pain.

i shouldn’t even be posting this, but i need to cry out somewhere that has the chance of being heard, even though it won’t be.

i am too much physical pain to accomplish anything i want to.  i can’t do any of the art projects i want to do.  i can’t zip music files and send them to friends, or hold up a conversation online.  i can’t play musical instruments.  i can’t really do anything if it involves my hands.  the mental anguish that results from this physical pain is one of the most excruciating things ever.  too much pain, i have to stop..

tfh #03

tfh #03 was completed today.  first musical release.  edition of 50. some copies already have preordained owners.  the rest are first come first serve.  the download code is up for grabs for anyone wants it though and doesn’t get a copy, just ask.

tfh #02 (part deux) + tfh #03

thanks to a really nice photocopier, i’ve managed to make a very nice copy of tfh #02 that will yield a small number of “copied versions” of it for a few select people.

the spark has been reignited for tfh #03 which will be tfh productions first audio release.  initially it was going to be a cassette tape with a download code, but that idea was scraped for various reasons (none having to due with the fact the producing a cassette would be useless tho).  it now appears it will be released as a drawing with a download code attached.

as well, i have an idea for tfh #04, but i make no guarantees that it will see fruition.

not where i belong

it’s breaking my heart over and over to not be in santa cruz, to not be the one place where i feel connected to a community.  somewhere small enough and big enough at the same time where i feel change can be accomplished, even though nothing will ever truly change there, at least i feel i can do something.  SOS is my heart, at least part of it, and i miss my heart.  or maybe this is all just dreaming, all just placing hope into something i can’t have, somewhere i can’t be, because that is easier than fixing what i have.  i’m guilty of spending far too much time appreciating the greener grass on the other side.  i am somewhere i never wanted to be.  it’s not terrible, and probably wouldn’t be half as bad if it wasn’t for the psychological issues in my life, but it’s not where i wanted to be, and it’s somewhere i never wanted to be.  here i go wishing for more again, wishing for something else rather than appreciating what i have.  selfish, over and over again.  who ever really gets what they want and what right do i have to deserve anything anyway.  selfish or not, i know this isn’t where i belong, but it’s where i am.  i hope the future holds brighter, i hope some things work out for me.  and i hope i find an appropriate truce with what i have no, but nothing will change the fact that right now i know i should be somewhere else…or maybe i’m just trying to wish away all my problems, as usual i’m a pre-programmed machine stuck in repetitive cyclical behavior, a self-perpetuating over drafting virus…no, no.  i’m just another human, no different than the rest and pretty words won’t change that

2

…i know i say this for purely selfish reasons, but i wish you were still here to make this process easier…

“we are your children- never learned to build…we just break”

the physical pain get’s worse every day…and soon i fear, the periods of pain will start to overwhelm the periods of time when it doesn’t hurt.  it’s blocking me from doing nearly everything i love.  i’ve already had to give up a lot, and the few things that remain…i’ll lose them soon too…and then…well, then i don’t know what i’ll do…

“so i sleep in my clothes, just in case i feel the flames touch my face, i can make my escape with grace”

i was having a conversation with a good friend of mine the other night that eventually got onto the topic of sunscreen.  this then led to a comment from, something along the lines “well, i’ll probably be dead by the time i’m 40 anyway” (or maybe it was 30?).  her response was “i hate that. i hate when other people say that, i hate when [he] says that, i hate when you say that” (not that i have a habit of saying it).  i understand where she’s coming from, she’s know a lot of self-destructive nihilistic punks, street populations, etc.

i feel my comment was coming from a different place than many of those nihilistic companions of hers though.  and i’m not saying this makes my comment any better, or worse, or more legitimate ~ i really have no point to these words other than to express some thoughts that were in my head.

i half expect/half hope to die early, though i imagine if i come anywhere close to death at a young age i will quickly change my thinking and realize how precious life is because i’ll feel i have so much to still do, and that’s fine, but for now, these are the feelings in which i am comfortable in.  one of my best friend’s dad died very suddenly when we only 18.  it was completely unexpected and an utter shock.  this developed in him, at least as far as i understand, an expectance that he would likely die early, not for any particular reason, but because there are so many random accidents in this world.  there are so many things you cannot predict and often, those unexpected accidents can be deadly.  some would find these thoughts horribly depressing, others would see them as a reason to live every day to it’s fullest and not hold back.  i’ve somewhat adopted this expectation, though not as fully, because his experience is not my experience, and my experience with death is far different.  expecting to die early has nothing to do with being a nihilistic street punk who uses heroin laced with shoe polish and strychnine though.

hoping to die early…that was probably a poor choice of words.  life scares me.  the mere fact that i will probably live another 15 years terrifies me, let alone another 30 or 50 or more years.  i can’t imagine having to live that long, to have to witness how increasingly disgusting this world and humanity become during that time, particularly since it is my belief that it will happen at an exponential rate.  as well, it means i will have to continue to watch my body slowly decay and fall apart which is easily my greatest fear.  i would like to die quickly and swiftly, in good health, as opposed to letting myself rot for 10-20 years as my muscles become sore, my internal organs stop functioning properly and some sort of cancer slowly eats away at my insides while i try to kill it by poisoning it, as well as myself.  i have witnessed the slow decay of death, i greatly wish to never experience it.  and it frightens me even more because i have felt my body greatly decay over the last 5 years.  i expected my body to be much, much stronger at 23 than it is.

tfh #02

after months of gathering subject matter and compiling it, tfh #02 was completed yesterday.  one time hand written edition of 1.  i am extremely elated to have finished this project and very pleased with how it came out.  i really enjoy the creative process, formulating the initial idea and then letting the creation unfold organically, taking on a life of it’s own.  the creative subconscious.

somnambule

“there is the person we are and the person we aspire to be.  many times it is easiest to follow what comes natural, what comes easy, and many times that is counter to the person we aspire to be.  do we do what comes easy or do what is difficult knowing it brings us closer to who we aspire to be?” ~ rob fish

these thoughts have been rolling around in my head for weeks now…and in reality, probably far longer.  i have been wanting to write about this for a long time now, but still fear the words will not come out right.  most likely, this post will come out very jumbled, with each section disconnected from the previous one.  i don’t expect to achieve the flow of words i wish to, but it stands to reason i must start somewhere.

in me, there is a huge disconnect between who i am and who i present myself to be.  more often than not, i consider myself to be a fairly depressed person (to matters more complicated, i’ve seen others in my life who extremely depressed so i wonder what right i have to even consider my depressed feelings legitimate ~ oh the trouble you get yourself into comparing your feelings to others).  i can point to a few small stretches of my history where i feel removed from this, but not many.  no one likes the depressed kid though, so i’ve created what i sometimes wonder might be an alternate persona, a facade i walk around presenting in social situations.  this is juxtaposed with the fact that when i am depressed, being around my friends is usually a pretty good solution in terms of me cheering up, at least until our activities become far to mundane and repetitive. being around friends all the time to hide me from my depressed self also prevents me from engaging with aspects of life i wish i spent more time with.  reading, writing, playing music and other creative endeavors.  and then when i make time for these activities, i generally find myself welling up with panic inside and rushing often to the comfort of my friends companionship.

there’s a disconnect between what i view as my true self, and the person i present myself as to the world around me.  i dislike who i feel i truly am.  i don’t trust that person and you probably shouldn’t either.  i worry about the harm this person will cause to the people around him.  in my eyes though, this is who i truly am and to me, this fact is not something that can not be changed.  it takes a great deal of energy to not be this person, to be a better person, a person who i feel somewhat safe letting interact with others without fearing too much for their safety and well-being.  some days i don’t have this energy.  i try to lock myself away on those days, but probably don’t as often as i should.

i am uncomfortable being me
i am uncomfortable being human
i am uncomfortable being male
i am uncomfortable being me

short of death, nothing will change the fact that i am human, that i am male and that i am me.

i feel that there was more to say, but i’ve lost it to my distraction of the internet and a phone call

“evil” by andrew jackson jihad

no one will know how evil i really am
no one will know how evil i really am

cause i like to wear disguises
and i like to disguise my plans
no one will know how evil i really am

and no one will know truly how i feel
and no one will know how i truly feel

cause i can no longer differentiate
between what is fake and what is real
i don’t know how i feel

i was born in a hospital
my first two days were spent in the care of nuns
but my mother found it in her
to go ahead and take me back
and i love her

and i will always appreciate bad days like this
because they grant me a point of reference in regards to my happiness

and although i feel cold and empty one day
i hope i can feel warm and full
stand with honor, and comfort, and dignity

tu as fait de moi un homme meilleur

“fébrile, rempli de rien, mes mains tremblent autour de ton cou.
mes mains tremblent autour de ta vie, de ton vide.
bousille moi, fais moi manger des étiquettes.
en trombe, hagard, l’écume charrie les squeletes.
en trombe, en garde, tes lèvres sont des rasoirs.
le néant diurne en parfaite symétrie avec mes soirs.
el nos vies volent en éclats, les soldats ondulent comme des rats, pointez les cannons vers le ciel, quand nous ne seront plus lá.
a quai, le sang se décharge sur les marchés, à quai, la peur du départ ronge la mariée, et si tu comptes, tu manques le pas, et si elle tombe, la mise à sac, le choléra.”

words cannot begin to describe how amazing this band is…more for the sonic landscapes it creates than the specific lyrics, but i am incapable of representing those here, in this moment