Saturday, July 31, 2010

considering adoption

Soooo, in a blur of dark folk music the past 7 months and, the songs i've been writing recently in it's presence, i've decided to buy a violin... A cheap, good-for-nothing one that will probably break the first week i have it.
It's $40 for a piece of shit that will make all of my dreams come true. I looked around at banjo's (coveted for 3.5 years now!) and still, they're more than i'm willing to throw down in times of a dry money well.
So between my grandparent's piano, a violin, my ukulele and my guitar, i'm hoping to make some magic happen.
Buuuuuut, we'll see.
I have a feeling that i really will grow in to the eccentric that lives in a studio apartment with 9 cats, 39 intruments and, a typewriter.
I fear i will not be missed until i'm dead.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

reckless ramblings

Last night, i went through pages and pages of a person i used to be. A person that no longer exist; that will never exist again. I have so much evolved from being that person but, that person still felt so much, had so many opinions, had an entire life that no longer breathes. It's more of an art, living. For the present is the only point in which we exist. The future does not nor does the past. We live on assumptions. On the assumption that tomorrow will bring only one outcome from preset outcomes mentally logged from previous experience. You create actions based on the same set of presets. Experience is only a mental notepad to later reference when you find yourself at a similar crossroad or quandry. Opportunity to belive a different, new, fresh outcome is possible only happens after it's already happened once.
We grow in to our patterns. We create mental patterns and run trails in the grass with them.
And though we change, our patterns alway seem to find proper footing in our new skin. I know, somehow, that when this person no longer exists, that the patterns will.
i am simply a fleshy brain who takes mental pictures and remembers them. Who is aware of their existence. Who can calculate outcomes. Who uses numberless math, the language of the universe but, is asked to deny this and believe in god because HE created it.
I do not create myself? Free will and fate cannot coexist. I am a mess of thoughts with no structure. A circle in my brain does not blance out in likeness of topic, it's more like a spiral. Shaving the tips off of random thoughts and compiling them into gibberish like this.
When i land in their soft bedding, perhaps i'll be warm with reason and sense and come to better conclusions than those blotted in journal after journal of neurotic theory and observation. And maybe then, i'll no longer feel the need to keep them shut away and burried beneath dusty boxes. Because this is my only footprint in this world. My words, my theories and my life. This is the only documentation of my existence other than the marble stone i'll eventually be rewarded with.
Please, think me not morbid for i am not. i am only skating across the preset outcomes of an individuals life.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Human Again

My thoughts have returned. Here i am, 4 days sober and i feel my brain sucking in deep breaths of fresh air and dusting off old thoughts, old ambitions, old habits of the person i once truly enjoyed being. And i thought hollowing out would be a better shell for my insecurity but, it turns out that i was never really insecure. I was just confused. And here i go again, working on ways to becoming the person i envision myself becoming because, i want to be that person so badly and right now, the two contrasting persons i am are nowhere close to finding a balance. I'm either one or the other. I'm loud, arrogant, peppy, talkative Whitney or i'm quiet, pensive, serious, intelligent Whitney with thoughts behind thoughts. But all of my visual and audible portrals are simply falsehoods to the person that lies beneath them. Layer behind false layer of a person who has seemingly got her shit together. But really, i'm still scrambling around picking up scraps and building a model of the perfect human being. And at least now, with everything out of my system, i feel myself clearing the wooded path and walking with more sun light.
What a numbing hell it's been. To feel nothing is to be nothing and to be nothing is a waste of being something. My life is full of what it needs to be full of. Love, music, words, sadness, happiness, beauty, romance and kindness. The key elements to the nature of my character in this life. I will be more but, for now, that's enough to scrape by on. I'm only 24, after all.

Monday, July 26, 2010

babble-on

I feel empty lately. Not in a sense that i'm miserable and incomplete. More in a sense that i've had no true fulfillment in any emotion in a while. I know, i either complain about all of my emotions to strong or not being strong enough. I don't really mean to complain but, it seems i can find no middle ground that suits me. Something is never enough. The true nature of any woman i suppose.
My love for dark folk music has increased tremendously and the ability to capture the nature of it's harmonies on my guitar has developed even more so.
With that in mind, i guess there is fulfillment. But it still feels kind of hollow.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

more circles

So, i've decided to quit smoking. At lunch yesterday with my dad for his bday, i saw a waitress smoking and she looked disgusting and i decided that it was time to work towards my goal of quitting smoking by 25. Well, each day is closer to 25 and i'm up to at least 2 packs a week. I don't want to look as disgusting as this woman did. She was overweight, unhealthy, unattractive and the cigarette didn't help. Plus, i'm not going to lie that vanity has nothing to with it, i'd like to age well like my mother and grandmother. I already look 18 yrs old at 24, so i know i've got the genes.
In other tedious updates; i called about a house sitting job advertized in the paper and through a brief set of questions was asked my height and weight. Um, huh?
I didn't relaize you could legally ask people that question. I guess it's okay to discriminate when it's your own money? And the man that called wasn't even the owner of the home, he was someone who worked for them. My great luck.
Still confused on what to do with my life and idling in that strange murkiness pre-big decision. Why is starting your life on the right path so difficult? I thought figuring out what you truly wanted to do was the hard part? But now that i know, everything is more confusing. I guess because i see all that's pulling me away from it and can't seem to set it right. I thought mid-twenties was supposed to be the time of my life. I just feel like i've done nothing and all the time i've been doing what i want has only landed me in the field of late bloomers and the colors are faded :(
I'm not bored, just impatient.
Hurry up!

Saturday, July 10, 2010

this is how i SEE music.

"Emperor" by Beethoven still remains my most beloved piece of music ever composed. I've written about this one song more times than i care to count and yet, it never seems to change, never seems to get tiresome. The feeling of euphoria and sadness wrapped in it's harmonies never falters inside of me. i love music so much i cry from it's passion. I do, i cry because it loves me back to the depths of which i love it. The beauty of my gift with words is that i'm able to explain the beauty of other's gifts. Like Beethoven. No music has ever talked to me the way his does. I have cried in communication with his harmonies and have felt love to depths of which i can not describe. I have loved music more than i have ever loved any human being for it does not judge, only comforts. And it's always been there. Nothing has ever understood me like music or empowered me like muisc. My appreciation for life has derived from music.
If i could allow you to glimpse in to my mind, surely you'd see how beautiful all things are. How wonderful life is but, i can not. This silly blog shows nothing, my real thoughts remain hidden in journals and scraps of paper saved in boxes but mostly, it's all in my mind. In things i see and hear, in beautiful and awful things i bear witness to. It's all painted on some invisible canvas that you could never truly see. I wish... i wish i could just say the wonderful things i think and feel and be taken seriously but, it seems no one is ever willing to listen. Not in a self-pity way but, in a basic observation of the majority of the human body being self-centered. It's okay. :)
This is my gift:
"Emperor" by Beethoven is exactly 7 minutes and 31 seconds long. The first time i heard the song, time elapsed mental images of life from the beginning of time until buildings and traffic and iphones flew past me. But in a form not derived from sadness. This one piece of music mocks the greatest feelings of passion, sadness, joy and anger and pulls you in each of those directions at once. It mocks life in it's short lived beauty. Of being up and down and confused and even matches a point in life of a feeling of perfection. The whole song builds up to a 10 seconds window which employs all of those emotions at once. But it's so cleverly done to match something to which i truly cannot describe. It's love but, of all things, not for a single person.
Through minutes 5:08-5:18, something happens in your chest and slowly washes over your entire body. Every emotion to it's extreme runs in your veins but, it feels euphoric. To understand a meaning beyond words, to understand harmonies in a language you can't reply in. To understand life in harmonies. That's what it does.
You live your whole life for one moment; one moment you build up inside of yourself and once you reach it; it feels like those 10 seconds. What rests before it is only what took it to get there and nothing will ever be as beautiful afterwards. It's life mashed down into 7 minutes and 31 seconds with 10 seconds of perfection. And stretched across a wider scale of say, of 80 years, that's about what it amounts to.
The song is so simple yet it's "words" so complex. How do you do that? How did he, a deaf man, understand life in that language and then explain it so beautifully?
My gift is in words but i understand that language much better.

Odd Happenings

So i woke up, ran my errands, pooped and sat down to eat my breakfast sandwhich. I turned on the TV to watch while i ate and guess what was on a "Revolutionary Filmakers" show?
Harold and Maude!!!!! Holy shit, after listening to Albert Hammond Jr. and feeling butterflies this morning and now people are talking and worshiping my favorite film ever. You cannot imagine my delight! You really cannot!
I've been watching the movie by bits and pieces between breaks at work and before i go to bed on my ipod for the past month now. Not to mention drowning in Cat Stevens gloriousness for 2 months.
Sigh. i feel good :)

Friday, July 09, 2010

i miss my bff :(

So Rose is stuck in Cali due to the riots. :(
It's only been 4 days and i miss her terribly. How do women create that bond? That mental balance between one another? I think alot of it has to do with our lives running semi-parallel but, it's also the fact that we've been friends for 10 years and know each other like we know ourselves. Gar!
She's kind of my main soical life. I've hung out with her everday for two weeks and she's stayed over almost all of those nights and we've kept each other in great company.
Gar!
I miss muh friend!

Thursday, July 08, 2010

fixin' the hole in my head

Know what's awesome about the new me (as of the past few months at least)?
The ablity to be me. The ablity to not stew in shit and the letting go of the fear that's held me back for so long. I wish i could explain it. I know it also has alot to do with the people i choose to call my friends but, they're my friends due to the way i present myself as well. who cares anyway? no one reads this.

Monday, July 05, 2010

something to update?

So i've been making sure my journal stays full of the status of my brain. The past few days are all jumbled up inside of it's pretty binds but, i guess it will eventually mean something to someone more than just me... hopefully... some day.
i can't believe i'm actually following through on a book. I've always flaked out on them but, i've always used false characters with no real qualities, only extentions of my own fucked up personality.
it never occured to me that i might actually be interesting enough to write about. It's nothing like the virtual pages you find here in my uncharming life, it's different when i know no one can see it. it's like stage fright but with words.
hopefully you can understand.

Friday, July 02, 2010

poem with an explanation

In sleep-
i find thoughts i hide in wake
In wake-
i think of what i hide in slumber
The in between keeps thoughts in position
Ignite the piston
For the brain never truly lets it's lids down

Of a recent narcotics spreee in which i'm writing my first book (for serious this time fellas)i have found that the feelings i cling so deeply to, that i appreciate so much - that in thier absence is something great too - numbness.
But at then, the point to ask yourself; to ask myself:
the thing so kind about the numbness is the fact that we are able to compare it to the pain of the depths of the things we so greatly take for granted. i will never want to become some numbed narcotic addict, i simply want to write a book.
Like all writers do. A book for people to understand, a book for people to say, "yes, i too am that person at times".
Because between the numbness and the deep penetrating feelings that i've lived with for so long, the greater is the fact that i'm able to feel so much.
the numbness is simply a sleep for my thoughts, the point of the poem.
I need a break from my thoughts. not that i don't love them, i never want them to leave me but, just because you love your family doesn't mean you want to be around them all the time.
I accept the judgement and the hypocricy that have so kindly brandished before ye all. But if you too, are a thinker, you'll be kind enough to sympathize with the pain of a brain that never sleeps.
And the nap is a long needed companion.
My happiness lies in the fact that i am able to understand that i can feel so much becaues the narcotics numb them out so much. It's like being in the black and white but knowing that the colors are greater, just a bit too bright sometimes.
I hope that helps a bit - my ramblings are a bit incoherent at times.

And as a side note: unless you're battered by your thoughts constantly, stay away from all narcotics, that's the best advice i have. Becaues unless you truly love and appreciate your thoughts, you will become addicted and it's a sad place to be without all the wonderful things we're truly capable of feeling.

Time to enjoy life :)

stage 4 of shitiness

So yesterday, i found out my grandmother has stage 3 lung cancer where it had previously NOT been 3 months prior. So, needless to say, she's pretty sick. She's too weak for kemo so they're attempting radiation but, apparently it's the type of cancer that comes back and since it spreads so rapidly, it's likely it will come back.
I haven't seen her in a good 6 months at best but, i remember summer childhoods being the best part of my life when i was there with her and she's the only one i have to remember them with, so then who do i have to recall the hilarious stories with?
And she only lives an hour away but i never take time out of my self-centered life to go see her. And it happened to me; those feelings of regret and the "why didn't i's?"
but i'm so fortunate i still have time to do those things because damn, if only i could explain what a stubborn, independent woman she is. And she's always told me and everyone shamelessly that i'm her favorite grandchild.
And the funny thing is, she's been worried about me after i had called my mom crying last saturday from all the stress i've been under with two jobs and a shitty boyfriend.
Please, someone, tell me what i'm supposed to do because spending time with her just doesn't seem like enough.

Thursday, July 01, 2010

on the wagon

there is a feeling that happens in my belly that i can no longer coexist with.
Not anymore.
i have decided to start my first real book about things i actually know about.
Music, relationships, narcotics and psychology.
Sure, it's been done before. But it's not an attempt to somehow paint an image of some drug-binged relationship whore, no.
It's more about the psychology of relationships and how narcotics and women are like sex, drugs and rock n' roll; a perfect blend.
So i guess it's sort of autobiographical but, not intentionally. Only because it's something i can write about from first hand experience. And dedications? Miss Rose, Abbie Hoffman and, David Bazan.
My hereos.
Oh and how does music come in to it all?
It just always does. It's just that important.