. I had a heavy thirst from Wednesday until Saturday night. It was all I wanted to do from the time I got up, until the time I eventually went to sleep each of those nights relatively sober. I haven't had the itch on that scale for a long time without giving in entirely. The last time I can even remember having an itch like that was a year ago. Interesting to note, exactly a year ago, this day, this time. I was just leaving Las Vegas after the most ridiculous 3 day period of overindulgence of my entire life. 2 weeks later, I decided to leave my job and go to South America. It's about time for the ramifications of the decision to come back full circle, manifesting into employment or at least highly-focused direction.

Especially good for Mondays, but really vibes with any day, "Pure Sugar" by 10ft Ganja Plant.

So

It's Saturday. Uneventful night. High quality sleep. Satisfaction. Seemingly so. Only half truth. I was really going to be happy with any outcome. The dream I had directly before waking up convinced me that I should've had a wild night last night, but that's more because I didn't want to wake up having to think about what the dream forced me to think about. The great compromise. Hard to be unsatisfied when there's nothing being asked of. I'm the only one doing any asking. Couldn't tell you how that's working. Not well. So I can tell you. No answers. Maybe the questions aren't good enough.

Here are two statements definitely worth your time. First, "Cooler as Ekke" by Jack Parow. I read about him in an article about another South African artist I'll definitely be discussing sometime soon. Can't understand half of what he's saying (its in Afrikaans), but its a catchy catchy tune. Second, a name a little more familiar: Neil Young and his wonderful tune "Fuckin' Up"

Going Strong

Its one of those nostalgic days, wake up in the morning with the fan still running from the uncharacteristically warm March night before. Sun beating through blinds. Leaf blowers and lawn mowers somewhere nearby. I'm brought back to the memories of summer mornings 10 years ago. A strange absence of chaos. Taking too long thinking about things I don't care about. Too much time trying to distract myself from the day I know is inevitable. It's not like I have a ton to do, it just gets tiring. I'm making progress on a personal level, baby steps everyday. The world around me though, seems to be splintering into fibers. My beautifully neurotic and hyper affectionate elderly pup could possibly have cancer, and is reduced to wearing a cone so she doesn't chew off her own tail. My grandfather was also hospitalized today for the umpteenth time in the past umpteen years for the umpteenth minor stroke (I hope...).

Time. What a force. Age. What a bitch.

What would life be like without uncertainty? Certainly far too boring. Certainly far too certain. So I say, bring on the pain, bring on the despair! And bring on their counterparts. Even the days are too long for waiting.

Feeling nostalgic too? Listen to these "Hey Jealousy" and "Found Out About You" from the Gin Blossoms

DC2: There is a Name

If I start out the morning testing my brain, and letting it do what it loves to do, there is no way I can go wrong in a day. I have thus named it Daily Creative (DC). Especially on beautiful, sunny days like today, being far from employed in the conventional sense, releasing my excess creative energy takes a big load off in regard to the pressures of the ensuing hours. Find a job, find a place to live, feed and clothe yourself, be a man. It's a lot to live up to. I'm doing my best. I've always been taught to do things the right way, and I haven't been sure of it. I'm falling into it. I'm creating it.

I've been telling people lately, that my biggest fear is giving up. Becoming content with a situation and letting the light of my soul dim until there's no will to be myself any longer. This is true, but its a bit irrational. I took some time yesterday to think about what my biggest rational fear is, and the best I could do was the thought of waking up 5 days a week for the rest of my life in the dark, to go sit at a desk and wait on the sands of time for 8 or 9 hours. Routine is very important, and I know some people love being up before the rest of the world. I like to think I am the rest of the world. I'm everything everyone else in the world says everybody else is like. Neither here nor there, never concrete, always adapting and keeping true to the idea that there isn't anything worth "giving up" for.

One I love from Funkadelic: "Can You Get to That"

Major Lag/Back to Basics

So here I am, March 16, 2010 and not a whole hell of a lot has changed since the last time I scribbled a little ditty down. Still unemployed. Actively pursuing work. Decided to further my career in academia. Getting on that. I thought seriously about graphic design. I just don't think I want to go to school for a degree that is going to put me in front of a computer for however long I can stand it. Painting a picture in my head of my career twenty years from now. I can't see where or what I'm doing, but I know there's been an evolution. An evolution of ideas, concepts, activities, and routines culminating in a progressive path towards fulfillment and creating impact for those who care to feel it or notice. Why not start back at school in psychology. I feel it to be the perfect avenue for me to be me and to make the aforementioned mental picture reality.

Today I initiated into my life a daily creative system of exercises consisting of 5 minutes writing, 5 minutes drawing, 5 minutes of composing music in the vocal style, and 15 minutes of anything else creative or challenging I feel like subjecting myself to. I gotta keep it up. This is my livelihood. I can only imagine the wonderful things that could come out of this after doing it consistently for a while. As part of this daily creative, I also plan on jotting down a few ideas and introspections here at least a few times a week. It's not my job or anything...

Song of the day "Funky Boss" Beastie Boys

Lag

Adjusting to home living means a few things. Most notably, is the fact that nothing goes according to plan. I got used to plans, following through with them, and having little to no interference. Things change. I'm sure once I'm the king of my own castle again, things will revert somewhat to the way they were. Here at home, too many people, too many events, emotions, etc. Its hectic. Its also great having a loving family willing to accommodate, supply fresh fruits, vegetables, and other foods. Using my mom's old minivan (which is for sale, any interested buyers?). My bike is going to become my primary source of transport once that beast is gone. I've taken it for exactly one ride so far and guess what happened? If you guessed flat tire, you hit it on the head. Might be today's job getting that fixed.

Other things I need to do: find a way to generate moneys, find a place to live, get fit for rugby, play my drums, write and draw more, get outside and enjoy the fine California sunshine, procure more fruit of the loom pocket tees, finish my book and start others, get a haircut, the list goes on.

Living at home also means that I tend to avoid anything and everything for no particular reason. Procrastination is in full effect. Not good for anyone. I'm working on it. New Years resolutions haven't come into play yet. I've thought of a handful, but we'll see if any materialize into nonmaterial goals. Not making any promises, just trying to find a life.