Saturday, December 13, 2014

The Monitor, Titus Andronicus

This is an album I know like the back of my hand

Titus Andronicus' The Monitor is a very special and important release to me because its themes and motifs are incredibly relatable as they are inspiring and vast.

The instrumentation is pretty basic and washy, lo fi electric guitars and bass, driving punk drums, wheezing organs and bagpipes, pretty folk punk record.

and the vocals are crackly and whiny, like Patrick Stickles is crying and singing all at once, drawing a very pretty picture of Pianos Become The Teeth, perfectly capturing the imagery of social exile and alienation with crippling depression and blinding angst.

And you know what?

Its eerily perfect.

This record tells the story of a breakup, relating it to the events of the American Civil War, with excerpts of letters and poetry recorded in between songs or movements.

It goes through the painful angst and melancholy of the troubled youth as they fight and struggle through university and the unfeeling masses refusing to accept the diverse or otherwise unique, with lyrics bearing such weight and anguish, its impossible to not feel emotionally grounded or at least solemnly aware while listening.

This album is an emotional power trip as much as it is a howling homage to the bands efforts previous, bringing in the theme 'Titus Andronicus Forever' as a resonating Bro Anthem of the band and its fanbase.

This album taught me a lot about myself and my feelings during a really dark and angsty time in my life, and I really carry a lot of gratitude towards it.

This band was kind of like... There for me, like this record specifically, and I have a lot of personal attatchment to it. And I think thats what Titus Andronicus was really trying for here, because the record is so deeply personal and heartfelt you cant help but relate to it in some way.

This record takes on such concepts as anti-americanism, the human condition, personal inadequacy, and the struggle of self loathing.

A lot of the lyrics come from a dark place in Patrick Stickles' mind and his heart.

It is made abundantly clear the pain and isolation he was feeling when he wrote these songs, as the words kind of carry a sort of self-hating tone and the subject matter of which the songs are about are very obviously kind of painful experiences in his life.

The artwork is very simple, mainly old photos from the civil war era taken in a kind of blue scale which i think compliments the album greatly, giving it a really Northern, kind of somber feel.

The last track is what really sets this apart from your average angsty emopunk album.
Weighing in at Fourteen minutes and eleven seconds, The Battle of Hampton Roads takes up an entire side of The double LP release. and that's just what this track is, its a final release, the last phlegmy exhale before you can breathe clearly again, the last push to survival and assured victory, that night where you break down completely over her before you start picking your pieces back up. At the same time, its a prime example of the futility of angst in the first place. I identified with this album most when i was seventeen going on eighteen. It sounds very similar to that of the musings and wails of the late adolescent emo kid, but it was written by a bearded twenty something about college in New Jersey. But for what it is, this track is absolutely stunning and well engineered and produced. It takes a special kind of magic to make fourteen minutes feel like nothing in terms of songs. And they managed to hit it right on the head with this track. Its flow is remarkable, and its layered textures are very visible and complimented by each other, along with the final gasps of despair echoing into emptiness. This track has perfect builds and the order of the album is such a perfect set up for this amazing punk rock desertif that drinks like a 24 case of bud light platinum and carries you up to your room when youre done sitting in the back yard rambling about pork chops, with like, a gatorade and a puke bowl n shit. This song knows how to end an album.

This might be the personal attatchment, sense of nostalgia, and overall likability of the band, but i am definitely feeling like this record deserves some serious praise.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

100th post.

It has taken me like give or take three or four years to write 100 different things on this website.

This blog has been a vessel of feels all throughout my angsty years.

Like a... sea hearty wife of a terrified sailor

and throughout EVERYTHING, it has been there. In all of my love, and all of my loss, my drug addled rage and drug fueled euphoria.

Through all of the jobs ive had, and all of the music ive written, performed, tried to record, and soon to be carrying into TWO schools with me.

100 posts.


Well, 90 technically. 90 that YOU'VE seen.

But ive been busy. Beleive it or not, there are some things i write that I DONT post on here! Be them too long and contrived, too short to be substantial, not informative enough, not upbeat enough, TOO angsty, maybe too suicidal...

some ideas i do eventually bring to the forefront, though merely in retrospect.

And even now, while I sit here marking the seventh consecutive hour watching the horrific plastic snakeman version of Henry Rollins known as Mark Landsberg speak about... I dont know, sportsball? Seriously this mans uncanny valley ass face is the most horrifying fucking thing.

he looks like a Ken Doll you left on the stovetop.

In fact almost everyone on this show looks like an off-brand punk rocker....

We have meltyface Henry Rollins, jobless plumber Lars Frederiksen, and just the literal guys from Four Year Strong, sitting in a cold metal studio literally exchanging twitter handles for an hour or two what is this garbage

but anyway yeah 100 posts i am a big deal sup

Saturday, November 29, 2014

The Last Known Space Cowboy

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Tuesday, November 25, 2014

We Fight On

I kinda miss back when my feelings of angst and inadequacy ruled my existance and I wasnt so grown up and quiet.

At least I had something to say, even if it didnt matter.

However, even with the importance of what I have to say being at all relevant or not, I dont miss feeling super ridiculously shitty and not having the motivation to put up with stuff i didnt want to continue with anymore to carry me forward into something i MIGHT wanna do later.

Life since this blog crashed has been a laugh, and thats just the way I like it. Now everything really feels like its a building block, like life is going somewhere, like I'm leveling up and its good!

Lifes about to get a little harder, but in a good way, not a depressing one.

Which is AWESOME. I legit fucking hate being depressed.

Im glad thats all behind me.

I still get glimpses of it, but it is never as bad as it used to be.

Depression built a fighter, when it wanted to wreck a weak link.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Caffeine consumption

More or less, every morning, I will pound back two cups of coffee. And then on my way to work I will pick up two rockstars and pound those back.

Then when i get off work, I drink two MORE rockstars, and if i feel like it, suck back a large double-double before I go home.

How the hell I can sleep is beyond me. But its no question that I may have a slight caffeine addiction.

We all have our vices, I guess, and mine just so happen to be gratuitious ammounts of sketchy chemicals and then weed to bring me back down again.

And its not even like the rush I get from a lot of energy drinks is all that satisfying or really that prevalent, I just like drinking rockstar cause its tasty!!

And another thing I have learned as a lightweight, anyway...

Jaegermeister is your friend. Youre riding easy on your random hard liquor, and its kinda making you more groggy than drunk. Three shots of Jaeger and a can of redbull and suddenly it's intermission!
As the sleepiness that tries to take hold of you dissapates, you feel the other inhibitions melt away along with it.

Suddenly its time to drink more! And youre still feeling very little of it! This carries on until the caffeine wears off, and then youre still a wobbly mess, but without the vomit!

Versus firing blind, railing three tequila, pounding back three schooners, wobbling home and throwing up.

So yeah, I pound back lots of caffeine... But whatever! Least I kinda know how to party?

Namaste n shit

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Paid in sighs

Say how did you get those marks on your neck?
Was it the cherry in the bowl
Or the cover of the check?
Maybe you're as smooth
as the pomade in your hair
create enticing poison
by manipulation of the air

And who chiseled out your jaw?
And for that matter, your collar?
A grande with no foam
Will that be all? Or...

Everyone will tell you
That you're always something special
But when it comes to pleasing
You've never felt the pressure
And how gifted you are with all those hooks and ties
almost like you get paid in sighs

Say how did you get that lipstick on your cheek?
Was it her passion in her eyes
Or her knees going weak?
Or maybe you're as loving
As your mother thinks you are
Create unbreakable webs
by alignment of the stars

And who polished those eyes
And can they get any bigger?
Maybe if I make you smile
And make my heart go a little quicker

Everyone will tell you
That you're always something special
But when it comes to pleasing
You've never felt the pressure
And how gifted you are with all those hooks and ties
almost like you get paid in sighs

Everyone will tell you
That you're always something special
But when it comes to pleasing
You've never felt the pressure
And how gifted you are with all those hooks and ties
almost like you get paid in sighs

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Hell might be a social construct, but earth goes on for miles...

Take it from the top and see what comes
through the broken hearts, and all the bloody thumbs
lose sight of myself in the light of the future
burn off the past and let the now be my sutures
set the infrastructure of this dog and pony show
break off the restraining valve and let your feelings flow

the dramatic flimsy framework and dispassionate pleas prolonging
the painful break inevitable, necrotic heart still longing
fight through brush and briar to get to where you are,
monument to childhood, left to go so far
terracotta life, all my fired naiive strife, crumbling with age and rain
oceans over hate and pain

the battery of love and rage
not liked but necessary,
for every step in the right direction comes a worthy adversary
and i wont fight but overcome
unrelenting until this battle is won
bet against me your healthy wagers
for und wir sind der jaeger.

Friday, November 14, 2014

DJ-JJ and the methods of control

(The JJ Stands for Just Joey)

I talk about my job a lot. Particularly because i blog from here like, 100% of the time now (I have no computer at home)

But this is also one of the most like... idk biggest learning experiences ive ever had. Particularily about control, and how I can actually have control and its okay.

They try to teach you this lesson at school but i dont know, it always came off as so so snide when I was learning.
High School is a shitty place.

The whole concept of having responsibility n whatnot.

I mean yeah i get it i owe it to a lot of people to be at a certain place at a certain time, yaddah yaddah yaddah, whatever i gotta be a good drone for the man n stuff.

But no its so much different than that.

My job is actually pretty like... managerial in a way like, sure im "just a DJ" but since i work in the daytime, the actual music part of the gig is the most insignificant. Sure whenever Flagpole Sitta appears on the inbetween list, I have to stop it and play it from the beginning after the dancer goes off stage but thats personal.

What? I really like that song...

But someone once explained to me that when I'm here, I'm TECHNICALLY the boss. No, I don't tell the servers what to do, but I have to like, be 150% OCD about times dancers get on and off the stage. I run the show, I'm the Cassie, the stage manager. Thats not really that big a deal, considering I'm not the only one who has an idea of what needs to happen when. Fuck if you need ME of all people to discipline you, you're beyond all help as it is...

Anyway, learning this means and method of control is really helping me out with another skill that requires a lot of control.


I'm picking up on it rather quick, it wont be long till I go for my license (fucking finally)

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Showing up to work just... covered in lipstick.

Ever had one of those?

Like, not one of this nights where you DON'T know what happened but like

one of those nights where you DO? and it was still JUST AS crazy?

I mean, I'm a nineteen year old middle Canadian suburbanite. I dont get up to a whole lot.

But there's still a sort of... I don't know an allure to coming in to work on a quiet Saturday morning to open the place up... but you're covered in smeared lipstick and other funny little markings that the evening had left on you.

I used to hate starbucks because whenever I'd have big purple suckmarks on my neck from the fun night previous, they would like, VINDICTIVELY stick me on drive thru till... where i was clearly visible and had to talk to customers about it.

Sometimes everyone was cool about it (mainly the rich milfy crowd with a few good jokes and a "hey sweetie, at least you're getting some"), but ehh, I got a lot of... I guess jealous insecure kids (or they were just little cuntbags, I'm not a psychologist) and i dont know WHY they bothered me so much but they did. I mean yeah, jesus christ how DARE I get action, what the hells wrong with me?!

Anyway i guess working where I'm under the guise of no light has really helped me get over the fact that hickeys happen, and I like feeling kind of dirty, I guess.

Also, apparently theres a definite difference in a Joey who got laid last night and a Joey who didnt... According to the doormen.

Never thought I'd be one of those people but c'est la'vie?!

Yeah this post is about my sex life, deal with it.


I remember in like, the 17-18 year old days where like, if you had a mark on your neck it was like, you were branded with such scorn and ridicule that it was just about impossible to deal with. This motherfucker had to wear a scarf inside all his last week of school cause things went a little well for him on his birthday.

now its like, half my neck can be purple and I couldn't give any less of a shit.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

"You are not where you are, you are where you're going"

I felt a lump in my throat when I opened the letter.

It was from the government, addressed to me. A projection of my grades from all of highschool.

My heart got pretty heavy in my chest and decided to become friends with my stomach when i scanned the numbers. Very few of them were above 60.

Im not sure what I was expecting. I mean, Its not like my mind was really ever in the right place when I was in school, at least not academically. You guys were there, you read the story from april 2011 to now, you can probably guess from my writing and one-dimensional thought process that I wasnt really a prized student.

I logged into the U of L bridge. If I had my grades, they sure did as well.

With dashed hopes, I begrudgingly looked over my admission status.

And much to my surprise, I was... I was in. I was accepted.

They approved me!

The next chapter in this book was about to turn over and as far as I could tell, it was gonna be an adventurous one.

The same day I helped my dad winterize the camper, and after that little snafu (did you know that the older and more broken a diesel generator is, the more of a headache it becomes to turn over?) we rendezvoued at the local pub with a few neighbours. With my brother out of the house on sunday, and me admitted into school a whole two hours south of home and out of the house come January, this has been a pretty exciting week at chez de la Edmond.

This is all progress, me building my life up a little more every day. And I guess I finally made it to level 58, cause I just got the go ahead to start grinding away in the Outland. (WOAH! Inaccurate WoW references!)

So wowee, everyone! To here knows when!

Sunday, November 2, 2014

TGIDJ!! (Thank God I DJ!)

i talk about work a lot. Well, I TALKED about work a lot.

But my latest gig has a bit of a story and half to it.

Last we left off, I worked at Starbucks, yeah?

Be real, Starbucks actually fucking rocked, for the most part...

All good things, as they say.

After parting ways with them, I tried out a few didffrerent part time gigs. Few of them were even run properly!

(word of warning to those like me: steer clear of mall retail. Itll hurt you worse than anything)

Dont know what im talking about? Look at that neverending buzzfeed list of lists on why retail is so horrible. From the mouth of the JJ himself, he can tell you its all 100% accurate and 200% horrible.

Looking at the past makes me feel incredibly grateful for the present, you know? In a lot of ways.

After getting chewed up and spit out in the retail world, I hit up the k'joos (thats kijiji for all you non street types) for another 9-5. Gotta pay the bills somehow!

No fuckin shit. I found an ad. Looking for a DJ. Slash Announcer. At

...Ho you're gonna love this...

Risque Rouge! What the hell is... Risque Rouge... Sounds... Sounds kinda fancy?

Alright alright, let me break it down for ya.

So we got our EVER SO GLIMMERING Night Club scene in the A B E A UTEEFUL City of Calgary. Its about as fun as this passage is drenched in sarcasm.

Theres like... TWO clubs ever id reccommend to anyone. Republik, and Twisted. Now ive beefed on the cowboy club bullshit already so im not gonna delve too deep into it.

But its shit tacular, just... just take my word for it. OKay, moivin on Risque Rouge.

Definitely more of the adult kind of club.

Like the... strippy kind of adult.

And for WHATEVER REASON, they hire me.

I get called in for an interview lets say in mid august, and i roll in all quiet and scared. Like the first day of school if school were the exact opposite of what it is. This interview was more of an orientation than anything else. (no, we ARE NOT counting university)

I make my way to the booth, and I see this little mousey dude. This little mousey dude turned out to be one of the most absolute coolest people ive ever met, we call him Keith. Lots of cool Keiths in this city, thats for sure. (eyes on YOU, Johnstone!)

So he shows me around in a very... Joeyish fashion. I could tell deep down, there was very little Keith cared about in this place. His passions were definitely elsewhere. It really spoke to me how well we hit it off. Its a shame i was his replacement all along, but at the same time it makes a hell of a lot of sense.

Starting off, I kinda professed in putting everyone in a bad mood. Well, excuse me for living, I guess...

But thats all one nowadays. I'm rockin the Daytime DJ throne in the south end!

Looking at the job I have now, versus all the crazy bullshit I had to put up with in the last like... five ish years... Its almost as if it was all leading up to this. I now THRIVE on crazy.

Just so long as I have the zen of all zen waiting for me at the end of it all!

Also, pologies for not being around the past few days. I was too party for the blog, I guess.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

SO this is why we dont wake up at noon.

I was finally written up for my lateness at work.

I mean, damn not like I can appeal it, I'm a lazy ADHD motherfucker!

Lesson learned on that front. Over and over and over again.

ANYWAY. Halloween is coming up, and with Halloween comes the stress that follows with cosplay.




Yeaaah son!

I got into it full force in the summer for this years Otafest, and then later I did a group cosplay at Animethon, all of this a la the AMAZINGLY TALENTED Dorothy Thicket!

Otafest was an amazing experience for me, opening me up to convention culture in a very fun way. For a while the whole anime thing scared me. Until I was surrounded by people who were so passionate and intense about it, but just so ready to be friendly and whole-heartedly accepting, that it was just... It was a beautiful weekend of feel good feels and rad rad times. And then the dance on the Saturday night brought me back to a very special time of my life. Oh yeah I am talking about Vic Lewis. Back when it happened every year, I really took that festival for granted. (Also I was surrounded by high school kids... sue me for being bitter) But anyway yeah, festival for granted. Why? Because the experience of dancing with no strings attatched is a very rare occurrence when you grow up. You go to a club at age eighteen and you expect good natured fun with glowsticks and kids shuffling and breakdancing in circles and you get thirty year old meatcakes in cowboy hats grinding all up on each other and spilling a 10$ pint of beer on you. So this dance at the end of the night was... literally perfect. It was just that cloudy pipe dream i explained. it was just a bunch of anime nerds, going hard on the paint to some sick trancey hardstyle beats, and just getting INTO it. This is a beautiful memory for me. It was the defning deciding factor from which I base all of my judgement of anime culture on. Super sweet dance parties.

So naturally, after having THAT good of a time, I feel it imperative to make a hobby out of it, right?

And with this hobby comes a HELL OF A LOT OF STRESS.
And yet, it is INCREDIBLY worth it, since im putting all of this stress on my self and just working through it. going absolutely mad on the hobby and coming out with something Daedric Princess Dorothy Thicket will look at and later tell you "I'm proud of you"

You gotta own it, work hard, and enjoy it. Realize that the stress and problems you are having are evidence of a good time to come regardless of how everything works out.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014


this is a subject so just... big thats its almost bigger than I am.


Anyway, I guess for a large part of my life (like, from consciousness to now) I've always been insanely into music, but for the longest time the interest was kind of irrelevant and useless until about high school, that was when I started putting social skills and musical skills together to make... i dunno bunch of really creative messes.

"SO in case you guys haven't caught on yet, I am quite a musical person.

and with my... enjoyment and adoration for all things that make a sound, I have a very staccato history of my experiences with music.

There was this one time when I was in fifth grade and I saw a Beatles tribute band with my parents and I cried it was so good

and then there was that one time I was in like, two bands at once and then I spread myself way too thin creatively, didn't agree with the people involved and that plan ended as quickly as it began

which leads us to now. I sort of put music on hold. I returned my guitar to the music store, and I freed up space in my mind to focus on other things... But we all know how that turns out.

So anyway that space I freed up in my brain became occupied by nothing. I just kind of drifted along life being all bummed out and not knowing why. Until it struck me!


So I drifted along simply existing, until my friend Tizzy got a hold of me and tried to get people together to start some kind of group. but then school started and she had to go play bass for the motherland jazz combo, so I was all on my own. No big deal though, I can play bass just fine on my own (Been playing for over six years now! GO ME!) So we finally just got together in our drummers basement and jammed. We went over some songs we knew (or knew some or most of) and we turned two of them into jams. Our first jam was The Ramones' oh so cult classic "Blitzkrieg Bop" which turned into a game of "Pass the solo around till we feel like ending the song"

Practising with these guys was really fun, and I think we decided to consider ourselves a band today. we use "nine-pound lemon" as kind of a working title.

Last year, I was in two bands. They both functioned quite differently. One of them of course was Gumby's Stubble,which only had 2 permanent members, myself and Coleman. That band did not do so well, considering I was in charge of it, it was very unorgainzed and sounded shitty because it sucked and I had very little time for it.

The other band was a ska band with people in it that I don't think are very fond of me anymore. The practices weren't practices so much as hanging out playing videogames I'm not a fan of, and smacking instruments occasionally. They kicked me out, changed their name, and that was that. I still support them though, they aren't bad guys, and their sound is amazing. I think they have what it takes to go somewhere.

This new band I am in though. It is great, it is very unlike any band I have been in. Everyone is very relaxed and we agree with each other."

I wrote this in late 2012 and didn't publish it, I guess for whatever reason. Oh man, I am seeing so many errors...

But yeah, I was in Gumby's Stubble, Welcome to the Neighborhood, and then after both of those spun out of control (well, for me at least. Neighborhood became Lo fi eventually), i spent grade twelve jamming with my friend Ethan Hamshaw in a band called The Legislative Assembly (previously Nine Pound Lemon). This kid is destined to be the next Gordon Freeman but in real life. The most organized, talented, and technical guitarists ive ever heard, and it also shows in other aspects of his personality as well. Thanks to him, we were a band that went out and played shows. He cared just as much if not moreso than I did, and I REALLY respect that. We eventually all had to part ways with him, he eventually realized he didnt agree with the original members. Which was fine, i mean everyone needs to live their own lives, but man, I REALLY REALLY REAAAALLY admired this guy. He's off doing school stuff now, much too busy to be a musician...

Anyway, I guess the burning urge to become someone musical really set itself up for me in fifth grade, like I said. Those rose tinted fantasies of being a big shot rockstar filled me with such hope and fire, it was more than something to ignore. And All bets were off when I met one Aaron Red Smith in grade seven. These fantasies became goals after talking with him. So I guess thats why this isnt something im planning on giving up any time soon. I was given a mission to get there, and by god I will.

After TLA broke up, and I decided to make a big goof of myself playing a bunch of acoustic shows for free beer, I guess (the absolute greatest free thing of all, in my opinion) at the bars downtown, the remaining members and I picked up a new guitarist and decided to go under the name of Lets Bomb Pluto

So yeah we had only ever realeased one song, only ever played one show (and this was POST New Black, by the way, but thats gonna be another post for another time.) but I guess it was a lot of fun. I mean, personally I enjoyed TLA more but thats just because we actually met up and practiced often, and kept everything very organized, but that isnt to say that LEts Bomb Pluto wasn't a fun band to play in. We just didnt do much I mean yeah we wrote a LOT of music, but recorded almost none of it, performing only a little more than that. And when school rolled around and everybody parted ways, it all felt so useless. Oh well, We'll see what happens with Pluto.

I mean I'm constantly surrounded by music nowadays, what with my job, and i never stop playing even at home.

But as it stands now I'm just all alone practicing and writing and never stopping.

To here knows when, I guess.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

I remember when I tried to be hella punk rock

I also remember when I wrote often and didnt like eggs unless they were scrambled, had to pretend to care about how late for school I was, and didn't work at a strip club as a daytime DJ for way more than I think I deserve.

Anyway, Joey and the punk "scene"

I write "scene", because like, I mean sure I really liked the music, and aesthetic attatched to punk rock, and still do, I never really looked for the "scene" in my city. Part of being a suburbanite prisoner, I guess. You kinda get spooked at whats out there. Another thing though, I guess all through my more younger years, in that back half of going to school, I was terrified that I wasn't doing punk right at all. It all came from the lack of approval I got from any of my friends and stuff. A few of my peers humored me, but I was pretty sure we all had no idea what I was going for in the first place, and if anyone who did were to see me, there would be some hell in a handbasket waiting for me. And for something I loved so much, I really REALLY didnt want to be ostracized from it. So I never really sought out for the other punk rockers in my city. I kinda made it up as I went along, I guess. Getting a few ideas from the internet and going on hours of hours of sleepless nights, clicking through albums on youtube, and dancning in my basement violently and passionately, wailing on a borrowed drumset and thinking i could go places with this (I dont know why I'm using the past tense here). I wouldnt settle for just "becoming one of them", no I could be the NEW thing! No one ELSE was doing it right! I was! I was going out of my way to have a spot on grainy high pitched punk voice with JUST enough Jello Biafra influence, I was reading the Communist Manifesto and Scott Pilgrim, researching things like Anarchy and New Mexico and Pat the Bunny I was learning guitar, bass, and drums simultaniously, painting my nice jacket my mommy bought me when I was 15, everything!

I guess what ended up happening was, the fear went away. I kinda learned through all of the crazy that I wasnt being "punk" or anything, what I was trying to do all along was be myself, like literally every other kid my age. Difference was I was just kinda more... idk verbal about it. I tried writing down who I was, the evidence is all under here. I mean, of course Im still trying to figure it all out, but I dont know, I guess its just not that big a deal for me anymore. Lifes become less of an adolescent cry for identity, and more of a collective day to day bulletin board, full of mistakes and how to learn from them.

I remember I loved fall out boy in elementary school. Fall Out Boy, Sum 41, The Offspring, Blink 182, Avenged Sevenfold, all bands I'd resent later in life for literally no solid reason. My entire life was just high pitched acidic stress over my shoulders for the longest time. And a lot of it just kinda came from liking music (no. I didnt like music. I just liked to hate it. I liked to bitch about nothing thinking everyone loved it every time I opened my mouth.) and thinking it affected who I was as a person to a crazy degree. I've kept quiet about this for like, ever, because this lesson kinda has gone without say for all eternity and i just... was so late to the party that Nick was already throwing up in the laundry room sink, but yeah, finding out the concepts of subjectivity and keeping your damn mouth shut sometimes (most times) ...(all the time) fixed damn near everything in my life. My passion can really like, explode like it should, things make sense, I'm not overlooking minutiae thinking its conceptual, I'm finally GETTING SHIT DONE, and I'm getting help where I really need it. The kind of help that makes you better off as a person I'd like to think.

Not to mention, I'm working hard, following my passion, and enjoying every minute of it all. The stress, the excitement, the apprehension, the ups and downs, its all so crazy beyond words, but it is all so so relevant to me and inescapable that I can't not live in the moment. Refusing to let my fear guide me, but instead breaking out that super sweet little Jack Sparrow compass and letting my passion take me on a super crazy adventure through time and beyond.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Punk rock? Right.
I dunno, I feel like I started with it, and took it as far as I could. The it sorta branched out for me, made me see the good in a lot of things, and kinda taught me how to be myself, I guess? I dunno why, but it kinda feels like thats a hard thing to do. Ive kinda picked up on this just through chatting with people, the whole concept of solidarity and being yourself is a whole other case to crack, though. Big subjective subject, that one.

I guess what ive taken away from this is like... Punks a lot bigger than what I ever thought it was. And that's a pretty rad thing. Its more of a spirit than an attitude, or an aesthetic, or a music genre. Dave Grohl once said something along the lines of rock being so incredible because youll sing something to 80'000 people, and theyll all sing it back for 80'000 different reasons. I feel like that embodies the whole idea beautifully.

Just be true to yourself, and you're gonna have a rad time with life.

Friday, March 28, 2014

Thing a day

I am essentially made of two things,
Time and energy.
What I do with what I’m made of is totally up to me.
That’s an amazing thought for me, it’s also sort of intense,
Because I’m made of time and energy, two totally finite things that I can’t really measure. I mean yeah, time is measured in minutes, hours and years, and energy in joules, but I can’t measure them for ME specifically, you know?
Most songs last a matter of minutes and seconds.
When I listen to music, I’m sharing my time and energy with it.
When I hang out with people, I’m sharing my time and energy with them, transferring energy and cherishing time. And that’s amazing.
I… I might have to talk about people a lot.
I think I already do. People are an interesting thing.
Time and energy, all of us, That’s all we’re REALLY made of.
and that’s not a bad thing at all! People do beautiful things with both.
beautiful, amazing, terrible, awesome, great, no matter what we use our time and energy to do anything and everything.

You know whats awesome?
Your brain is you.
Your heart is you.
through and through.

When you want to be a part of everything, it only serves to make you feel more detatched. But when you find something to be a part of that makes you feel more real?! MAN, you won’t even remember what its like being anything else! (A blessing, and a curse, I guess.)

I remember watching silly little GI Joe parody shorts when I was a younger me.
“As far as arcade games go, pick ONE that you can do. Pick ONE that you can do as opposed to picking thousand different games where you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.” Is a line I remember well.