It's Only as Good as It Sounds

It looks like I’ve been running out of things to say nowadays. Maybe I should be doing something to get those creative juices flowing. Like smoke a joint or down a cup of hot scalding tea- nawh, that’ll just wake me up. Although, that seems to be the only thing accessible at work.
I’m working on finding something new that’ll make me feel warm. No luck though. Checked some videos, but nothing really clicked with me. I’m not giving up hope but I’m starting to feel kinda sick. There’s so much great music from the past that I’ve never heard before and I’m trying to dig for it.

It’s really weird when I talk to friends or people who have read my blog. Sometimes I feel like I’m just repeating something that the person would’ve already read. I sorta like the idea of maintaining a blog. It really helps me in having no choice but to accept myself the way I am.
For the guys reading this, it’s fine to tell me that you read stuff here. Actually please do. I can get into a long winded explanation of how there’s a lot more going on than what I usually write here.

Sometimes I’m really impressed with myself. Other times not so much.

Most of us, from a very a young age, start to think and discover things we like about life. The things that really bring you passion, move you, make you so ecstatic. Then as you get older and as those hormones set in you realize you want to meet someone who feels passionate about the same things you do... same music... similar books… same movies. Although, during this time you never really set out to meet people like that. Because hoping to meet someone who has those same quirks and likes as you is just being idealistic. Then you grow older. The hormones have set in. You realize that all that similarity crap is just plain boring and that sometimes its way better to meet people who are a little bit different than you are. That weird feeling when you’re around each other, called chemistry... I want to meet someone else who can understand this.



With songs like “Solitude,” “I’ll Be,” and “Could Not Ask For More,” my man, Edwin McCain knows how to put his hands on the pulse of music. For more than ten years, the alternative, indie singer-songwriter has been a staple in an ever-changing music industry.

If Edwin McCain has touched you, puh-leez raise your hand and give me a hellyeahh!

New post by Mister Mayer

Finally! he wrote another post:

I know I've written along these lines before, but do you know why it matters? Because someday you're going to be old, and things are going to change. Your body is going to turn on you. I already know where the L-5 and L-6 discs in my back are, because they're wearing down a little, and when I ask the doc how we lick this, he says "It is what it is. You're not 18 anymore." I have 3 gray hairs that I insist are "mutant clear hairs" but they're not. They're just gray. And right on time.

Chances are you won't get hit by that proverbial bus people always talk about when they're smoking a Lucky Strike and tipping back on their chair. Odds are also on your side (thank God) that you won't ever get the news from your doctor that you have only months left to live. But you know what he may very well tell you? That you need a new hip. Nobody ever says "live it up because someday you might need a new hip" but it's the truth. They don't say "Be good to one another because in time we'll all know a medical lab technician on a first name basis" but it happens every day.

My point is that whenever that someday comes, when I slide into the MRI scanner and the thing starts spinning up, spitting lasers and screaming into my ears, I may very well say to myself "I wish I had just one more of those summers."

Being a young man is kick-ass. Being a young man who knows that being a young man is kick-ass is what it's really all about. And as a musician, I'm finally learning to distinguish the notes that matter from the ones that don't. I'm also getting better at knowing those notes as a person, too. I'm excited to bring it all on stage, and even more excited to see you all out there.

Thank you for another one of those summers.

- John

Attempts To Heal Myself (2)

Last night I watched this really amusing film called ‘Employee of the Month’. It would’ve been a pretty good night except that I discovered that this guy I really like cheated on this girl I knew. And guess who the other girl was? ME!

Doh!!

With this discovery everything felt stressful. I really don’t know how to handle this sort of thing yet. But it feels like I’m getting used to it.

I’ve been asked why I constantly upload pictures on facebook. Why do I feel the need to capture moments? Why can’t I just experience it? I think that I’m just trying to pass on one amazing experience to someone else.

One of the things my folks have never understood about me is that I’m very much unlike the person they think they know. I feel like I’ll never be able to explain how I would rather listen to music all day and not search for my future husband or spend time learning to cook. They’ve never felt the bass that thumps your veins or felt the rhythm of a song in their stomachs or understood people pumping their fists when they listen to something they can’t contain their excitement for. I’ve spent so much time away from them in new and different situations in this crazy world, how could I expect them to understand? That’s one of the reasons why I want to move out - there’s just so much of a disconnect. Even if they can’t comprehend why I do the things I do, I hope they can accept it.

Heard a song on the radio today. Used to be one of my favorites when I worked at the radio station. I used to play this song every time I had control over the song selection. I sure do miss my days there. The band’s called Johnny Hates Jazz. They came up with music known as New Romantic pop during the 80's. While the band appeared to be trying too hard to tug at pop-loving hearts, their music was catchy. So for all you 80’s lovers, go ahead and take a listen to this track – Johnny Hates Jazz ‘Heart of Gold’. Enjoy the music.

Enough of Nothing

I envy friends of mine who know exactly what they want to do and where they want to go in life. I envy their courage to risk it all. Like for instance, people who know that at a certain age they want to tie the knot or others who study for a certain course cause they know being a designer or a singer is all what they want to be. I wish I had a singular dream like theirs. For me, this week I’ll intensely believe that I can only work in a music related business and then next week, I’ll probably want to be a writer and then who knows, the week after that I’ll resolve to continue to refine what I’m already doing with hardly anything changed.

When I was in college, we had the book ‘The French Lieutenant’s Woman’ by John Fowles on our syllabus. Last night I watched the movie. The verdict? As usual, the book was better than the movie.

My sister and I were talking about the things we’ll need for our new place. We’ll have to make do with just the necessary stuff for the first few months and then slowly start buying furniture and other appliances. That’s the price I pay for living on my own, I guess. It’s a cool feeling in a way though. After all, isn’t growing up learning to take care of yourself?

Sometimes I tell myself that I’ve got to change but then I’ll be different. I feel like I already am. I’m just afraid that if I’m satisfied with the way I am right now then where’s the impetus to make it better? Feels like I’m all tied up in knots.
Are you going crazy reading this? Then you’re feeling what I’m feeling. Now I’m not sure what point I was trying to make.

CK, the new hotness, came into work today, in formals. Been working with him for a year now and I’ve never seen him formals. I can’t say enough about it. He looked pretty smart.

Yesterday, I turned on the television, just in time to see British rock band Athlete’s ‘Wires’. It’s the lead single from their second album, Tourist. The track sounds hauntingly beautiful. It’s been said that the song was written by lead singer Joel Potts, after his daughter was born prematurely.

‘Running, down corridoors through, automatic doors
Got to get to you, got to see this through
First night of your life, curled up on your own
Looking at you now, you would never know’

Attempts to Heal Myself

I got up at noon and that was the best sleep I’ve had in months. Had breakfast and checked Facebook for awhile. Caught up with my sis. Haven’t seen her all week. Moving- out- day is coming very close and I still have to let my parents know about the decision. Today was pretty uneventful. Cleaned my room and watched The Bank Job.

I generally write when I’ve got something bothering me and writing it out is a way for me to find expression for the unease, pressure or rage I feel. I’d prefer writing things I’ve experienced, with the intention of being objective, where the magic is between the lines. I need to do more of that.

This guy I like came online today. Somehow we don’t talk like we used to anymore. Maybe he expected that a night of fun would just be that. Apparently, I took things seriously and I seemed to have scared him away. God, I miss him. Kind of inspiring in a way that he left to do something he was passionate about. But also not. I’ll bet he hurt a lot of people. But it’s okay because he’s an artist, right? Or is it okay because we all hurt people even if we try not to? Why do I wonder? Whywhywhywhywhy. Whinewhinewhine.

So if you e-mail somebody a few times and he doesn't respond. There are three possibilities:

Possibility No. 1 - It doesn't matter if you send multiple mails or messages and get him irritated. He wasn't interested in you to begin with. Then he deserves the annoyance for being absolutely inconsiderate.

Possibility No. 2 - Eventually he gets to your many messages and responds since he is your soul mate.

Possibility No. 3 – If he never gets to your mails, well, you're just fucked and not in a good way.
Of course, if he still hasn’t written to you it’s cause he’s been so busy with something important and he finally checks his mail and sees the many messages from this total psycho who seemed kind of charming and funny at first but is clearly not someone he wants in his life?
Not that any of this is going through my head.

But if, by chance, you are reading this and still remember the drunken night at 13th Floor then please mail me.

Last Saturday at Taika’s was pretty insane. I’ve never seen a club packed so full of people dancing to Boney M. The crowd at most of these clubs is so funny. You have your regular clubber types… then your sloppy drunk types… and finally the most entertaining bunch… the middle aged types. I don’t know where I fall in. Used to belong to the first group a long time ago, now I think with a sufficient amount of alcohol in my body it’ll be the second type. I saw a guy in pajamas. Wish I had taken my camera with me.

I need to give my drum sticks away. They stare at me quite cruelly, a constant reminder of an unaccomplished passion. I figure if the sticks are just going to be sitting here, I should give it to someone who would actually put them to use.

I’m sick of being depressed. How do people who are happy stay happy? How do they ignore all the shit that happens in the world and not feel guilty? I really want to know and be like them.
I wish I was a better Christian. I think I’d be a lot happier.

Switchfoot's 'Only Hope':