What a long strange trip it's been
It's been a long time since I've posted here. Suddenly it feels right because I have something worth writing. Heh, "Your cards ain't worth a dime if you don't lay 'em down.". I'm going to preface this with saying that, I'm scared. I'm fucking HORRIFIED. And I'm excited. And for once I have a sense of pride.
And, Jay, I noticed that you updated your journal relatively recently. I don't know how you guys feel about me, if there's pride there or not. I would understand if there isn't. I don't blame you. I don't condemn you. And I sincerely hope, I pray, that one day I have the strength to pick up the phone and talk to you. But the hard lined fact is that I'm not ready, there's nothing to say yet. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never said it, partially, I guess, because I was scared to. But I love both you and David like you were my fathers. I loved Ken, Poppie, too. I was scared to say it, even towards the end because it hurt too much to say and watch him die. My biggest regret was never letting how I felt show as it should. I'll never be able to tell him but I can tell you. As you all know music is so essential to my being, it moves me in such ways that I can't express. I feel uplifted when I speak of it, it's important, central, to me. And it's for that reason that I sometimes use music's words where mine don't do the feeling any justice. But as Raine Maida of Our Lady Peace said, "If I don't make it known that I loved you all along just like sunny days that we ignore because we're all dumb and jaded then I hope to god I figure out what's wrong." I care more than you realize, I think. I'm just scared because I don't know what to say or how to talk to either of you now that he's gone.
And while I'm talking to you I want to explain something. Job Corps? It was the single most horrifying experience in my time here. It was like shock treatment. Constantly ridiculed for being different, suddenly I felt terrible for having something going on upstairs. I was viewed as weak and in that primal cesspool lord-of-the-flies shit I was berated, threatened, and in a few cases had my ass kicked. That's why I ran the moment I could. That system had nothing to offer me other than a reality check and the means to shove everything emotional inside me down further. The flame that I had was strung up, beaten, and left to hang. I haven't written since then. I'm amazed I still play guitar. Job Corps broke me. But it did give me a few things. It gave me the start of a back-bone. And in some ways by being broken down it's given me the opportunity to build myself up again, hopefully better this time. It's taken some time. It's taken a lot of time screwing up. It's taken a lot of time being disgusted with myself, with my life.
And if you never read this, that's fine too. It felt good getting these feelings off my chest.
And, before you think this is still addressed to you, it's not. If you figure out who I'm talking to, fantastic. And, really, I don't care if you tell them I said this: I'm going to be saying the same thing again, perhaps not quite so strongly because in the moment I know my words will fail me, my tongue will stall and my heart will creep up my chest. But that's fine. I know I have the strength, the confidence, and the will.
I know you won’t understand, and that’s okay. This isn’t the path for me, this isn’t right for me. I’m finished doing what people think is right; I’m going to do what I know is right. I know, deep down, in my heart that this is the right decision. I know what I want. I know how I’m going to get it. You can either stand in my way or you can move aside nicely. I don’t care which it is. Either way, it’s time I took the reigns and drove my own life. This is my life, and I’m going to do with it what I know I need to. Yes, college is important, there’s no disputing that. But I need to go for the right reasons. I don’t regret going this time, I learned a lot. However, just like Job Corps, it wasn’t from the system I learned but from personal experience. I know what I must do. I know what I have to do. For once in my life I know what I’m doing, what I’m feeling. Everything is right there, it’s in my grasp, I can feel it. It’s so close, I can taste it. I vowed that I wouldn’t wear my father’s dog tag until I felt like I’m someone he could be proud of. This isn’t it. This isn’t it but this is a step in the right direction, I feel. This is my life, not yours or anyone elses. I’ve made my decision, -my- -decision-. My Choice. My path. And you don’t scare me. You don’t intimidate me. Kick me out, I don’t care. I will survive. Because in me is a fire that burns hotter than you even know. Than you can even fathom. It used to be brighter when I was younger, more innocent, before it had a chance to be tread upon. Before life got a hold of me. But you know what? I used to listen to that burning desire, that passion, that feeling that gave my life meaning. And this, this right here, right now. This is me listening. This is me having faith in myself, in my craft, in the god damn world. You know how I know? This world works in funny, funny, ways. I made my decision a while ago, and not without thought, don’t you ever think it wasn’t without thought. I think. And think. And Think. I’m a lot better at thinking than doing. I knew that I was leaving. I knew I was doing this, no matter what happened. This was happening. And in the moment of my deepest, darkest fear, my life was crumbling all around me as the day drew closer to when I knew I had to break the news to you. In that darkest moment, something beautiful happened. Several beautifuls happened, really. Like a switch suddenly everything was in perspective. It was like I was standing back away from my life, observing it. It was like I had a moment of absolute clarity. I suddenly knew what was important to me, what mattered to me. What made me tick. It was liberating, it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Suddenly I was at peace with the idea of leaving. And then my phone rang; a friend long since gone contacted me. We patched things up between us, he helped me further develop my own feelings and suddenly, all at once. A job practically fell into my lap. A job. What I need to move on. To grow. A job. The moment that I come to terms with my decision and I have the courage, the strength, to stand on my own for what I believe in, for what I want with my life, the way to get it opens up. I’m not particularly religious, but I have my beliefs. And I believe that this is a sign to proceed. It’s time to stop living to die and to start dying to live.
P.S. Shit fuck ass cock. I realized this post was very heavy and I think I swore only a total of twice and that's not really right. You know why? I don't need to swear that much because I'm actually an intelligent individual that knows the power words have. I swear so that those words don't have meaning because I know the right ones can be so concise and hit their mark with more accuracy than Simo Häyhä. If I could send a song back to myself two years ago as a message to myself it would be this one:
I'm giving up on you
How could I ever call you mine?
You're too pretty, too simple, too easy
You're just a waste of time, yeah.
And I won't miss you when you're gone
You never move me anyway
I wanna wish you all the best and send you off
I hope somebody finds you entertaining.
You're the song I hate
But I can't let go.
You're the song I hate
But I can't let go.
You know it gets so hard
So hard to keep moving on
Through all your petty little changes.
Sometimes I wish I could just
Close my eyes; wish you away.
You're the song I hate
But I can't let go.
You're the song I hate
You're the song I, you're the song I, You're the song I,
Song I hate.
I tried so hard to change you,
To make you something I could enjoy.
But you insist on just acting the plaything
You're just a toy. Just a toy.
You're the song I hate
But I can't let go.
You're the song I hate.
But I can't let go.
You're the song I, you're the song I, you're the song I,
You're the song I hate.
But I can't let go.
You're the song I hate
But I can't let go.
The song I hate.
You're the song I hate.
It's not perfect, but it gets it's message across.
And, Jay, I noticed that you updated your journal relatively recently. I don't know how you guys feel about me, if there's pride there or not. I would understand if there isn't. I don't blame you. I don't condemn you. And I sincerely hope, I pray, that one day I have the strength to pick up the phone and talk to you. But the hard lined fact is that I'm not ready, there's nothing to say yet. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never said it, partially, I guess, because I was scared to. But I love both you and David like you were my fathers. I loved Ken, Poppie, too. I was scared to say it, even towards the end because it hurt too much to say and watch him die. My biggest regret was never letting how I felt show as it should. I'll never be able to tell him but I can tell you. As you all know music is so essential to my being, it moves me in such ways that I can't express. I feel uplifted when I speak of it, it's important, central, to me. And it's for that reason that I sometimes use music's words where mine don't do the feeling any justice. But as Raine Maida of Our Lady Peace said, "If I don't make it known that I loved you all along just like sunny days that we ignore because we're all dumb and jaded then I hope to god I figure out what's wrong." I care more than you realize, I think. I'm just scared because I don't know what to say or how to talk to either of you now that he's gone.
And while I'm talking to you I want to explain something. Job Corps? It was the single most horrifying experience in my time here. It was like shock treatment. Constantly ridiculed for being different, suddenly I felt terrible for having something going on upstairs. I was viewed as weak and in that primal cesspool lord-of-the-flies shit I was berated, threatened, and in a few cases had my ass kicked. That's why I ran the moment I could. That system had nothing to offer me other than a reality check and the means to shove everything emotional inside me down further. The flame that I had was strung up, beaten, and left to hang. I haven't written since then. I'm amazed I still play guitar. Job Corps broke me. But it did give me a few things. It gave me the start of a back-bone. And in some ways by being broken down it's given me the opportunity to build myself up again, hopefully better this time. It's taken some time. It's taken a lot of time screwing up. It's taken a lot of time being disgusted with myself, with my life.
And if you never read this, that's fine too. It felt good getting these feelings off my chest.
And, before you think this is still addressed to you, it's not. If you figure out who I'm talking to, fantastic. And, really, I don't care if you tell them I said this: I'm going to be saying the same thing again, perhaps not quite so strongly because in the moment I know my words will fail me, my tongue will stall and my heart will creep up my chest. But that's fine. I know I have the strength, the confidence, and the will.
I know you won’t understand, and that’s okay. This isn’t the path for me, this isn’t right for me. I’m finished doing what people think is right; I’m going to do what I know is right. I know, deep down, in my heart that this is the right decision. I know what I want. I know how I’m going to get it. You can either stand in my way or you can move aside nicely. I don’t care which it is. Either way, it’s time I took the reigns and drove my own life. This is my life, and I’m going to do with it what I know I need to. Yes, college is important, there’s no disputing that. But I need to go for the right reasons. I don’t regret going this time, I learned a lot. However, just like Job Corps, it wasn’t from the system I learned but from personal experience. I know what I must do. I know what I have to do. For once in my life I know what I’m doing, what I’m feeling. Everything is right there, it’s in my grasp, I can feel it. It’s so close, I can taste it. I vowed that I wouldn’t wear my father’s dog tag until I felt like I’m someone he could be proud of. This isn’t it. This isn’t it but this is a step in the right direction, I feel. This is my life, not yours or anyone elses. I’ve made my decision, -my- -decision-. My Choice. My path. And you don’t scare me. You don’t intimidate me. Kick me out, I don’t care. I will survive. Because in me is a fire that burns hotter than you even know. Than you can even fathom. It used to be brighter when I was younger, more innocent, before it had a chance to be tread upon. Before life got a hold of me. But you know what? I used to listen to that burning desire, that passion, that feeling that gave my life meaning. And this, this right here, right now. This is me listening. This is me having faith in myself, in my craft, in the god damn world. You know how I know? This world works in funny, funny, ways. I made my decision a while ago, and not without thought, don’t you ever think it wasn’t without thought. I think. And think. And Think. I’m a lot better at thinking than doing. I knew that I was leaving. I knew I was doing this, no matter what happened. This was happening. And in the moment of my deepest, darkest fear, my life was crumbling all around me as the day drew closer to when I knew I had to break the news to you. In that darkest moment, something beautiful happened. Several beautifuls happened, really. Like a switch suddenly everything was in perspective. It was like I was standing back away from my life, observing it. It was like I had a moment of absolute clarity. I suddenly knew what was important to me, what mattered to me. What made me tick. It was liberating, it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Suddenly I was at peace with the idea of leaving. And then my phone rang; a friend long since gone contacted me. We patched things up between us, he helped me further develop my own feelings and suddenly, all at once. A job practically fell into my lap. A job. What I need to move on. To grow. A job. The moment that I come to terms with my decision and I have the courage, the strength, to stand on my own for what I believe in, for what I want with my life, the way to get it opens up. I’m not particularly religious, but I have my beliefs. And I believe that this is a sign to proceed. It’s time to stop living to die and to start dying to live.
P.S. Shit fuck ass cock. I realized this post was very heavy and I think I swore only a total of twice and that's not really right. You know why? I don't need to swear that much because I'm actually an intelligent individual that knows the power words have. I swear so that those words don't have meaning because I know the right ones can be so concise and hit their mark with more accuracy than Simo Häyhä. If I could send a song back to myself two years ago as a message to myself it would be this one:
I'm giving up on you
How could I ever call you mine?
You're too pretty, too simple, too easy
You're just a waste of time, yeah.
And I won't miss you when you're gone
You never move me anyway
I wanna wish you all the best and send you off
I hope somebody finds you entertaining.
You're the song I hate
But I can't let go.
You're the song I hate
But I can't let go.
You know it gets so hard
So hard to keep moving on
Through all your petty little changes.
Sometimes I wish I could just
Close my eyes; wish you away.
You're the song I hate
But I can't let go.
You're the song I hate
You're the song I, you're the song I, You're the song I,
Song I hate.
I tried so hard to change you,
To make you something I could enjoy.
But you insist on just acting the plaything
You're just a toy. Just a toy.
You're the song I hate
But I can't let go.
You're the song I hate.
But I can't let go.
You're the song I, you're the song I, you're the song I,
You're the song I hate.
But I can't let go.
You're the song I hate
But I can't let go.
The song I hate.
You're the song I hate.
It's not perfect, but it gets it's message across.