Flying home like color photos aging.

The plane jolts, and I am jarred back into the dimension of life called reality. I realize my eyes have been fixated on the snow covered plains.Cruising altitutde of 11000 meters, skirting the tails of a major snow storm about to sweep my home tomorrow evening. The ground looks like the old pictures from the photo albums my mother keeps. The color photos aging to where there is white, grey, the red is more black, like dried blood, blue and green fade and become the same color.

Home, that is where I am going.

At times it crosses my mind what the sensation of engine failure would be. That sudden deceleration, the falling pit in my stomach as the earth pulls back what belongs to it. What would my last thoughts be? would it be a series of regrets, wondering all the things that I have left undone? Who will take care of my possessions, fewer in number but spread out? Would my thoughts turn to my family, my parents, my childhood? Would they turn to sara, would I be in the car kissing her goodbye one last time? Would I go past, or future? Perhaps I would go nowhere, and face the present moment.

I am passing over the mississippi river as I type. I have never realized how large the flood basin is for that river, with the snow on the ground, the contours are much easier to see. There are wind mills as well, sporadically spread over the hillsides. They are whiter than the snow, seemingly frozen in place from so far away.

Geologists warn that a major earthquake is due in this area sometime soon. They issue it in earnest, as if it would cause some salvation to those who heed it. It's almost impossible to believe that such a thing would happen during our lifetime, or our passing through.

Death is the easiest thing to prepare for, simply because once it happens, there is no affecting its outcome, what is done is done. Or maybe it is that my view of life after death is skewed, maybe its much like this life all over again.To fall out of the sky would be simple, it would happen and nothing could stop it. But landing, and going on with life, going home, seeing family and friends, going back west, making future plans, no, without simplicity those things are carried out. they are interrupted at once by a trivial event. And again a plan must be made before death comes to call us from the waiting room.

The sun sets as we race to meet it coming the other way. I sleep intermittently trying to make up from the last two nights of broken slumber

Everybody look down.

It started with a low light. Next thing I knew they ripped me from my bed, And then they took my blood type. It left a strange impression in my head. You know that I was hoping That I could leave this star crossed world behind, But when they cut me open. I guess I changed my mind

And you know I might Have just flown too far from the floor this time, Cause they're calling me by my name, And the zipping white light beams Disregarding the bombs and satellites

That was the turning point
That was one lonely night

The star maker says it ain’t so bad
The dream maker’s gonna make you mad
The spaceman says everybody look down
It’s all in your mind

Now I’m back at home and I’m looking forward to this life I live. You know it’s going to harm me
So hesitation to this life I give

You think you might cross over. You’re caught between the devil and the deep blue sea
You better look it over Before you make that leap

And you know I’m fine, but I hear those voices at night. Sometimes, they justify my claim
And the public don’t dwell on my transmission
It wasn’t televised

But it was the turning point
Over the lonely night

The star maker says it ain’t so bad
The dream maker’s gonna make you mad
The spaceman says everybody look down
It’s all in your mind

The star maker says it ain’t so bad
The dream makers’s gonna make you mad
The spaceman says everybody look down
It’s all in your mind

My global position systems are vocally addressed
They said the Nile used to run from east to west
They said the Nile used to run
From east to west

And you know I’m fine,
but I hear those voices at night
Sometimes

The star maker says it ain’t so bad
The dream maker’s gonna make you mad
The spaceman says everybody look down
It’s all in your mind

The star maker says it ain’t so bad
The dream maker’s gonna make you mad
The spaceman says everybody look down

It’s all in your mind

It’s all in my mind
It’s all in my mind

"Spaceman" by the Killers

For such a great song, this latest album from the Killers was a real let down. I wish this was the only song I heard from their 2008 release. I do not know which feeling consumes me more; if, as a fan, I am pissed at this mediocre shot in the dark. Or if, as an artist, I sympathize with hitting a wall when having to meet deadlines.

So, for those who don't have a lot of time, or money (supposing you still buy c.d.'s), just get this single if you can, the rest can sadly be forgotten about.

On to other things.

I think, aside from spinal tap, I got the most painful shot available yesterday. After suffering from tendinitis for the last five weeks, I decided to go down to my doctor and get a cortizone steriod injection. I've had one before, but for other reasons. After waiting an hour and a half I finally get to sit down with doctor Jaffe, a kind, middle aged general practitioner. We talked for about twenty minutes on the causes of my injury, future prevention, and current solutions. I took curtain number 2, the injection.

The last time I had a cortizone injection, it was about 3 cc, maybe a little more, and the shot went into my hip, relatively painless. But for tendinitis, no, it goes directly into those delicate tendons that keep your bones and muscles connected.

The doctor tells me the cortisone shot for tendinitis is injected into the sheath to allow a more acute and quicker healing. I didn't mind so much the thought of the procedure, thinking it might be a little painful, but it couldn't be that bad. 10 minutes later he comes back in with a syringe that's half filled with the steroid, a white, thick looking substance. My eyes bulged, my throat dropped into my stomach, and I about walked out of the office without saying a thing. But I stayed, thinking the healing would be worth any pain I was imagining. I'm not sure if I was right by that judgment. Jaffe injection 2cc's in one spot, and 1 cc about 3/4 inch toward my elbow. Within 5 minutes, my arm was numb, my face was pale, my breathing labored, my blood pressure dropping rapidly. in 10 minutes, my hand had turned a purplish blue, and my stomach wanted to empty all of its contents from the last three days. It's not the shot that hurts, it's no worse than changing string on a guitar and poking your fingers with a thin string's end. No, its the liquid being injected, and how much room it has to disperse, the rate it is ejected.
I think I sat in the office waiting room for 25 minutes before I could leave. lovely.

Today, my wrist is bruised and sore from the excessive fluid floating through my body. Hopefully in 8 days the pain will be completely gone, I can continue healing, and get back to one of the few things that has given me a true sense of motivation and purpose in this life.

In ten and a half days I'll be freezing my butt off next to a gas fireplace that isn't on, somewhere in north central Ohio. Not that such an event is to be loathed, I am quite anxious to hurry home. It took me 2500 miles of separation and countless lost friendships to understand what it is that family means.

Things with Sara are going very well. It was very difficult for me to move past the last relationship. I had convinced myself a long time past that I was over it, that things were long gone over and that possibly it never existed in the first place. Little did I know or see how that not only had the fallout not disappeared, but had trickled down with subtle but destructive force over time in into all too many aspects of my life. Amazing how little it all matters now.

solidity, solidarity, peace, comfort, understanding, affirmation, compromise, prayer, encouragement, sarcasm, patience, all new adjectives to an elusive idea known as "love."

One last hope
To rise and break away
Above the fading line
Way beyond the ties that bind
This I know
The risk is worth the gain
It's worth the sacrifice
Way beyond the ties that bind
--alter bridge

Being with her has shined a much needed light on old phantoms, on things of the heart not dealt with. At first it scared me, but then I realized I was seeing the end of all the things that should not be. I've heard it said that it takes one relationship to get over the wreckage of the last, and in many ways I know it's true. With her hand in mine, the past matters little, only the lessons learned.

I'll never long for what might have been
Regret won't waste my life again
I won't look back
I'll fight to remain:

On this day I see clearly everything has come to life
A bitter place and a broken dream
And we'll leave it all behind
On this day its so real to me
Everything has come to life
Another chance to chase a dream
Another chance to feel
Chance to feel alive
--alter bridge

Morning

Friday morning:

jonny gets up at 6:30, my earplug falls out and I hear him leave at 7

8:45 and my alarm goes off, i pull myself from celestial dreams to hit the off button and roll back over, missing the crescent moon and her shadow.

10:53 I wake up and check my email.

11:15 the stock market has fallen, OJ simpson is behind bars for 15 years for bad acting and petty theft. The Treasury throws 125 Billion dollars at AIG without any clue as to how it's spent, and yet is reluctant to give the automakers a penny.


11:45 sara leaves for work, and left wondering what to do with my day. Wondering if i can practice 30 minutes, or 3 hours, or more.

12:03 I decide if I do go into politics, I refuse to work for any state, senate or administration.

12:15 Should I take a shower?

12:17 I really Hope the school has processed my overpayment check so I can get food and do my laundry on Sunday and Monday.

12:21 I am listening to Death Cab, and decide I'm going to learn "I was a Kaleidoscope"
...remember "I" before "E" except after "C" or words such a "neighbor" and "weigh"...but what about "Kaleidoscope"? vital information withheld.

12:30 a twin engine plane flies overhead reminding me where I am at

12:34 I'll chase any open door, as long as I dont return to who I was before.

Smile like you mean it.

The words do not flow freely anymore. Unless I'm almost getting hit by cars in Hollywood, in which case there is no shortage of obscenities and gestures being exchanged across the asphalt intersections.

The last series of posts were rather depressing, and rightly so. I've been suffering from tendinitis for almost 6 weeks now, so acutely that I had to stop playing in the middle of the quarter at MI. So because of such hindrance to my practice, I've had all too much time to sit around and think. I'm predisposed to be critical, and its not an excuse, but it is true. The nice thing about regular colleges and universities, you dont have to perform all the time, your concentration is book learning. You read and you write, you talk to people all day. You're in an environment where the greatest of thoughts and theories can be lofted before they drop dead in the real world. Your food is already paid for and cooked. Your security is a non issue. Such luxuries I really miss. I would go on about my sob story, but basically, the opposite is found here. While finances are taken care of, I constantly ache for community, and cannot find it.

Maybe I'm just waiting for sitcom circumstances to occure, or hoping I can run into it. I want Jerry and Kramer and Elaine and all the stupid insignificant arguements and laughter and awkward situations. I've never found a more lonely place than this town, even with its crowded issue, over 2400 people per square mile in LA county.

I went home for thanksgiving. Was swamped with people, and with extreme fatigue because of flying overnight to Cleveland. I think that is the last time I attempt to fly red eye for a short weekend trip. I was almost delusional at one point. But the state of mind when deprived of sleep is absolutely fascinating. Not that there is some clarity to see through, but everything is so confusing that a whole new world of ideas and thought become available, like new colors and shades being formed by paint thrown against a canvas in an artists fury.

Things with Sara are going really well. I'm so glad I did not just write her off, but gave things a chance, to allow the walls and presuppositions to fall crumbling to the ground. We've always been an odd pairing, from the first days we started talking almost 2 years ago. But we've been good friends for a long time now, making this early stage easier to work through.
I don't like delving into it in such online forums as this, more for her sake, and frankly, if you're not around or don't call, much of what I write is not that relevant anyways (unless you're one of those I told I would call back, and haven't, sorry). This is the one part of my life I don't like delving out, even for all the joy that she brings me. I don't even know who pays attention anymore.

One last series of disconnected thoughts. SoCal's attempt at Christmas is genuinely laughable. If it's 85 degrees in november and december, dont make cute winter wonder land backdrops and all the things that the northern states get to enjoy and suffer through this time of year. I'm happy to have warm days all the time, and wearing shorts in December. The snow and cold is nice for about 7 seconds, and then it really sucks. So why attempt to make it out that it's not? The sun sits higher than 60 degrees in the afternoon. But maybe it's the thought that counts.

One last last thought. A church group parked a truck outside the school, with a band situated on the bed, playing contemporary church music for all in hollywood to hear. I was walking with Val past all of this, wondering what in the world was going through their heads that made them think what they are doing is a good idea. It was funny, because Val and I were just talking, among many things, about our issues with the modern church and the culture of ignorance and insensitivity that has gripped it. Admittedly, I am disenfranchised, dissasociated with it all. Ironic because we both know how that the church provides, in its pure context and execution, a community unavailable most anywhere else, but how utterly some things have come to offend us.
But for some reason, passing this caravan of well meaning people, blaring with unabashed fervor a series of medocre songs, I felt well, frankly embarrased. I dont think these, or many, people understand Hollywood, or the world. They pulled up in front of the premier contemporary music school in LA, singing out of time and out of key, blasting full volume into our cafeteria. Immediately, they've proven that everything they stand for is only half ass, no matter how wide the smile, how real the joy may feel. The demograph, if any, that they were trying to witness to, has no homogenous link. People come to hollywood because they're star struck, they're looking for some semblance of the celebrity that will, for a few seconds of they're lives, let them know what it's like to be apart of the cult of cool. These tourists are in a hurry, out of their homeland, and out of touch, with eyes set on some of the most tempest and temporary things this world has to offer.

what I'm trying to get at, is if your going to try and the meet the world head on with your faith, you better have something to show for it, and not just the morals and principles your parents handed down to you along with all the meaningless praise for all the mediocre things done in the name of Christ.

Harsh? maybe, but there is a world dying out there; and it's not at the corner of Hollywood and Highland.

Anywhere but here

So this is me, almost 4 days without playing my guitar, and I'm starting to get shaky and clamy, mood swings, delusional, severely depressed, schizophrenic fits . I never thought of it as a drug, but it has the effect of chemical stimulation once you're well into the practice. Like running, or body building, or pumping opiates into your veins. wait...

Or maybe it is the effect of being bitten by Hollywood, morphing me into something monstrous as the new moon rolls over head. That might be pushing it a little too far. I've been far too cash strapped to allow myself to enjoy the revelries of young foolishness that abound here. But living here, and once again having too much time on my hand, I am reminded that I do not belong in this town, and that I should have known better than to settle for living in downtown Hollywood.

I took a walk on down to West Hollywood on Saturday, and found something more, well, American than anything where I am at. It's quiet, the shops are diverse, the communities are safer, the houses are not covered in iron bars and spiked fences. The Community is provided with semi private parks with a full range of recreational facilities. The city of West Hollywood has a heavy eastern european influence, which I must say, is a wonderful break from the overwhelming hispanic culture... To put it simply and without causing too much offence, there are several good reasons no one wants to invade Mexico.

Walking back was more than depressing, going from a city where the communities are more the epicenter of municipal conern, to a slum where tourism and entertainment is the only focus.
Some statistics
total population of LA 9.9 million
population per square mile 2,344
Percentage of high school graduates age 25+ 69
Percentage of Bachelors degree or higher age 25+ 25

I'm packed in like sardines with a highly uneducated population, and it really shows sometimes...woohoo
But on a lighter note, reports show that every form of felony offense, at least in Hollywood, is down by an average of around 10%. The only crime that was up in number was rape.

In a town that sells sexuality as an entree, I'm not surprised.

Living here has taught me to be insensitive to humanity, to those that struggle. I know well that everyone has a story, but I've seen so much absurd behaviour and needless suffering, that I no longer care about the soul behind the eyes, as long as it doesnt spill into my life, stick to my shoes on my walk home, disrupt my morning routine.

I have to get out of here and soon. Anywhere but here.
Anywhere but Hollywood.

Destination: Unknown

I think of all the times I am standing on middle ground. Like many phases of my life, there is a soundtrack to accompany. Today, well, this morning, this night, its goo goo dolls. The sound relates to color of the mood. I'd rather be practicing all hours of the day, instead of getting through classes and practicing until my wrists flare up, which I hope is more than 2 or 3 hours. No such luck today, and so once again I am left with all too many hours to contemplate my life and all the decisions. Treating them like the end all to my existence, which certainly they are not.

I sat in with a band tonight, it had the feeling of somewhere between an audition and trying on sweaters at the outlet stores. I rather enjoyed it, playing with other musicians, people I either had never met or hardly knew, yet all connecting through original songs. We all went out for coffee at starbucks afterwards, the time now being 8:30. For the first time, I felt like I was part of some community at school. Some patchwork connection of decent and fun people who were content to talk and laugh with and at each other.

I guess feeling neutral about everything is the closest to content that I can become for now. It sucks having to coast through the rest of the quarter, just so I don't permanently injure my arms. But when I was playing all day, I had no time to think, that was a nice change from the previous 7 months. I guess what I'm trying to get at, is that while it's important to take time for yourself, to love yourself and take care of the gaps causing pitfalls, eventually you must move away from it, and turn your hand to that task which is most at hand, get back to work.

Life is so strange, when you dont know. how can you tell where your going to? you cant be sure of any situation, something could change, and then you wont know. Where do we go from here?
it seems so all too near, just as far beyond as I can see. I still dont know what this all means to me. I have no where to go, I dont know what to do. And I dont even know the time of day, I guess it doesnt matter anyway.

Life is so strange, destination unknown...something could change, its unknown, and then you wont know. Destination: Unknown

from smashing pumpkins

I had a rough time at Starbucks...END OF THE WORLD OMG WTF LIKE WHATEVER!

Sorry, the valley kid comes out of me every once in a while...ahem...

*clears throat*


I dont understand some things here. And most certainly this is not the first or last time I'm going to vent about it.
Why, oh why, do all the people suffering from mental disability, social disorders, and crime oriented natures, end up here? What is the big attraction? Is it the job market? The overpriced grocery stores? The morbidly obese property value? The insurance rates? The 8.25% tax on everything? Maybe it's the lack of shelters, day cares, hospitals? no? then WTF are they doing here!!? Is there some drive in the nature of afflicted persons to seek out what could have been a paradise and then shit all over it's sidewalks?

It's not just a few, this place breeds insanity, attracts it like flypaper. Excuse me while I violate all attempts to consider all men equal and basically good. Those ideologies dont work out here, and it is only perpetuated by its victims who do nothing to better their lives. Sorry, but if you piss away your existence and your livelyhood, spread your misery to everyone you meet, no one is going to want to coddle your sorry poor ass, scream at the air because that's all that's left of your will.

I'm so tired of it tonight, if you couldn't tell. Perhaps the poor air quality is making me cantankerous.

About 15 years ago, MI moved its main building, from one side of Hollywood BLVD, to the other, literally directly across the street. 15 years ago you could get mugged in broad daylight here. Why not move the school somewhere away from all the creeps, the vicious streets filled with strays and victims of all the better ends of society. Sometimes I really wish I'd moved out of this God forsaken city, and commute in for school, return to normal society in the afternoon.

I need someone to blame, because certainly I'm not a victim to my own decisions....

until you live here, you can't tell anyone the bad place hollywood can be. System of a Down hit it pretty well.

I'll wait here,
You're crazy,
Those viscious streets are filled with strays,
You should have never gone to Hollywood.

They find you,
Two time you,
Say your the best they've ever seen,
You should have never trusted Hollywood.

I wrote you,
And told you,
You were the biggest fish out here,
You should have never gone to Hollywood.

They take you,
And make you,
They look at you in disgusting ways,
You should never trusted Hollywood.


I was standing on the wall,
Feeling ten feet tall,
All you maggots smoking fags on Santa Monica Boulevard,
This is my front page,
This is my new age,
All you bitches put your hands in the air and wave them like you just don't care.

All you maggots smoking fags out there on Sunset Boulevard.

All you bitches put your hands in the air and wave them like you just don't care.

Phoney people come to pray,
Look at all of them beg to stay,
Phoney people come to pray.



(The lines in the letter said, "We have gone to Hackensack")
Look at all of them beg to stay

Phoney people come to pray.

All you maggots smoking fags on Santa Monica Boulevard,
All you maggots smoking fags out there on Sunset Boulevard.
All you maggots smoking fags out there on Hollywood Boulevard.

You should have never trusted Hollywood.
You should have never gone to Hollywood.

All you bitches put your hands in the air and wave them like you just don't care.

You should have never trusted Hollywood.

Emersonian thought

So on Thursday I woke up reluctantly at 7:20 to walk over to the doctors office. My ear problems have not subsided, and once again I had to walk the mile to the doctors office. I ended up talking about the pain in my wrists, and through x-rays, confirmed I have tendinitis in both arms.... hurray for potentially career ending injuries!

I missed my morning classes because of the waiting, but in exchange I was able to read through several of Emerson's essays, especially enjoyable was his perception of politics and law. A more timeless, pragmatic, universal approach to understanding our system. I thought that our time and our circumstances are our own, that the challenges against corruption and unmotivated politicians was a condition unknown to our country. But nothing is new. The mindset is the same as it was 150 years ago, the young idealists pitting a shitfit of discontent against the more jaded deaf older rulers. We are self perpetuating our own tragedy. So great a body of people, with a few small issues that threaten us at any moment to ruin the work of 10 generations.
Emerson is not known for his confounding wisdom, but by his ability to assimilate so many different opinions, philosophy, emotion and to thus build a world of perspective unimaginable by most. While certainly i cannot agree with all that he says, his works shine light into my life, showing a better way to walk and to perceive.

and so in this time of political transition, globalization of economies and religion and culture, here are some words from the past, not so different from what our own scholars may soon observe.

"...The state must follow, and not lead the character and progress of the citizen; the strongest usurper is quickly got rid of; and they only who build on Ideas, build on Ideas, build for eternity; and that the form of government which prevails is the expression of what cultivation exists in the population which permits it. "

"..That truly the only interest for the consideration of the State is persons; that property will always follow persons; that the highest end of government is the culture of men; and if men can be educated the institutions will share their improvement, and the moral sentiment will write the law of the land"

"Democracy is better for us because the religious sentiment of the present time accords better with it. Born democrats, WE ARE NOWISE QUALIFIED TO JUDGE OF MONARCHY, WHICH TO OUR FATHERS LIVING IN THE MONARCHICAL IDEA, WAS ALSO RELATIVELY RIGHT.... Every actual State is corrupt. Good men must not obey the laws too well. What satire on government can equal the severity of censure conveyed in the word politic, which now for ages has signified cunning, intimating that the State is a trick? "

"The spirit of our American radicalism is destructive and aimless; it is not loving; it has no ulterior and divine ends; but is destructive only out of hatred and selfishness. On the other side, the conservative party ( and i like this part too much), composed of the most moderate, able, and cultivated part of the population, is timid, and merely defensive of property. It vindicates no right, it aspires to no real good, it brands no crime, it proposes no generous policy, it does not build, nor write, nor cherish the arts, nor foster religion, nor establish schools, nor encourage science, nor emancipate the slave, nor befriend the poor, or the Indian, or the immigrant. From neither party, when in power, has the world any benefit to expect in science, art or humanity at all commensurate with the resources of the nation. "

"Wild liberty develops iron conscience. Want of liberty, by strengthening law and decorum, stupefies conscience."

"We are haunted by a conscience of this right to grandeur of character, and are false to it....We do penance as we go."

"Surely nobody would be a charlatan who could afford to be sincere."

"the power of love, as the basis of a State, has never been tried."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reading from over a century past of all the fervor to eradicate corrupt power, to provide a more stable government, assures me that all those spending time ringing hells bells against a certain party and its leaders, do so because they are ineffective themselves to cause any change.
I rest easier understanding that these problems we face today are only reincarnations of past mistakes, complicated by weak minded and ill will personality.

Emerson understood well the power of a strong individual to impact every facet of his existence, and that as a whole mankind must work towards bringing that out in every individual. His works I suppose only scratch the surface of his understanding of mankind, as individual, as whole, both future and past.

"I can do that by another which I cannot do alone. I can say to you what I cannot first say to myself. Other men are lenses through which we read our own minds"

It's complicated alright, but it makes me happy

I would have thought that since my wrists have started to give out more frequently, I would have more time to write, read and blog, but somehow time escapes me. I blame the internet, now that I am paying for my own wireless in my apartment.

Last night, sara and I went to the beach for a few hours. The off season from the tourists is a nice break. We enjoyed the power of the ocean through hearing its waves crash, its silent tide washing out, the scent of the brine, its mystery, the display of lights from the city, the moon high above, and each others reassuring presence. Those hours, I seemed so far away from all the troubles in my mind, the pressures from an encroaching future, the work to be done at school, the fragmented past friendships, emotional burdens long carried beyond their natural dwelling, all these things faded away into the blackness of the western, ocean soaked horizon. The flashbacks that recently have been plaguing my mind, subsided as she rested in my arms, shivering in the cold. Nothing mattered as it began to sink in, that resting on my chest was the truest friend I've had, that through the fading light in my eyes, she still saw the hope in my better days. Thankful that I've finally come around, and that she hadn't given up on me.

So much remains uncertain, as even now our busy and or constrained lives prevent us from seeing each other but once a week. It makes mondays longer to get to, but more worth waking up to and sitting through. I guess this is the insert about "it's complicated" but I dont even know what that means. Of the few people I've talked to about the way things have been progressing, a common theme keeps getting repeated "Well, Dan, It's been a long time coming..."

She has come into my life like a gentle breeze from summers long past, summers long ago spent while I was unaware of the turmoil ahead. Fresh with the scent of peace and calmness, happiness, friendship, companionship, the world put away at a distance.

The tide chased our heels as we tried to walk on the packed sand. Past the birds spending hours playing in the waves at night. We walked past candle lit couples lost in each other's shadowy gaze, through long spaces of beach absent of humans in a city crowded. Our hands held tight together, sheltered in her jacket pocket because of the cold so-cal November night. We were as I suspect we long ago should have been.

Go to the library

this weekend has been terribly long. I've discovered a few things though.

I need a real bed, off of the ground. I hit my face on the wall in the middle of the night, I dont ever want to wake up like that again, wondering if i broke my nose....

The future is dependent on my present actions.

You cannot save anyone from themselves.

I cannot be a martyr to my own hopeless romantic tendencies.

Some people can never be helped, because they cannot help themselves. I walk past the same woman that sits on the corner of whitley and hollywood week after week; but this time, someone had given her a pillow, which she decided to let lay by her feet, while her head rested flat on a thin towel covering the pavement..

People use music as an excuse to let their brain turn to useless putty. I've been going to MI long enough to assess the overwhelming number of students with personality conflicts left unattended, subsequently polluting their every interaction. Their speech is meaningless, relationships skin deep, and perception of the world limited to something found on Sesame Street. They can name all of Metallicas albums without blinking, but ask them to name the last five presidents, the three branches of government, the role of the U.N., NATO, NAFTA treaty, for God's sake the current PM of Britain, Russia, the top three religions internationally, the concept of a greek tragedy, comedy. Western Literature, Eastern Cultures... it goes on and on. I grow tired of the shallowness, because it sucks me dry after awhile as well.


Music is stimulation, but so is knowledge, community, introspection, and any other form of expression and communication. There are no excuses anymore for a lack of knowledge or understanding. How can you hope to play infront of thousands of people if you do not have the slightest hint of how to speak privately with friends and strangers alike, let alone on a public stage.

You can't jump into a pool and not get wet. In the same mindset, you cannot wield the arts, and all that they stand for, without the will and the mind and the responsibility required to make it timeless and universal. People look to celebrities for answers, because in the spotlight should be someone greater than what they may find in themselves, but it remains untrue all too often anymore.

there, I'm done complaining.

goodnight.

words

I spent a little too long recording last night. How do I know? because my studio headphones overheated and started shocking my ears, and I couldn't read the midi keypad as I programmed a bass line into my song.
It's been a very long time since I've written anything really worth a damn. So long so that I had forgotten what it was to really start creating something that brings joy into my life.

Joy, that word so shrouded and elusive.

Apathy, an act of inaction that has paralyzed my entire life for a very long time. I've come to find that the answers do not find themselves and that the heavens don't rent open anymore raining angels and relief.

I had a talk with my youngest sister, who is 28. A talk I will carry long in my heart.

When your friends fade away, as I've come to find a natural progression of life, your family is still there. The bonds are strong, even if you are only half related. My sister is sharply perceptive of the human mind, intent, hesitation, desire, she has the ability to see through it all to the more absolute end. My oldest brother is much the same way, but as I've come to find, we are more like each other in nature, even though we grew up 11 years and hundreds of miles apart. My middle sister is nurturing, caring and loving and more relational to my heart. They are each a shining emblem of our mother who possesses all these things. They have shown me the truer meaning of love because they practice it with great precision. For all of our spectacular failures, we are successful.

My other siblings, from my father, i do not know as well. My oldest sister I hardly know, but to me she is a pillar, a fighter, strength against what the worst in this world can serve to any one person. Sadly my other two brothers I have not spoken with in more years than I can really remember. It goes both ways in communication though.

Family, a difficult road we traversed for almost two decades. But in the end of all these things that should not be, we are blessed with wisdom, with knowledge, education, love, support, and 9 beautiful nieces and nephews.

This word "love". We need a better word, more words to describe the different connotations. Or perhaps if we all strived toward the more true meaning of it that we all deep inside understand, a new word would not be necessary.

And that is the love that I am working towards. Beyond the realm of bitter tears, beyond the world of fairy tales, that which is beyond my consideration of it at this present time.

What is falling in love? On the eve of a painful anniversary I begin to see the shallowness of my life in trying to understand that question. I've been away from myself for as long as that day, I dont remember what day it was this last september, but I came back to my better self, and with it so have the blessings.

Some call it running, searching. others, an identity crisis, confusion, falling from grace. But someone has shown me how none of that matters, refusing to judge by the reaction to circumstance, but rather by the heart and the truer nature, the final outcome. What she would call it, I'm not so sure.

"I've been a mess since we've known each other. You've cared for me through the lowest point in my life, the one consistent thing I had when my life and heart was falling into oblivion. I havent been able to see a good thing sitting right before me all this time...
I just can't believe you've been this patient with me
I mean, what almost 2 years now?"

--i guess some things are worth waiting for---


Certainly my path has been one twist after another, but I've come to see them all as blessing, and all my fault, all to bring a better end through much trial. I can't confess that I have been patient, more like the screaming kid in the backseat of the car on the way to the surgery ward.

So to those who have lost themselves, their ideals, and much of what they once knew and thought they loved, you certainly are not alone. The space of planets cannot keep you absent for long, the sun still comes up in the east, the air is still fresh upon the breeze, and sooner or later you'll find your way back to yourself.

Maybe not this september, or the next, but what is the point in faith if we never use it?

Moving in a year

So, since I am taking the weekend away from playing because of a flare up of tendonitis, I have sat down most of today trying to figure out where to go in about 10 and a half months from now when I am done with MI. Literally, I will be able to move anywhere in the world, and that's kind of a daunting task. I've narrowed it down to 4 cities and want some input...

Los Angeles

London

Nashville

New York City

Currently I am leaning toward Nashville, but some of the best Universities are in New York. I'm quasi settled into Los Angeles, and London would be an amazing chance to start a whole new life, with millions of people I've never met. Comments pa lease!

Nights at Boardners

I lost myself in Hollywood last night. I believe now, that It is impossible to live here and not in some way become assimilated to the culture. I swore I wouldnt go out on Halloween, that I would stay indoors, but now that the hangover has subsided I am kind of glad that I did. It was truely a spectacular sight. Literally thousands of people on Hollywood Boulevard. Like a busy afternoon on 5th avenue in New York during christmas season. The brazen display of sexuality doesnt even bother me anymore, sluts, all of them, showing their true colors as their ass hangs out from the short skirts of their outfits. The men shallow and simple, long forgetting their full potential.

My roommates and I went out just to see the mass, the herd of party animals cleverly disguising their confessions of immorality and failures in the fabric of costumes. But, as always, no matte the occasion, we end up at our favorite pub, Boardners. I think I go there because everytime it ends up being some twisted story that makes me feel as though I'm living a seinfeld sitcom, or even more like "how I met your mother." The only place in hollywood most of the first time visitors miss, and the cheapest drinks any time of the week.

Oh I guess I behaved myself. Really, as I meet random people from all over the U.S. and we sing eighties classics at the top of our lungs, standing outside getting some air, I always feel this overwhelming sense that I'm not here for some one night stand, some random play in a dark parking lot, a drink too many that leaves might leave me hanging over the toilet most of the night and next morning. No, there is something deeply interesting in the people I meet, their stories, what it is that brought them to that bar that night, and what makes them act the way they do. A few hours away from MI, away from my guitar, away from the apartment.

It's tough to understand why people act the way they do when their 4 or 5 drinks in and many more to go. Why it is that even if I've had too much I rarely act out or make an idiot of myself. When your the only one in the room still in control of your emotions, your step, your speech, you see the human world almost through a kaleidescope. At times disgusting yes, but other times deeply intriguing and yet somehow, I see that even though my new found "friends" have no confession of faith, the fingerprint of the Almighty is still upon them, though they cannot see it in the mirror.

Somehow in the midst of all the partying, it only took a few hours with a few people to begin to restore my hope in the better goodness of people. Realizing that the goodness comes not from them, but because it is written somewhere on their heart and will not be silenced.

I need a break from today

I wanted to walk out of class today, shed my responsibilities and drive down to the beach for the day. But then I remembered how that a day away from school means 2 days catching up, and my car sits in a driveway at my sisters house, 3 time zones away. 

Holloween is coming up this Friday. It's been one non stop party here in Hollywood since this last Saturday. I'll be glad when the debauchery is over. Between the medicines and the partiers, I haven't slept through the night in over a week. Maybe I've missed the point of all the revelry, or maybe I learned all too quickly about the slow but debilitating effects of a lifestyle more focused on not being focused, because I can't be apart of all this. I am completely in the wrong city. 

This isnt the place that values integrity, consistency, persistence. They call it the city of broken hearts and broken dreams, but when i talk to those with the dreams swinging their heart, they are on their way to a night of drunkin and drugged insanity. They'll sleep half the next day, and when the call comes again, they are getting dressed to go out again... maybe they'll hit the audition next week. Department of Redundancy Department. 

So I stay inside, and eat my dinners on the rooftop, observing the steel high rises being built, the sirens, the shouts from the street; I go to school for 10 hours and do my work, and when I walk home, I fight with myself on whether I should look up and observe the world, or stare at the sidewalk so I disappear from all the preying fools.

I would like a short vacation I think. 

Be known for your love.

As I sit here in the Library again, contemplating what to write in this box, I have to laugh at how easily I will write just about anything.  There have been some interesting developments in my life the last few weeks, but nothing is in any way certain. I will spare details for the sake of someone else. So, for what I was going to write, I am going to leave blank, because unless you really care, it makes no difference. 

"                                                                                 

     

                                                                                           ."

Yesterday I played too much without taking time for breaks and appropriate stretching, resulting in a a very fatigued right forearm. Fortunately the pain is gone today, but I've not been able to play for fear of causing something more permanent or destructive. I am back into the habit of listening to Dream Theater again, and am now actually able to play the damn songs, which makes it 100x better and more fun. A couple hours of that yesterday did me in.

I went to church for the morning service today. A first in a very long time. A baptist church in hollywood, with less than 60 people in attendance. There was little that was reminiscent of the baptist churches I attended in WV. Even though this church is a member of a more conservative circuit of churches, they understand the value of loving people, sound doctrine, and worrying little about the rest. 

"Be known for your love." 

A sentence said quickly, but still resounds in my head and my heart today as the evening settles in. 

Thrive

it is not merely survival that gets one through life. Survival is giving into mediocrity. Survival is a statement of the fear of death, but also the same fear aimed in the direction of ever doing something greater and better.

 Living in LA, especially downtown Hollywood, has been exceptionally difficult to adjust to. More times than I can count I've seriously thought about packing up and jetting back home. But then I think of all the people I've grown up with, who have not done much with their lives, nor aspire to. An employer who told me I would not be able to pay the bills playing music. I think of the life I would have settled into had I not chosen singleness. Unfulfilled and immature, closed minded and boredom would be my attributes on display. I never want to look in the mirror and see dreams smoldering, turning to cold ash, because I was afraid, I was unable. I have seen it many times before in others. Eyes heavy with the guilt of bad choice. Then I remember what it is that I am doing, and what I am after. 

I have to laugh at myself as I think of a past life that offered me almost nothing of intrinsic value, and yet I am running to a future as elusive smoke from a fire. 

You must learn to thrive on the journey toward your end goal. When your friends fall silent, communities disappear on horizons, when only foreign lights guide you along the streets at night, realize you and you alone make your decisions, the responsibility is yours. Influenced by anyone else, and you could be fooling yourself. Settling for a moment means possible failure. 

Dont for live your life in doubt, at least you will have tried. 

hands, they hurt

I played about 7 hours today, if i hadnt had to do my laundry, it would have been closer to 8 and a half. *pats self on back* 

practice your instruments, or i will frown at you. 

thought of the day

*_________________* it just left me.

Politics and God

I try to stay out of politics on the blagosphere, as often it is an outlet for endless belligerent debate; making clowns from all sides of the political field. Left, Right, center, undecided, apathetic, it is an endless argument.

Instead of choosing sides, I'd rather point out, for a few minutes of your time, that maybe our lives outside of Washington are at fault, and it is trickling into every aspect of our existence. Growing up in Christian ed, there were many ideologies thrown down as truth, as indisputable evidence that our way of life was not only divinely appointed, but in no way consisting of fault. Fortunately, History is both a looking glass, and a mirror for which to inspect ourselves. For so long I believed what my teachers and pastor told me, until I saw the other side of the mirror from which I had been staring at so long. I remember when my faith in these things cracked.

I was on vacation in the desert lands of northern Arizona, bordering Utah, and area known as "Monument Valley." You've seen it, in the third "Back, to the Future" movie. The desert scenes all take place there. On the other side of that valley lies the ultimate effect of a wonderful term we all know as "Manifest Destiny." A waste land, with little vegetation, scalding hot rocks, sand scratching the skin from the whipping strong winds. From what I recall, this was a patch of land, one of the few holes in the ground left to the Navajo people. They lived in plywood shanties, with no jobs, no future, only a bloody past. A beautiful people brought to ruination because it was God's Will for the white man to possess this entire continent. Now, they pile thick their shattered bottles of alcohol. Their cattle, if that is what they are, were no bigger than large dogs, and were discolored, green tinted, frail. When I witnessed, not only there, but all across the state, these desolate lands, these sovereign territories of the Natives, something broke within. I could no longer believe that a loving savior had done this to these people who did nothing to deserve the disease and war that fell upon them not so long ago. When my history teacher brought this subject up the following school year, this asinine assumption of my races' dominance, I told this same story, without flinching, without a second thought, asking how can you claim christ and this doctrine? only to be answered by silence and a dumbfounded silent gaze.

How do you go your whole life believing this horse shit?

Capitalism does not reflect the teaching of Christ. For a religion that longs so dearly to control the majority of a democracy, it is perplexing to think that its members would yield this model that goes against the very nature, actions of its Messiah. We all can reasonably notice on our own that the wealth, the means to a greater good, only floats to the top. The rich become richer, the poor, they are left to carry on with their poverty, just as imperialism, aristocracy, monarchy. The middle class is the scape goat for all the excess and all the vapid caverns. The wealth doesnt trickle down, no one in their right, greedy mind, makes over 500k and seeks to give most of it away, to settle for a modest life, so that others may live in modesty, instead of sickness, hunger, and depravity, lack of education.

Christ calls his followers, if you interpret as strictly as other passages, to sell your wealth, give it away and bless the poor, to take up a cross and follow the same as himself. I'm so sick of hearing my fellow Americans who claim christianity ignorantly speaking fear of socialism. If you really wished to run a government that reflects the attitude and character of God, you cannot allow the poor to suffer at the table of the rich.

Socialism is not facism, it is not communism.

Things are not as they seem. The history of this "Christian" nation are tainted with innocent blood, ill doctrine, deciet, greed. Politics will not solve it, economy will not solve it, greed can never satisfy, war can never be fully justified, dominance in a global community cannot be tolerated, and I fear that it will not be much longer before we learn the very hard way at the hands of nations that seek for peace, just as we claim to.

The christian mainstream has been seriously derailed from any common sense, sooner or later you have to understand it. Or maybe you don't. I interact daily with people that think my faith is a joke, that there is nothing legitimate about Christ, his teachings, his followers. So while Christians are taking the candy coated bait, I'm left speechless, apologetically begging unbelievers not to look to the mistakes of so many.

For God's sake, and the sake of all He has done for us, use the mind he gave you.

Homeless

I do not know that I will ever recover from what I have seen and experienced here in Hollywood. I see the homeless talking to themselves. Talking to the ghosts no one else can hear or see. Ghosts that they themselves have become. I watch them day in and day out fall apart, slowly dieing from listless gaze, broken limbs, diseases that keep them warm, eat them alive.
And I wonder, should I help any of them, where does it begin? I tried once, and was refused. I offered food, a dish full of the very things essential to living, and like a broken record "no, no, no...." I cannot pity them, I fear them, because I fear myself, wondering how long it is before something snaps me into a psychosis, stuck like a record, unable to move from one thought and action to the next. Jokingly I could say its happened before, but not to such desperation.

It's easier to have a shouting match with God from the roof tops of the buildings here in Hollywood. And maybe that is where it starts. At times I just want to shout until my voice dries up, hoping for one little reply, one hint of proof that this life isnt just a guessing game. That there is some rhyme or reason as to what happened to the lot of us. It's easier up there because there are no walls to hear my prayers echo back at me, no whispering reminder that nothing comes as planned, and no voice will rent the air and speak marvelous things. Outside, the skies absorb the utterances. Prayers hit walls far away and fall into the ears of the mad, those passing by, walking their dog, running to self abuse, and so it all continues.

The same actions the insane engage in, I find myself hinting at, thinking my reasons are oriented toward the Divine, that what I do is reaction to a Divine and real causality. And perhaps the ghosts that walk the streets do to, but give different names; a penance so dire it will have their physical life soon, already robbed of peace and sound thought. Something about the wondering gets to you after so long, too long by yourself. Some find it odd when they see people talking to themselves; it can be weird, but the real alarm comes when you start answering yourself.

Maybe we're all nuts, and it's only a matter of time.

TImididimidity

Today has been a day of retrieval. Regaining lost ground. Eventually the past has to die. No one is ever born a bitter person in nature, it merely becomes a part of your life. And just as so, it can be wiped away.

It was drive, it was motivation, it was an unabashed admittance of what I really wanted that drove me out to MI. For the longest time, well, the six months I've been here, I have been struggling to remember what rationality I had in my quest in coming to MI. I have discovered again today what it was. It was not rational, it wasnt something planned, it was not method, process, deduction, induction. It was point, pretend like I'm aiming, and shoot.

While at the CMC I experienced dedication, motivation, the drive to accomplish much. An environment where I was not allowed to be timid, something I have once again assumed. During my vocal lesson yesterday, my Teacher, who all lovingly call "Mama O" pointed out that I am timid in my voice, in manner of singing, and that my talking is very relaxed, something that must be changed. The more I thought about it, the more that I realized that not only was my voice timid, but so is my life, One of the many things that has made adjustment to this new life so difficult these many months. It will take many weeks of exercise and stretching of the voice and the muscles of the throat to allow them to open and allow their full strength to resonate.
As I hurried through my first sets of Live Performance Workshops, I remembered what it was that brought me there to that moment. I once again found the thrill of performance, the joy, the fun. I played a country song, and later learned to line dance. At the Reggae performance, I learned the song within five minutes, and was on stage a half hour later playing it. Since monday I have been at school for more than 29 hours, I have three more performances at the school this week, one is optional but highly encouraged. I will have a total of 6 performances, and 7 songs next week, with 8 more weeks to go after that. I have no choice but to be motivated at this point, and strangely it feels natural, it feels like something I have missed for a very long time. Learning at a frightening pace, playing until my fingers and arms ache, pushing myself harder and harder. This is just the distraction I need.

It is good to have this back, to be focused and persistent to something that could put my life in the realm of success in music, something that is long overdue. Too long have I tried to remain unassuming, quiet, patient.

I came here to kick ass and take names.

Hallucinating Today

I should be practicing, or eating or just about anything else right now. Some days I wonder if I am only merely hallucinating this act of living out my life: feeling at times like I'm awake in some dream land. Because everything seems normal, yet hazy; but nothing is perceived as good or bad. As swirl down the streets and through rooms and doors of some quasi surreal state of mind.
not even 4 cups of coffee could jar this feeling today, and as the afternoon wears on, I feel as though I am only slowly wearing the dream off.

The other morning I dreamed I held close, someone I care for deeply. It was the early hour, the one where gray is the color of all things. Rested against me, slumbering in peace, we were content. But It was the same moment I realized I was coming to consciousness, that my happiest state was only passing, and in a few seconds it would be gone. I cried out for the day not to take my dream. Terrible and crushing was the punishment I took for believing for that for that moment my dream was a reality. Breathless and angry and still partly asleep, I cursed the dawn for taking my phantom. Whispered shouts of hatred for nothing that is mine. "We live as we dream, alone. "

Somewhere Past

Today, I appreciate 50 cent refills on starbucks coffee, and finding out I still have enough for two more on my starbucks card. Today, I appreciate the stillness of my heart and mind. Today, I got a phone call from a friend that really lifted me up, and got me reoriented for what lies ahead, and what lays silent behind. Today, a little girl, resting on her grandmothers shoulder gave me a curious wave, and blew a kiss. Today, was saturday, like all the other saturdays.  

Tonight, a year ago, I was coming home from work covered in grease and apathy and despair. Today is still fresh and full of life, cold winds and glimpses of an autumn somewhere east, somewhere past. 

Elevator Chatter

Tonight, as I decsended from the rooftop I uttered something I never thought I would say. This morning, as the day broke, I did not want to be around for it, so I slept another hour until 8 am; reluctantly I arose to greet a day that had started without me, and would run me tired and ragged by sundown.

I spent seven hours at the school, even though I only needed to be there for an hour. I practiced, changed my strings, chatted with my former private instructor, then jammed over a II V(altered) progression. About twelve I went home for lunch and to watch about forty five minutes of a movie called "se7en". I had a quick fix lunch of rice and mixed vegetable and beef, deliciously prepared by Sara from the night before. At two, I went to my country guitar class, and performed a series of butchered country style solos using pentatonic theory. After getting my ass whooped, I went back to Jeffs room, told him how country class owned me, upon which Jeff went on a rampage of sick country riffs, bends, pedal tones, chords, and scales. Years of playing country professionally came pouring out for the better part of an hour and a half. about 4:30 I took a break for about thirty minutes, then went back to practicing for another hour and a half.

Week One is down and out. I am 9 weeks from ending this quarter, 21 weeks from completing level II GIT, 45 weeks from finishing my AA, and going on to God knows what and where and for how long. Like I said previously, Time is irrelevant. Seems my hypocrisy knows no bounds.

Sara came over last night. I almost feel embarrassed for how bare our new apartment is. How minimal I am living. At the same time it was humorous to watch her try and cook with only a few dishes, her initial reaction to this apartment being "definitely a boys place."
As if to obviate the fact that we're both swamped with work, we spent a good part of the evening on the porch working on school stuff. Sara working on 3 papers at once, and me, murdering the country song I barely made through today in class, and running over scales with Peter.

Only Divine irony would keep me here on the west coast a year from now, and perhaps I have yet to learn to laugh at God's humor.

When I got home this evening I fell into my bed, feeling physically spent and only able to get up because of the late evening coffee I grabbed before the last 45 minutes of practice. I cooked another pot of rice, attempting to eat the last of the left overs from last night. As I sat on the porch, staring at the other side of the building, I remembered I have rooftop access, and decided to have dinner with the night lights of Lost Angeles.
I've forgotten how astounding major cities are on clear nights, with clear skies, a bright moon and cool winds. I remember NYC was much the same way when living with my brother and his wife for a few days in January. I could see almost the entire LA basin tonight, all of downtown, all of westwood, hollywood, the hills, and all the residential areas lying south of here. Probably one of the better dinner experiences I've had since I've been here. Yet again, by myself.

After finishing the bowl, I headed back downstairs. Somehow a group of people who were trying to get down to the ground level, ended up ascending 3 floors up to the roof, where I was waiting, empty bowl and cup in hand, to get back down to the second floor. On the way down, the one of the guys in the midst of the small crowd asked "How was dinner on the roof?" And with out even thinking twice, without realizing the full implications of what I was going to utter; without understanding the personal blasphemy I was engaging in, I spoke only one word with a sigh and a gaze to nowhere.









"Beautiful"

6:30 am comes too soon

Monday, I woke up at 7:15. On Tuesday, 7:00. This morning...6:30. Not just slowly waking up, I mean, my eyes fling wide open, as if to greet a sunrise on my ceiling. At 8 am on Hollywood BLVD, the world is still asleep. I like the desolation a little bit, a nice reprieve from the hustle to take over in about 3 hours. On my way to Starbucks, I met a woman who works in the payroll department at school. She almost got hit in the crosswalk by a speeding SUV, probably late for work. I'm glad she did not get hit, as she was the first person on the street to say good morning to me since I've been out here. It's easy to forget the simple pleasures of common courtesy when your trying to block out the chaos to and from school. 

  I have one more class to go, and have already been playing for 2 hours today on top of the 3 hours of classes this morning/afternoon. I was going to see about joining a band here in LA, but with the intensity that this quarter has shown in the first 3 days, I believe I will have to forgo the opportunity and concentrate my time and efforts to my school work. I do find it encouraging in my day to day to remember, that while most people are studying gen eds, and degree courses that have no implications to daily life, I sit in my classes with an instrument and play rock n roll all day long. That everything I learn has an effect toward a career, and every hour of practice could mean the ultimate gig or ultimate mediocrity, striving toward the first. 

Singleness haunts me, as constant as the ringing in my ears. In a school filled with mostly guys, the few women you do pass daily are a torture. Beautiful, young, artistic, making it impossible to concentrate in some classes or walk a straight line in the hallways. Relationships might be a bad thing at this point, but I don't care anymore. Two years is too long, and my age is beginning to dictate whether I'm in the kiddie pool or in the deep end and drowning....

A combination of common situations

I have been back in L.A. for four whole days now. In that time I have settled into the new apartment, started school, and really rather enjoyed my time. It's sad and yet relieving to know that so many things have to die before a new life can be formed. It seems in so many ways, by moving out to the west coast, I was running away from a lot of things I did not understand. Not understanding by means of concentrating so singularly on one goal and task, I forgot to see the whole picture, to take care of certain aspects of my life that were falling apart, or soon to fall apart. 

When I visited Cedarville, Something shifted. All the things that had occurred since the November of 2006 had been given as new clarity to me. Somewhere between the death and resurrection of my heart is where I stood that evening as I sat by the lake, pondering why it is that I was in such a hurry to leave. In the proceeding days, the things I had seen and felt would come together, to put the past behind and see that the future is all I have to hold. It all played into how it is that I have no real complaints about living in Hollywood anymore. Well, that might be a little ambitious. I suppose it is more realistic to state that I am tired of complaining about this messed up place. It's simple really: I moved here, I live here, and soon enough I will leave, I might as well learn to enjoy it. 

The pace of the new quarter here at MI is much more intense than I anticipated. 2 days in and I wonder if I am falling behind. Good news though, there are two CMC alums now living in Hollywood. Marc is attending MI GIT, and Brandon, well, I dunno what exactly he's here for, but the more the merrier. I haven't met up with them yet, I should probably change that soon, seeing as we live in the same town, go to the same school and all. Once you get used to Hollywood, you realize that it isn't a very big town, that only a few thousand people actually live here and are actively out and about in the community. 

I've discovered I am getting good with relationship suicide. I can't be the one to call everyone just for a few minutes of time with their voice mail. It's incredibly true how that you cannot make anyone a priority that has no priority set aside for you. I've tried and tried with so many different people from all the different places I have been, and found the same thing time and time again. It use to really bother me, until I realized I have learned to do the same thing to people I know as well. I don't know where I am getting at with this, maybe I'm sorry? maybe I'm just getting revenge for feeling like I am only a victim. Nobody likes a man who only knows how to be victim. 

I am still without Internet at the apartment. If anyone knows any wireless cracking system for macbook that are compatible with Airport, please let me know, I am really tired of fruitlessly guessing at wireless passwords, and really bored at night when I am done practicing. 

Uncle things, round 9

the picture above, the baby is "yawning." I mean, really, thats too damn cute...killer
....and a foot....
and a profile shot


So, according to my count, this is the ninth addition to my family from my siblings. I hate being on the other side of the country while the baby is growing, being away from family at an important time in their lives. I think, according to the due date, I wont be around, that sucks. I am more to an age where I have a greater appreciation for these events, and I am at such a terrible distance.

I am excited for them though, as is our family.

grey plaid hats are the sh*t

So ya, I got a new hat today. Kohls had a huge sale on all of their stock, and so I bought some new pants, a light jacket and a some light long sleeve shirts. The nights in California can be a little chilly, and as we march toward "fall and winter" I decided to not fall short on clothing.
I spent most of the day with my dad, which is kind of weird, but good, as we do not communicate very clearly and easily with one another. Today was the exception and was quite enjoyable.



In the face of the looming credit crisis, I am becoming increasingly worried that I wont have the loans I will need to attend school at MTSU in a year from now. My parents support ends in a year too, so if things dont right side up soon, I might be reserved to scratching a living out of music, which I am still very unsure of how to go about. As much as I hate the economic rescue bill (H.R. 1424... I think), It is probably the only thing that will allow me to pursue future degrees in philosophy, english, and or law. So, once again, I find myself conflicted that I need something I hate so very much.

Today was the only real Autumn I am going to get to experience this year. It was cold today, highs in the 50's. The leaves are turning colors quickly. My dad pointed out a maple that was turning a fiery red. I packed away my journals from the last 8 months, a collection of 12 yellow legal notepads. I was going to read through them, but it would take far too long than I am willing to deal with, and I think some of the issues are too fresh and unhealed to go in and rehash. I guess we all need a little hibernation every now and then.

I leave in the morning for Los Angeles, and with an open heart and mind I hope to find the best things that I can. I long for it to last, I really do. For six months I have been living something that so many have seen as "incredible" "awesome" "opportunity", but have had little success in finding those things out. Perhaps they stand right in front of me daily.

Favorites of today:
Anberlins album "New Surrender"
Cold mornings
Rose wine
My Father

Trains over bridges

Today I traveled back from my sisters house in Morgantown, WV. I am happy to see her family doing well, after many years of trials. The drive back took an hour longer than I expected and I almost ran out of gas at one point, kept me on my toes.
It surprises me everyonce in a while how many bridges there are in PA and OH. Some of them I always see cars going over, some, no matter how many times I pass under, I never see any traffic. I saw a train going over one overpass today, I want to chase it, follow the train, because it seems to know where it is headed, guided on 2 tracks and nowhere to really go.
I wrote another song this afternoon, one I am fairly happy with.
The VP debate is tonight, and honestly, I hope Palin shows her true colors, because she truely is one 72 year old heart beat away from the presidency.
That is about my day, 3 1/2 hours driving, 2 hours writing a song, 1 hour practicing speed and rhythm, dinner, grocery store run, and watching the debate. woot.
36 hours from now I will be heading down to Columbus to fly back to Los Angeles. Here's to hoping for the best.

I should do this more often

I forget who it was, but someone I know recently said I should blog everyday, keep some more records of my time away from the east coast and those I once knew. Sadly, that time will keep going, never to return to its start. After a while, those "people I once knew" will always be just so, we were "once" at one time. In someways I hope not, but if I am to keep forward, it will be so. I am not resigned to living local for ever. It crashed a relationship, and drove me to both ends of the states. But I hope that I can, I do not know that I, we, are made to keep going through life drifting from one town to the next in search of hopes and dreams, without ever figuring out who I/we are, and what it is we are all after.

What I am trying to say in a round about way is that I want to settle down. I hope that this next year in Los Angeles is a time of happiness and relative emotional ease. School has been my only perk while living in downtown Hollywood, and seeing friends like Sara and Kelsey, and having roommates like johnny and peter. everything else has been one continuous trial, and I want some peace from it. I feel like I've been traumatized, almost scared into every trying to adapt to a new life again. But in a year I am going to have to move again.

Ohio would be my first option. Familiar is why. I know the roads, the weather, the people, the culture. It is, in a generic sense, home. My parents live south of Cleveland in a well to do town, my extended family is scattered all over the greater Columbus area. But I cannot stay there. I know how I will become bored, how that I will only aggravate the norms here, as I cannot stand to accept the acceptable.

At this point, the Nashville area has become my desire. I've been down there twice, and both times have thoroughly enjoyed the town, the atmosphere, the view, even the bloody hot weather.
I am planning to attend MTSU, and finish a four year degree in something relating to philosophy and English. Music and art are an undying appreciation, and given a chance to further explore them and make monetary gain, I will not hesitate to jump on, but I do not strive to be a starving artist. I want to settle in somewhere, maybe not permanently, that's acceptable, I've never lived anywhere for more than 6 years, but somewhere semi permanent. I am tired of living somewhere just long enough to tolerate it, and then leave. I want to give my children a chance to have stability, to enjoy for awhile long binds of friendships and family, and when they're ready, to go out into the world as I have done, and find out who they are without their peers, without any guide but their conscience. Whether they come back is their decision and their good right, as has been mine.


"Meet me in Tennessee."

Life still goes on

For far too long the chase has been all that I know. Both in relationships, and in life in general. Seeing the world was a nice thought at one time, it is enchanting, when the view of the whole world lies at your finger tips. When impetuous youth grips your will, you have no clarity, no real direction, yet youth is what makes it impossible to see otherwise. Yet I do not, in any way, regret the choices that I have made in regards to the directions I have taken. You will not find me apologizing for the person I have become, the things that I have done. Most of it requires no apology, and other things are merely a lesson learned, progression on a path to virtue and wisdom. I would regret a continual habit of rebellion and sin, a hardness of heart, and with several of those things along the way, those are what sadden me.

So what have I learned in this time while living in Hollywood? I could go on and on about the depravity of mankind, but I am so tired of that, it haunts me constantly, I'd rather present something more useful.

I suppose one constant idea that runs in and out of everything I have discovered about the world, mankind, divinity, myself, is the influence of time. Time being the generic quality of the space within which life takes place. How that nothing is set to occur. Neither as we "will" it, and more often I wonder if in many cases, God has a specific time for all things. I must be brief and generic, I do not fully understand it myself.

My brother, for years, has made clear that the years eventually mean nothing. That life continues on, and things happen along the way, whether its five years, or ten, or never. We all have our entire lives to live, however long it may be allotted to us.
I never understood it, I thought he was nuts, that all those years in the laboratories and lecture halls had messed up his head a little.
But he was right, and thankfully, I realized it sooner than later. Natasha said the same things once, I think once she said it, I began to think through it a little more, until the last few months when it clicked in my heart and mind. Time it seems, is as bankrupt like wall street has become, a false inflation of value, speculation that I had made a false image out of. Time is irrelevant, and once that is understood, so many more issues that bother me lose their severity, lose their pertinence, their blinding unimportance.

Worries of time, bring worries of career, of friends, of love relationships, of home. All of these things are subjective, there is no "will" behind them, no Divine timing, it just is. I understand this sounds blasphemous, but you have be reasonable, you have to stop worshiping a book, and worship the Author. Subjective, yes, I've learned not to be close minded to any opportunity. The worst situations, from freezing on the streets of Boston, to baking in the heat of southern california while trying to find a doctor, have occasioned the most divinely arranged things happen.

They happened, without a stopwatch, just happened, and I'm thankful for whenever it happened.

Perhaps I only sound like I speak in gibberish, but I hope we all speak in tongues one day.

I've been home for over a week now, and I am thoroughly enjoying this thing called peace, and boredom, birds singing, and chipmunks "chipping" away all day long. Tonight I realized that wine glasses are only around to make us feel better about drinking, because honestly, some nights, I would drink myself under the table if I had no measurement. We all want the whole bottle, the blushing smile, the ability to say and think the things we hide all day. But not the headache, not the fatigue, and not the damage done to the liver. I think our longings for life are the same. We want only the good, only the wealth, the peace, not understanding the balance to the equations of all of our actions.

I've learned this also. that life starts today, with every moment. There is no current waiting period. Today is not the worst, and it is not the best, it simply "is". While living in Cleveland I thought it was a waiting period before getting to MI. Then about 4 months in to school here, I realized I couldn't wait to be out of Los Angeles. That I had come to think of it as a period away from the rest of my life, just as I had thought of my time in Cleveland. This single thought pattern has been the greatest inhibitor to me living the better life I know I can. I should have known that so long ago, when an old friend, whom i've not heard from in a while, and perhaps for the best, sent me this in a message:

oh dan, things are weird ... now we all have to go back to such different lives. Still, I hope you are staying positive knowing full well that there is a season for everything ... and sometimes the best ones are the least likely. I pray that for you. That this summer and next year aren't just an "in between" stage, but that they bring you closer to the Lord and closer to who Dan Scarberry is supposed to be.

Taking small pieces of advice could save your life, I wish I would have listened.
Wishes to the wind, I have to learn, and I hope the readers learn as well.

I've learned that most friendships are temporary. Don't take friendship personal. At least it is so with me, and perhaps with those of us who can never settle, whose very own impulses run the will. Scattered like the wind, knowing many, but known by few. I have been blessed by less than a handful of people who have kept close along the way. It was hard to accept that it could not be so with everyone that I have known. I dont know why I believed that all friendships can be kept fresh, fresh and unaffected by distance and differing life paths. It simply is not doable. I guess, I can not be sad about it, only happy that I have been blessed a long the path of my life.

Providence is fresh upon the breeze, I have not been abandoned.
In 6 days I will have to return to Los Angeles, more specifically, Hollywood. A place I have for many months loathed and despised. It's not difficult to utterly hate a town that smells like human decay and piss, a town run by a bunch of immigrants who can not spit 5 words of English, a city severely overcrowded and overpriced. Busy to the highest degree, re inventing the world at a destructive pace. It is easy to hate something that is superficial, drunk, corrupt, rotting, and winning the world.
You can be as righteous as you wish and will, and still you will lose everything, triumph is not a virtue, it is not a result to be had by someone seeking the most good. I think Solomon would agree.
Yet I want to love this town, i dont know how or when or why. I dont want to be sucked down into the mindless game of sexual conquest, pervasive drug use, hustling, gambling, pretending I am some rock star waiting an elusive break in a failing music industry, and stupid entertainment business.
The place I find myself is one of acceptance, if I do not accept things for how they have become, i will fall for one last time, and I will not get up.
So that is perhaps the greater lesson, accept and perceive, and do not ignore your natural inclination, eventually you will get it right.

I think Ben Gibbard nailed it to the ground in this Death Cab song.

Burn it down till the embers smoke on the ground
And start new when your heart is an empty room
With walls of the deepest blue

Home's face: how it ages when you're away
Spring blooms and you find the love that's true
But you don't know what now to do
Cause the chase is all you know
And she stopped running months ago

And all you see is where else you could be When you're at home
And out on the street Are so many possibilities to not be alone

The flames and smoke climbed out of every window
And disappeared with everything that you held dear
But you shed not a single tear for the things that you didn't need
Cause you knew you were finally free


Cause all you see is where else you could be, When you're at home
Out on the street are so many possibilities to not be alone
And all you see is where else you could be,
when you're at home,
There on the street,
are so many possibilities to not be alone
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Love is elusive, blinding, and beyond my reach for now. I've found the less I can think and worry about it, the better off I am. I am invisible to anyone that ever should have seen me, and life still goes on.

life still goes on.

Consequential Stewards

It is so beautiful and vast out here in the Southwest. Back East, everyone knows your name, knows your face, you've seen it all before. And each hill and valley is the same as the others, ages old and beckoning all to live among them and die as they die. Out here, everything is dead, the hills are barren, the trees and plants barely survive. And in that, the greatest sense of life becomes awakened within, because in the absence of things living, you realize that you possess a thousand worlds of life within. That all your ancestors toiled and brought you to this present moment at the cost of their life and livelihood. The point of realizing that you are very much alive, with will and intelligence, conscience and soul. You feel and you sense, perceive, and question and verify things whether truth or untruth.

The truth does not need you to agree with it. Our existence gives no validation to things that are true or untrue.

My life, my thoughts gravitate towards those things and yet it still remains that I am limited in my experience and knowledge of this life, with all of its mysteries, doubts, uncertainties, even the euphoria's of joy and happiness, peace and stillness, the orgasmic clenches of love. I want to know more, see more, experience and feel more. Some have said that great sorrow comes with such knowledge. I cannot imagine the sorrow Adam and Eve felt when they were made aware of their disobedience. The steady realization of all the damage that they had just created themselves. Was the first act of creation by the hand of a fallen human really a system of chaos? Interesting the promises they were given of what they could know. To have the wisdom held by angels and by God.. To shed the childish innocence that was their prize possession. But is that not human nature? To aspire to ascend states of being and awareness? To keep going forward, higher, left, right, under, backwards, only that we may know and accomplish more. It is only natural that they would be tempted in such ways. The knowledge of Good and Evil.

Yet if I were offered some incredible wisdom, some sight of the future, understanding of the heart, of the ages, I know i could not resist. I am a son of Adam, and just as vulnerable. I imagine that such great knowledge would drive me infinitely mad. as it has undoubtedly others. Incredible that we are still trying to figure out this knowledge of Good and Evil. That some would live their whole lives in fear of it. Center their religion around it. Suddenly I wonder "Is it our task to know and own such knowledge? Are we consequential stewards of that great disobedience? That great leap into the unknown that has given us such an insurmountable task. I speak as if we are all in search of it. It would seem ideal that the whole of the human race would labor, as a collective union, towards a deeper understanding of what we have unleashed within and without us. Unfortunately it is not so. Amazing to take such a hint from something so overlooked.

For far too long humanity has lived only in survival and not in pursuit of awakening the soul, to understanding what it really knows. Some societies have lifted the burden of the fall, have been afforded such luxury during their existence and birthed us the poets, the theologians, the psychologists, the great thinkers, play-writes and dedicated musicians necessary to spurn us onward and to build on their work. The act of creation is given room at such times and all the years and generations prior usher forth their quieted voices.

It seems in circles of society, certain people only seek for the knowledge of evil, the knowledge of fallen angels of spirits, wickedness, perversions and malice. Other circles are only in pursuit of peace and harmony, equality, perfection. Yet there is no balance. We live in the world of the knowledge of good and evil. We cannot exist with just one side, just as a car does not have two wheels to run on, it has four for balance. We are never whole with only the possession of one side of life. Without the understanding of good and evil, we cannot exist in a balanced harmony. Without understand the depth and destruction of evil, and the disillusionment of excessive tranquility.

And yet where does that leave salvation? Salvation to save us from our sins, yes. but to save us from what is already in motion, in existence, perhaps no. Granted, we are new creatures, but even in this new state, we are still victims to our own nature. It cannot be escaped, except through death. Salvation's fullest and final manifestation is on judgement day.that calls into question matters of eternal security and matters of our knowledge and responsibility after the day of restoration. Is it possible that we are saved from the knowledge of good and evil? I have long called into question the possibility of a second fall. I mean, why not? When it comes down to it, any human does not need the devil to sin. This concept of the "the devil's got me down" is complete poppycock. It's like believing that Santa comes down out of the north pole and visits the children of the world, in one night, with all the prior knowledge to bless them with presents. In no case has it ever been shown that the great satan is an omnipresent being. Our nature is such that we need know one to make us evil, it only comes naturally. These are the sins of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, the pride of life. Yet as evil as some can be, the great artists of ages past have shown the divine through all these countless and lost years. Those moments of divine interpretation of life is the hope that drives it seems.

Do we suddenly lose our knowledge of this good and evil upon Judgement day? We would have to be completely innocent again, what else would stop anyone of us from starting a whole cycle of sin over again? Yet, why would that happen then, why did not it happen in the garden, why cause the suffering of the trillions of humans over many millennia, when the vanquish of the enemy was readily at hand? Really, it does not make sense. Yes, grace is sufficient, but many have suffered, and suffer now because they never heard or could believe it. These are not doubts, these are legitimate questions that pass through my head, and I am sure, have passed in yours as well in some manner.

It is all too often easy to be hung on such questions as most likely cannot be answered, yet again, the truth is not contingent upon our belief, and if it is, there is something truly amiss

And now, here we are in this present time, awaiting the final acts of salvation, yet still burdened with this great knowledge that has long enslaved us. But shall we decry it? Hate it, call it human nature and then forsake it utterly? It cannot and should not be, especially with this age. We are the living genius of a thousand ages coming forth, the access to knowledge, the wealth of opportunity to just "be." And yet there is a sense of vapidness among the American people. Indeed the creative spirit is around and I have met many who see and sense a world outside of everything we can see. But what is causing such decline? Of any time, this should be the time of great creative force within the arts, and yet all too often great minds are forged into computers and out come more technological creations that only further to alienate the person from his soul.

All too often it easy to decry the greed and the selfishness that consumes the populace, but for generations now, that anthem has been played louder and louder, as the audience grows more and more deaf. No it is not merely a matter of greed and selfishness, but an abandonment of the true self. The hushing of the childhood wonder that is choked out at such an early time in life, the faith of a child is stolen away and in the vapid desolation surrounding its orphaning, the person forgets what it is to feel and to be. To forget what it is like to find a summer day as fresh and new a hundred times over, day after day.

This can only lead to the sins that consume us daily, that victimize us no matter how much we wince and wonder what we did to deserve calamity. It is the pursuit of everything else than the truth that is written on our hearts that has become our illness. It has silenced our voices, clouded our minds intoxicated our veins and pounds through our hearts. We talk and we talk, play the music constantly, say whatever comes to mind. We find our addictions and let them own us, we down the medications until our eyes glass over, because somewhere inside, we know that a true and long moment of silence will show us everything that we are not. It is a terrifying moment, to realize that nothing is really going on in your head and in your soul. but as much as it is destructive, It is the most liberating, allowing new life to form within, a life you could never have known existed. This is the soul, the very epicenter of human existence, the human experience.

But perhaps there are sins of complacency. Sins of settling for less than we are capable of. Yet it is almost instinctive to remain "safe." In accordance with the natural tendency to avoid unnecessary risk, we become content to live without any risk at all. Leading us to a troth of idle dullness. Our existence becomes meaningless, and so in a futile effort to drink of something deep we are apt to fill our lives with unnatural things, material things that have their place in the realm of our existence, but never to be our trophy, our "precious." How often must this be decried, how long must the poets and theologians announce this same truth again again and again. Even I, a simple student, see the stupidity in all these things.

I know the feeling of stubbornness, of a self created ignorance that at once dismisses any wisdom that could crack the glass dome that we suspect protects from all the unnamed evils that surround us daily. I guess it is the splitting of that sphere of ignorant protection that begins to rescue the soul from meaningless corruption. I write as if i have found salvation, maybe not so much salvation, but rescuing. The rescue of silence. Rescuing Silence. That moment of realization, when your soul finally comes to life and says to you "my God in heaven, there is nothing running through your mind." followed by the lament of all the years that this terrible thing has happening. or rather, the "not" happening is what is most dreadful. maybe i have exaggerated these feelings. But i know at least for myself that it is true. That without the silence i would never have heard the whispers that turned to screams and turmoil and eventually, a beautiful surrender to the true image of God that exists within. These things are what have become the most true. As blasphemous as this may seem, these life experiences speak to me with more power than the scriptures, at least in most cases. Such a feeling does not seek to diminish the work of the Spirit through the ages, but rather to expand upon it. That the Holy Spirit works among us individually, at His will and discretion.

I see it as wrong to ignore this awakening of the heart, of the mind, the soul, what ever you may call it. They are one and the same, many parts to make up a single existence. But having been given such a task as to adequately respond to this gift is what I wish others to have. We could all be so much more should we have a moment with this "rescuing silence."

What action must be taken to bring about some change? is it something that truly must be written and enacted by each person individually? It seems all to situational, subjective, disjointed. The factor of humanity remains too strong, as beautiful as it can be, we eventually corrupt in some manner. Some in horrible ways, others in more subtle ways, that over the years does far more damage to far more people. It is truly then, the work of something outside of ourselves. But then are we elected to such awakening. Is salvation more than only one action. Or is it merely learning the appropriate response and philosophy of the knowledge of good and evil? A curious thought indeed. I wonder if this essay will be brought up in the Heavenly Court as I am judged for all that has happened. Is this blasphemy? is it preposterous? lunacy? truth? The birth of a thousand new ignorant presupposition. Well, i suppose, let it be none of these before all witnesses, that I do not seek to sin through all that is written, but to further understand the happenings of this life as I have experienced them so far.

At almost 22 I am unlearning much of what has been taught to me. Honestly, I never thought I would be the one to go the completely different route than what was expected, to veer from what I was told that was right. I know that this has been a long read, and perhaps in some ways, enraging, maybe sacrilegious. But, believe it or not, some of us live outside the sterile christian bubble, and things are not so well cut out here. I hope that no responses are formed immediately, but that the ideas are thought over and given time to form. I hope that you the reader can understand. This is not desperation, "new crispy realization." but many months of thought and observation. Of earnest prayer and seeing through years of learned misperception.

"look up through the trees to feel as small as you can."

This or Greater, for the Highest Good of All Concerned.