My O key is brken

     Things will never be the same. I didn't speak when I shuld have. I spke when I shuldn't have. I hate change. Things are going t change. They already have. Why must I be s stupid. S emotional. Maybe it's better this way. It probably is. That's what everyone is going to think. I want her to be happy. I want to be happy with her. It's not gonna happen like that, not in the way I want it to. I spent all that time pretending I had moved on when really, all I was doing was falling harder and hard. Now look where it got me. I spent so long hoping that she was in the same place when the truth was right in front of me. She moved on. A long time ago. I should've quit while I was ahead but I wanted answers. An explanation? I don't know what I wanted. Maybe I wanted to make myself sad. well it fuckin worked. All the helpful advice in the universe couldn't save me from my own idiot brain and the circumstances of life. I've just got to deal. I have to deal with the pang of jealousy. I have to deal with the heart ache, I have to deal with thoughts of her and I together. I just have to deal. There's nothing else I can do. It's over, really over, We want different things I think. Or maybe  she wants what's best for me. I don't care about that. I don't want what's best for me. I want her. I want to suffer for her. I want to change myself for her. I want to do anything to get her back. I talk as if she's going somewhere. She's not. Nothing is changing, and yet everything has.

I just wish she had more to say. I pour my heart out, slash open my lungs and let the guts leak out of my abdomen and she just stared. She couldn't find the words. She said her brain was like white noise. Static. I'm not surprised. I kind of dropped a fucking bomb on her and expected her to pick up all the pieces and make it all okay. Thats wrong of me. Shes human as am I, and she was overwhelmed.

still.

She barely spoke. Sure 

she reassured me she wasn't going anywhere.

But all I wanted to hear was that everything was going to be okay, or any words of assurance. just

fucking anything.

I'm not mad, I think

I think I'm hurt. Wounded like a deer that just chewed it's leg out of a trap.

thats a bad analogy.

Like a rabbit that just got shot in the foot. Perhaps it's better phrased as a hunter who shot himself in the foot like an idiot and turned to the rabbit, who obviously was speechless, and said "well what have you to say for yourself?"

But still. It would have been nice. To hear her voice. I cried a lot. Too much? probably. I wonder what she thinks of me now. Does she think I'm pathetic? Is she hurt? I wish I knew. I wish I knew anything she thought about me. Maybe then this could've been avoided. Maybe then I wouldn't be writing this, then again maybe tomorrow I'll get hit by a car and turn into an octopus. Best to not focus on the maybe.

My band played it's first house show, that was sick as fuck. I feel bad because I haven't been able to practice the drums. I have been so busy, and I have such a limited time frame to practice at home. I've been thinking about setting up the electric drums again so I can practice outside of the allowed time but that may require better headphones among other things so that's not happening anytime soon.

I have to schedule a doctor's appointment, like soon. Something is wrong with me, has been for a while and I need to get it checked out.

Life has been difficult lately, I'm proud of myself for not giving up. I got up at 8:30 am this morning. An hour and a half late. I'm calling that a win, because I didn't expect to wake up until noon.

I got a raise, that's pretty neat. I guess. Whatever.

My band plays on stage in 2 weeks, I'm excited for that.

The song of the week is Constant Headache by Joyce Manor

Strings

     Is it to much to ask for to be loved? Is it too much to ask for to be loved tenderly? simply? Must love be so complex? Is it too much to be loved with no strings attached? An uncomplex love? comprised of soft touches and warm moments? characterized by how easy it is too feel? to see? How does one know when love is love? How does one know when love is True. we are taught from a very young age that true love exists. It's a real thing. What qualifies love as true? Is it enough to just love? Must you declare it? "This is true love!" but if it were, would you even need to? Perhaps true love is detected by a 6th sense made just to identify The One. Perhaps True love means nothing. Perhaps it is just a chemical reaction that drives us to procreate. "You must carry on" shouts our species, so loud it echoes into chemicals that drive us to seek out The One. The Mate. The optimal partner. Is that true love? A genetic line-up that creates the ideal matching of your own and your counterpart's genes? That can't be

    Love is a pseudoscience. Perhaps the most powerful. Maybe that's why I just can't seem to get it. I just don't understand. Perhaps I'm the problem. Maybe I'm unloveable. 

No that's not it, because I am loved. I know this to be true. So what's the hold-up? The gears in my brain are gummed up. A programming glitch. a missing frame, an unknown variable, a goddamned missing metaphor that can't possibly portray how I think. How I feel. I'm stuck. I know I'm stuck. I'm trapped. I dug myself a grave 6 feet deep, looked up, and said 

"FUCK ME

 I'm in a grave six feet deep!" Why who could have done this! The shovel still in my hands I have a choice,

keep                                                                  out

         Digging                                Digging  

                           Down, or Start

no test I could run, no spell i can cast, no wish I can wish. True love is trust. Trust that I wont leave you and you won't leave me and we will be happy. It's that simple. What makes it complex?

Fear, paranoia, distrust. Does it start with me? Do I trust? I feel like I do, I definitely trust more than I used to. But is that enough? Maybe I need to do more. What more can I do? What am I doing wrong?

Perhaps I'm not destined for love. Perhaps my life is one filled with friends and that's that. No growing old with someone. Just an empty cottage on a hill filled with cats and loneliness. A fate I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemies, even rats have other rats! Perhaps this is my fate. My hell on earth. Myself. Tortured by the fact that I'm so damn insufferable nobody wants to stick around. Maybe it even makes sense. Maybe.

Well destiny can go fuck itself. I wont. I wont succumb to loneliness. I'll find love. I'll figure love out. The missing variable, the gummed up gears, the skipping frame, the glitch in the system, the metaphor that finally describes how I feel. Perhaps it's not a metaphor, or a glitch or a skipped frame or gummed up gears. Perhaps it just is. Love is made to be indescribable until you truly know it. Thats True love. When you have the examples. The field research, the ability to say "I know this to be true because I felt it!" Haven't I felt it? Why does it feel like it's been so long. Can I even remember? I'm too in my head I'm too in my head, I can hear it already

"Love just is you fool! Get out of your head!"

As if it's that fucking easy. I live here idiot. It's my own damn head! Where am I to go, the grocery store? Oh let me leave my head here by the door so I can just pick it up on the way back in and return to the solitude of my own skull. Sorry, my fucking bad. I know I'm too in my head, but how does one escape their own mind? I'm quite literally boxed in. To simply ignore it is not enough. You cannot ignore the walls of a prison cell, or the bars, and who's waiting for you on the otherside.

On the other side, who is waiting for me? is that a selfish thought? perhaps. Is it wrong to be selfish sometimes? The world will tell you selfishness is evil. ego, satan, demons, djinn, what have you. But what if no one else is looking out for you? Who is looking out for me? I know I have people I can rely on, people who love me. But who is Looking Out For Me. Who wants what's best for me. do I even want that? Sometimes it feels like all people want to do is suck you dry. use you. pick you up, spin you round, and lay you down wet. Discarded, assaulted, violated. Nothing but a tool to make themselves feel better. Surely not everyone I think is using me actually is. Perhaps they just are bad at communicating. Maybe I am too, maybe that's the true problem. Communication. Thats a doozy isn't it. It's the most important thing we can do ever and yet

People don't do it like I do. I don't communicate normally. The thoughts in my head come out like word vomit onto pages and sound like broken pianos in the air. Stutters, aphasias, misunderstandings. Tone, tempo, beat, rhythm, word pronunciation. Sounds that sound so similar, so simple, and yet complex all at the same time. Double meanings, truths. Lies. I love yous. I hate yous. All of the feelings that are lost in between. You hurt me, I'm sorry, you're crying, I'm angry. We're jealous, I'm ill. I feel like throwing up. Things we say we don't mean, things we don't say we wish we could have. Dialects, slang, childhood. There's so much to keep track of. Why can't I just scream and people get it. Why can't I open my mouth and speak eloquently. Why can't my mouth keep up with my brain, why can't my brain slow to a manageable speed. Why can't I carry around a clipboard and write everything down (I could but people would never be able to read it). Perhaps I should type everything into google translate. Never speak again. Allow my voice to be a distant memory replaced with the robot readings straight out of the shittiest dystopian fiction on the market. Maybe then I'll be able to love. Maybe then I'll stop making the same mistakes. maybe just maybe I'd be able to have a night's rest uninterrupted by dreams, sleep paralysis, wakings. Maybe then I'd rest easy knowing for certain, I am loved. Is that what it takes? My eternal silence? Who fucking knows. Maybe I'm just horny, maybe everyone's right and I'm too up in my head. Maybe my destiny is to die alone surrounded by friends who love me. Maybe I'm not to know what my destiny is. Maybe a question mark is all I need for now. The mystery. The possibility to love. Maybe I control that destiny. 

If that's true, how come I'm lost?

I may be behind the wheel but there's a gun to my head and a hostage in the back seat. Keep driving, The doors are locked. Whats the point of crashing, we're all dead already anyways. Just keep driving. Don't look behind you. the gun presses to the back of my head. Just. Keep. Driving. I'm playing chicken in a ford pinto against a jet engine. Don't go too fast, the gun warns, but if you slow down we're all dead. Jet after jet flies overhead and each one makes my nightmares more and more real. 

The doors aren't locked, The gun to my head isn't loaded. But the hostage is real.

And I don't know what to do.

none of this makes sense

but how I feel doesn't either.

The song of the week is Wash It All Away by San Cisco

New job!

  Yeah yeah its late again. Sorry i got a new job and things have been hectic. A lot has happened, and yet very little. My band is getting a bunch of shows booked, that's pretty neat I'm really excited to play on stage for the first time. It's a really huge goal for me to play on stage and it's finally happening. I'm also learning how to sing distortion and use my diaphragm when singing so I can do backup vocals. That goal is probably further out though. Singing while playing the drums is fucking hard. I'm trying to learn some advanced  drum stuff, gotta build on my skills and stuff. It hurts. My arms are so sore, and my legs. It's okay I have recovery days this week, I'll be doing nothing but taking care of myself. I've been trying to a lot more of that recently, I've also been working on being nicer to my mom. It's difficult though, because sometimes it's not me. Sometimes it's her. She's always so hellbent on spreading "positivity" or whatever but the second  she's in a bad mood she spits verbal poison at me as a self defense mechanism. I don't blame her, I can't. Still it hurts and I don't think she gets that.

    Work is cool! I like working there, and I'm picking things up really quickly. There's still a lot for me to learn but hey I assume it'll come with time, it's only my second week after all. There's a lot of stuff that I just haven't been taught yet just cause it hasn't come up. My coworkers are cool, they use my they pronouns so that's nice. Everyone is just really nice and very fun to work with. It's just a good vibe all around. Plus I make fuckin bank. This job doesn't feel like a crazy shitty burden for me either, not like Jamba did. I really like it and I think I'll probably work here for a while. It gives me an opportunity to get into backpacking and get better fishing gear and stuff. 

    I have really high standards for myself. For some reason when it comes to me I can only think in absolutes. I'm a horrible perfectionist and it makes me unable to do things I like for fear of failure. I'm starting to get over that but I'm still nervous that those thoughts will screw me up if I don't catch them. Sometimes they slip through the cracks and I find myself being hard on myself for being a "bad person" or whatever. It doesn't work like that. I try my best everyday to do the right thing and that is enough. Some days I'm good at it, some days I'm not. It's a part of being human. I have to remember that I am in fact human. I get grumpy when I'm hungry or tired, I feel bad when I'm dehydrated, tummy aches make me sad, and I shouldn't try and make grand sweeping claims about my life past 9PM.

This blog post is really late. But I've decided that these are for me, not you guys. Since they are for me, I'm not going to let them become a chore that I dread doing. I'm done doing that with the things I like. These come out when I post them, that way I can ensure all the effort I can muster is put into them. Unfortunately since I'm fucking BEAT this week you get a shitty one, don't even ask about last week  I worked ALL week and Monday was a no-go. that's all you need to know.

My first show is August 12th at the Lucky Liquor ($10 entry and it's 21+)

The song of the week is You Got Yr ----- Card Revoked by JER