Everything All the Time

I wouldn't call it a social network. In fact, I'd call it an artificial social networking tool. I'd call it crazy in a box but, that is, only if you have a mobile device that allows you to log in and check up every ten minutes. I'm talking about Facebook. Recently, I've been calling it FaceFuck. I have a Facebook. In the past I've used it frequently. By frequently, I mean I've found myself checking my page 30+ times a day from my phone (or portable computing device) for notifications, messages, friend-request, updates, etc... The amount of hours I've wasted on this site makes me shake my head in embarassment. Frankly, I'm ashamed with myself. Facebook: The mighty outside influence.

How many times a day do you look into the mirror or see a reflection of yourself? Can you pass by a glass window without staring at yourself? I haven't been able to. I've become incredibly vain... I'm soaking in self delusion. I feel that I managed to find an addiction to Facebook. My eyes are ruined because I've spent countless hours starting at the small three by two inch screen on my phone at all hours of the night and day, sometimes only inches from my face. My eyes are strained when I go outside in the daytime, I find it hard to look straight up. I've been forcing my eyes to see clearly at night. I don't think hope is lost for my eyes, I think only that I need to lay off the back-lit screens for a while.

Through personal observation, I've found FB to cause more of a social distortion than a network. Does one really need to know what all of his/her friends are doing all at once? I've felt left out. I've felt unpopular, unloved, and forgotten all because no one commented on my status. Stupid, right? I don't want or need my  current life summed up on a computer screen. I want my friends to ask me about my day, my week, my month, my year. I want to ask you too. I don't want you to read and assume. I want you to know and feel me for me. I want to feel you and know you. It's fake. Unreal. It's a world behind a glass window, in a little box, in the palm of your hand. It's so tempting. It's a woman in a blue dress dancing in disguise. What is she disguising? She's in disguise of cruel intention. You're not on FB because you want to know, you're on FB because you want to see. It's easy access to the personal life of efveryone else. What's more is you can be who ever you want to be!

I'm finding it hard not to be cross. For I feel I ruined the better parts of me by abusing a tool of vanity. I lost heart, mind, and a very important person in my life, all because I let my guard down and became confused. Had FB not been in my life, I think this last year and a half would have been different. It could have been better. But, FB isn't soley to blame. For I have realized that although speak in spite and I curse the name and nature of FB, I made the choices myself. I pushed the buttons. Click to send. I saw what I shouldn't have seen, read what I shouldn't have read, became what I didn't want to become. And now, regret with a lesson learned. Play with fire, you might get burned.

Pent Up

Inside of Jorge's room, in the house that he shares with Julio and Jessica, two dogs, and some fish. I might live here soon. A few weeks ago my mom sent me a text message while I was at work, it read, "I have already spoken to Azhara, you and she have until May first to stay with me."

I should have been mad. I should have burst with anger. I shouldn't hold it in.

Someone said she could see my "inner battles" play out. I highly doubt that she could though.
Or at least, she would never understand what sort of battle is being fought inside of me.

So I called my Dad on my lunch break. Told him that my Mother was kicking me out. I told him that I wanted to come to Kansas. Kick it old school on the farm. He said I could. There's work that needs to be done. Money that needs to be made. Bugs that need to be squashed. Kansan's that need to be Blained. I miss my Dad. I miss the farm...

I still think of you.
Your voice is in the air.
Spring is your song.
I sing alone.
I sing along.
Photo's tell me stories
you're getting by
tying knots on your blouse
not for me.
I miss the dogs and the cats
the way you looked at me sometimes.

I"m just getting stranger and stranger. I have to force connection. Maybe I was just nervous but, when I spoke to you on that amazing and subtle night, on the couch, downstairs, below sleeping heads, I forced myself to listen. You had interesting things to say. Honestly, it was one of the best conversations I've had in a long time. We were without intentions, at least, we were silent about it. We talked movies, food, and music. Then Taco bell. Then the cemetery. Then you drove me home. I spend most of my days quiet. My jaw hurt from all of the chatter. It was a fun sting. Thank you for bringing me something real. I've haven't been here lately. Maybe it's the pain of being a man. Maybe it's the struggle of the artist. Maybe it's the insanity kicking in. Whatever it is, you helped me clear my head of nonsense, worry, and doubt. For a few hours, it was just you, me, and words. Text messages can be so lame. Facebook messages can be so dry. And lets not get started about Myspace... You were there with me. Looking in my eyes, listening to what I said. You were interested. I was there too. My eyes danced over you. You were hair, I was hair. We were words and laughter. You could count my yawn three times over and till this day, I'll still say that I wasn't tired.

Sober

I have friends that drink too much. I have friends that smoke too much. I have friends that don't do anything. I want to say something but, I don't know how. Now it's all drama. Now it's tension. Now it's uncomfortable to be around you because you're always drunk. Now it's difficult to work with you because you're always high. Suddenly all of your plans have changed. Suddenly your mind has changed and you've forgotten everything. Now you're angry at everyone. Now you're always depressed. Does alcohol balance the angry? Does weed balance the sad? Fuck. You guys are bringing me down. Youth is about learning how to push and not pull. It's about learning how to be responsible. It's about learning how to be responsible while still having fun. That's called being an adult. Growing up happens. Accept it. There's more to life than screwing with your brain and rearranging your emotions. My brain is screwed up enough. I don't want to worry about you guys. I'd give up my drinking and my smoking if you guys would give me one sober moment. I'm your friend, I'll drink with you, I'll get high with you, we'll have a good time but, I won't let you bring me down.. I'm staying up. Sink or swim boys... Sink or swim.

Social

I can't get around it. Facebook here, Facebook there. Myspace here, Myspace there. Status status. Update update. What's on your mind? What's on his mind? What's on hers? This is spinning out of control. Text messages. Where are you? Why did you text me? Can I come? What's wrong? Are you Ok? Hey how's it going!? What's the deal? What's the word? Spinning out of control. Email frenzy. Pop-up pop-ups. Blocked. Delete. Delete. Scan images. Take pictures with your phone. Make calls from your camera. Video messages. Audio hallucinations. Disabled. Forbidden. Hidden. Instant message. Twitter this, twitter that. Who I'm with. Who are you with? Where you are. Where you've been. Where you're going. I just don't care. I do it though. I'm apart of this chaos. This obsession. Creating vanity. Creating soldiers of misfortune. Creating insecurities. It's not just for high school girls with small tits. This is the time of bulk up boys. This is the day of make up girls. This is the decade of Final Fantasy. Where you get to live your dreams before you live your life. Imagine the child, alone and forgotten. No one know's the pain, the trouble, the wanting. Imagine no one knew what happened to because no one got the Facebook update. Because the message over Twitter never got around. Well now the child is gone. The pictures still exist on the web. Networked. Now people and drop in every couple of months to say that they miss you and all they want to do is hold you and see you again. It's beyond the remote control. It's on the horizons of being real people. We are becoming machine. It's starts in our pockets and ends up on our skin. It's the disbelief that it could ever happen that creates the blind and initiates the blank stare. The know it alls become the know no good. The brainiacs will become plastic. God will be replaced by Google. Food will be replaced by non-nutritive substitutes. Fire will be replaced with heat. Cold with be replaced with conditioners. Love will die. Love will evaporate. Today is sex. Today is who fucked who. Today is I put the one in the other and then did the this after the that. Today is dirty, nasty, filthy for the mind. The twisted desires have made themselves known. I am living in it. I carry the weight with me. I tell the whole world where I am. I have to keep you on your toes. Where will I be next? Keeps you guessing, I guess. Keeps you thinking, I think. Yes, I want a change of pace. I want the people to see the truth of being alive. I want to be the change. I need the world to realize that there is more than drugs, sex, and alcohol. We're dying. Dying because of the absence of love. Love for each other. Love for the the different types of people. Love for the different ideas and cultures. Maybe it's an American thing. Natural beauty is all around us but, I can't unglue my face from my cell phone. And I choose to take it with me? I need to go back to basics because I can't live like this.

Trouble...

I'm not that guy. I made you believe I was because... well I'm an idiot. The truth is, I'm not a player. I'm not a heart breaker. I'm not-so normal but, you already know that. I'm tall, strong, and honest. However, I tend to run my mouth a bit too much sometimes (Usually through texts). I can see you've got your thing going on, I'm not gonna be an obstacle. I've been chatting you up for the wrong reasons. I'm not going to apologize, you know that. I will say that before it gets weird, just take a breather and know that I wrote this because I meant it. So, I'll cool off. But only just a little... because it feels good to burn and lately, I'm on fire.

Melt

I've been feeling it lately. The newness. The change. The difference. It's time. It's time for me. I've got to stop wasting time. I've got to stop texting. I'm back in the game. And I feel it. I feel it deep inside. Everything beneath this post is the past. The sadness. The helplessness. No more. This is a new day. This is a new me. Harder than ever. Stronger than before. Louder. Passion. Fire. Intensity. I am of it. So sing me a song. I'll sing you a better one. And believe me, I can... These are sensitive songs. These are sensitive days for me. I'm being pulled and pushed in different directions. But I wade through waters of pain and misfortune. I wade because if I don't the tide will pull me down. It will drown me. I'll swallow the water and fade away. I'll burn out. Fuck that. These days do not belong to them. They are mine. These are not days of reckoning. These are days of promise. Days of hope. Days of fire. God it's strong in me. I feel it. Heavy on my hands. Kiss me. You'll melt.

There's Still More To Be Done

I'll be working Monday through Friday this week. I have 29 hours this week. Friday is pay day. For this, I am excited. As of this moment I'm broke. I just had to buy the headphones, the mic, the cable, and the sunglasses from Target... I spent the day at Omar's house. Made music from about 1pm until 9:30pm. That's a good day. Lately

I've been feeling different. During my my most recent excursion, I felt the something scratching at me. It was like something was saying "Just go... Go far far away. Don't come back for a while." It felt like something trying to pull me away. It felt good. I feel like I'm a good place to be carried away for a long time.. I want to disappear for a while. Just *poof*

I'll come back. Don't worry.

Something is changing, I can feel it.

It feels good.

Just protect me. Keep me safe. I don't want to stray too far away. I still have work to do. I still have books to read. I still have music to write. I still have people to meet. I still have stories to tell. I still have memories to take. So please, protect me from my doubts. Protect me from fear and worry. Protect me from distractions but, keep them bittersweet.  There's still more to be done.

*Now

I wrote a song a few weeks ago. Something about a dragon or something or other. I've been avoiding my guitars these last couple of weeks. I'm not sure why I doubt myself sometimes. I've gotta stop getting caught up in the future. I need now right now.  I forgot what I was looking for. And that describes the lost feeling. But, I feel like I've got my head back on track.

Now on to the now....

My Day

And in an instant, I've lost my mother.

No, she isn't dead but, she definitely hates me. Fine. Whatever. So what. I'm doubting that she ever wanted me around in the first place. I know for a fact that I was an accident. No condoms or birth control could hold me back. So here I am, after bursting out of that sack and into a microscopic egg, in a human woman, in California, in the United States of America, on a planet named Earth by it's inhabitants, in a solar system, in the milky way galaxy, in some sort of nebula, that's billions of years old, in a big fucking universe, filled with billions and billions of other galaxies, filled with shit-tons of other California's. And there's possibility of a fucking parallel universe? Maybe more than one? With other dimensions and shit? Fuck man.

So here I am twenty one years later and I can't figure out what the fuck I'm doing here. Geez... Boy do I feel like I've screwed up. I'm supposed to be a musician? Well what the hell? What am I doing about it? Nothing... Just distraction, after distraction, after distraction. I need to get the hell out of Dodge and focus for once. Where's the talent? What do I have to show for it? It's been ten years, almost eleven. Come on. You've gotta keep up. Stop doubting. Or doubt forever, I don't care right now. Be a resentful old man if you want. Be a child forever. Who cares? If you don't who will? Start saying yes. Yes Yes Yes. If you want this, just say yes. Stop fucking around kid. Remember, When in doubt, go with what you know.

I haven't had a real Christmas in who knows how long... I can't remember when we stopped getting trees to decorate. And there's the problem, no tradition. Matt complains about his family getting together once a year and spending some time together on one specific day; Christmas. Maybe one day he'll value this time shared. Then again, Matt complains about everything.

My Sister. The Lion. The Beast. She can run her mouth on and on all day to anyone about anything but, cannot hold a conversation with our mother. Cannot. Why? Because they're both stubborn like sticks. Because both my mother and my sister are equally difficult. I once thought that I couldn't match them with anyone else until I realized that they are the same. One is just younger and more hostile. The other, old, bitter, and unforgiving. I, the mediator no more. Fuck it. Leave me the fuck alone. It's already been established that I am the problem here. What do you do when you can't change someone's mind? You fuck off. So, here I am; Fucking Off. I'm done. I've tried. I've tried. I've tried. Some things in life aren't meant to be. Which I think is a valuable piece of advice. SOME THINGS IN LIFE AREN'T MEANT TO BE. I'm not wasting my time anymore. Enough of that. I'm done playing good son. I'm done playing the "Be There Ranger." Today is my day. Today is the reckoning of the damage from the past. I am a damaged man. I will walk with pride. My demons are my own. To live with. To fight. To carry on throughout my life. I am driving. I am in control. This is just a bump on the road.

New Traditions

Swallowed oxegen and I'm feeling fair. It's 8:02am, which means my alarm clock is going to sound off in 28 minutes. That is however, unless I stop it from doing so, which I plan to. Laura is asleep next to me. I've been awake for 3 maybe 4 hours now. Laura spent half an hour awake with me and then fell back into dreams. I'm trying to figure out if the spell check works on this thing. It doesn't seem to.

Anyway... It's Tuesday. Today, I have scheduled to get together with good Ol' Sam Schwartz. I know, I didn't see that coming either. We are supposed to rendevouz around 11am however, I do not have an economic means for transportation.. Therefor, I think I'll call him and have him over here. But first, (Butt First?) I have to clean up. Laura and I tend to get messy,

Sadly, these days I cannot use the phrase "Another Day, Another Dollar." Because I am still unemployed.

I was once Funemployed, which is when one is unemployed but having a good time. But, the fun has become undone. Not to say that I'm not enjoying this quality time but, I need money.

It seems to be a time of new traditions, where one cycle of familiarity ends and another begins. The other night, at Laura's birthday dinner with her family, I couldn't help but to think about the night Omar and I spent hanging out with Barry. For Laura's Birthday, we had planned to go to Chili's in Walnut Creek because it's her annual tradition. December, birthday, family dinner, Chili's. Very simple and direct. But the Chili's in Walnut Creek has closed down. For lease. Gone. Total bummer. So instead, we drove to the Chili's in Concord. I felt too quiet at the table. I just didn't want to interupt the dialogue, where ever it was. I like to observe and listen. I like to take time to relfect. I thought about Chevy's. Sitting with Barry and Omar. A totally lame scenario. Barry didn't know that many people it seemed but, when he needed help moving it seemed like he knew no one. Because no one was helping him. So Omar and I decided to. And when we finished, we thought we'd show this generous and lonley older man a good time. So, we came over after work, had some tequila, smoked some weed, and then went to Chevy's. Maybe it was because I was high. Maybe it's because I was giving up depression. Maybe it's because I was crazy. Or maybe, this is was the most depressing thing I had been apart of. Barry's situation made me think of my situation. And I don't want to end up like Barry. 50 something. Overweight. Divorced. But, it wasn't like the guy was a loser. He is a decently financially stable person. He seems very smart. I think I saw some impressive degree's while helping him pack. He wasn't going to be alone for long. He was moving to New Orleans to be with his girlfriend. He met her on a business trip. He drove over 2000 miles to find happiness and to be with his new love. So, maybe Barry had the right idea after all. Though it was strange that he asked me if I had any porn I could share with him on multiple occasions. So here I am with Laura and her family and we're having a great time at Chili's. Laura wants steak. My goodness she wants steak. I love Chili's but, i never know what to order. Everything sounds and looks so good! I usually order something close to the cheapest thing on the menu when I went out with girlfriends families. And up until recently I didn't know why. Actually, the reason why is a bit depressing. But, I digress. Tonight I thought, why not be a bit extravagant tonight and try something new? It looks good on the menu, and it certainly sounds appetizing. So I did. I ordered the Fajita Trio. Steak, chicken, and shrimp with grilled onions and bell peppers served with pico de gallo, guacamole, sour cream, and flour tortillas. Cadillac Style(Which means, for an extra ninety-nine cents you can get rice and black beans). And it was fablous. It felt good to choose something I really wanted. It felt good to be next to Laura on her birthday. It felt like something unfamiliar but, nothing strange. Like realizing how something on your body works. It just works. Take care of it, and hopefully it works for the rest of your life. Don't take care of it and you'll end up hurting in regret. I've learned many lessons. And from these lessons I've been taught many things. One thing I'll never forget; regret. I dont want to regret anything.