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."