Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“What is love when we use it so much, say it so often, that it becomes nothing more than static waves, background noise to the nights spent yelling and screaming and drowning in this thing called love…”

Caught up, staring at the ones holding the upper hand, we find ourselves sliding off into another land, the never-mind jesters and forget-me-not winks of a foreign thought, a slight muse, a stupid, undeniably stupid dream.

~I wanted to hear something; not just words, but meaning and emotion. I wanted to be chased, but not if it meant forcing you to chase me~

I can see it clearly now; we are all simple minded creatures of habit in the end. What we have learned in the past defines who we are today. If we don’t like that, boo fucking who. Nothing can be changed, nor can anything be gained, by wishing for change. It’s a waste of time, casting out nighttime glances at the stars, as if those dead lights from a billion miles away can do anything to save a poor and pathetic life such as this.

~When we are drowning we try our best to stay afloat, but without something to hold on to, we eventually succumb to the waves. All of that effort of learning how to swim amounts to nothing but an exercise in futility. We wasted our time trying to find a way to survive the coming tide, when the real answer was much, much simpler; if you don’t want to drown, stay the fuck away from the water~

Posted in Music Mondays, My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Uncategorized

Music Mondays: Tash Sultana

It’s been quite a while since I’ve posted a music suggestion, so to kick things back up I’m starting with one of my favorite musicians to watch live. Tash Sultana, there is nothing I can say that can properly sum up the life, the energy, the passion you put into your music. This Tiny Desk Concert is especially special, with the small desk making her already larger than life act become a literal mountain of sound. In particular, her track “Notion” is some of the greatest noise I’ve ever had the pleasure of pumping into my ears.

Enjoy!

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I’m a big fan of slow Mondays. I feel like everyone is the same, just trying to get things started. It makes me think it’s not too late to start over.

I prefer sliding doors over the old fashioned 2-3 hinge models. It’s much easier to slam the latter, and while I’ve had my fair share of rage needing an outlet, it never appealed to me as a good way to vent. Why, you ask? Well, to put it simply, I hate the sound. It’s a whoosh of wind, then BAM! And it’s over. It rings for a little bit, a few milliseconds as the noise works its way into every corner and crevasse of that classic 50’s ranch style home. I hate that moment. It’s not the loudest or most annoying noise a house can produce, but it still irks me. I think it’s because the sound is trying to come off as something that demands attention, but it can’t demand a damn thing, so instead it worms its way into my ears and just sticks to whatever song or voice was already taking up my auditory receptors. See, it can’t demand shit, so it can’t drive out the sounds already in my head. No, that slamming can only latch on, like some sort of parasite. It’s a whoosh, followed by a BAM! And the moment is over. Only it’s not over. That slam is taped onto the opening guitar of Crazy Train. That whoosh is lingering in the background of the second half of Bohemian Rhapsody. That BAM is an annoying echo to every bass drum kick in Forgot About Dre. Like, I can forget Dr. Dre, but I can’t forget that goddamn annoying, dramatic, pointless, stupid, rude ass, motha fucking door slam! I don’t care if you slammed the fucking door, alright?! Slam all the fucking doors you want! Slam them, break them, who cares! You won’t ever have to see those doors again, right?! You’re slamming them and leaving, and they won’t ever have to take that abuse again! So just keep going! You want to make a scene, make me yell, make me scream bloody murder, but I won’t! I won’t even notice! Just watch, I’m going to sit here and not move a muscle, and you’ll slam those doors and leave, and I won’t ever turn around or say shit to you! I won’t say a single word! You don’t deserve my attention! You can’t demand a single fucking thing, not a God Damn THING!!! So I won’t answer that slamming door…I won’t even flinch…I’ll barely even register the noise with my headphones on and my music playing…I won’t react…Not right now…I won’t give you the satisfaction. I won’t do anything until you’re finished slamming those doors! So hurry up, get it all out! I know you’re still at it! I can still sense it, underneath my music and podcasts….in the bass lines and snare drums and lyrics…it’s there…you’re still there…you’re there…

…right?