Strange times
Another year. Remarkable. And this still lives? I've been reading my old witterings, going back to the very beginning. I was certainly a wordy bastard back then. Looking at my friends' 'page now, most of the people I used to spend time batnering with just don't post anymore. It's all communities and icons and banners and twitter this and that. I can't be bothered, though I miss some of the people.
However, I want to resurrect this, or something like it. Even if I can't talk about my life, I can at least record impressions. Even a book review journal is something; arguably more interesting than life, anyway. What amuses me is goign back to those old writings from 2003, reading about things like the Hampton parties, talking about people whom I don't even remember, albums I hardly listen to anymore (not many though, I haven't changed that much at all), things that were new to me and now favourites...
And, of course, all the domestic stuff. I usually skkip over that crud. What am I getting into now? It's been a hell of a year...in some ways extremely exciting, in others not as eventful as I'd like. I eat worse, spend more money and crave very basic things...mostly sex, which always seems more appealing when it's not around but which ultimately leads to things I'm not quite willing to embrace. Still, I can't say those cravings haven't met with some success. I think I've hurt a few people as a result of..indifference...ambivalence...fear...something of the sort...and I'm genuinely sorry about that. I've been lucky, too, as so much could have blown up in my face and hasn't...yet. I owe quite a bit of capital and there will be more expenses to come. There's a lot I don't want to say because the idea of permanence makes me nervous.
Maryland Deathfest blew my mind this year. Of highlights there were so many...Pentagram, Autopsy, Asphyx, D.R.I...Sinister!!! A lot of great musical things coming up that I simply can't miss, and will deplete my funds ever further. And what of the huge decision I must make?
What's more, Demontage just got back from Michigan, where we played with the Lansing boys at Mack's Bar, whose ownership has now changed and become definitively "douchy". So much enjoyment was had, but sadly we were "too drunk to get it right", and Sauron did not even get to play. I had a great conversation with a girl about Algernon Blackwood, evangelists and crust, and another with the cutest wasted wench who kept offering me cigarettes and was possibly disappointed that I didn't speak like one of the characters from the Trailer Park Boys or Strange Brew. On the way back we spent far too much time in Detroit driving through the seediest, scummiest, filthiest areas of town. This seemed to give Mike a huge hard-on. He loves rock bottom. Poor Paul is suffering the effects of his lifestyle at last. panic attacks, nausea, a revulsion towards smoking that he doesn't actually want to feel. He tore into my abysmal drunken drum performance. Next stop, Rochester...let's do better this time.
Then there's August 20th, when the Sauron lads will come back here to play with us. A lot of people will be at this show. Angel is coming to visit. Yes, she'll be staying with me. What will this bring on? I don't know. We didn't speak properly for months and months, and when discourse was attempted the result was usually the same ole pounding my words against an immovable wall. Nevertheless, something has changed. There's no more antipathy. Just doubt...and excitement at the thought of rekindling certain things. I don't want to leap into anything and it'd be so easy for the old patterns to re-establish themselves.
Next time, more thoughts. Tomorrow, black metal. Saturday, Doctor Who and camaraderie and...
However, I want to resurrect this, or something like it. Even if I can't talk about my life, I can at least record impressions. Even a book review journal is something; arguably more interesting than life, anyway. What amuses me is goign back to those old writings from 2003, reading about things like the Hampton parties, talking about people whom I don't even remember, albums I hardly listen to anymore (not many though, I haven't changed that much at all), things that were new to me and now favourites...
And, of course, all the domestic stuff. I usually skkip over that crud. What am I getting into now? It's been a hell of a year...in some ways extremely exciting, in others not as eventful as I'd like. I eat worse, spend more money and crave very basic things...mostly sex, which always seems more appealing when it's not around but which ultimately leads to things I'm not quite willing to embrace. Still, I can't say those cravings haven't met with some success. I think I've hurt a few people as a result of..indifference...ambivalence...fear...something of the sort...and I'm genuinely sorry about that. I've been lucky, too, as so much could have blown up in my face and hasn't...yet. I owe quite a bit of capital and there will be more expenses to come. There's a lot I don't want to say because the idea of permanence makes me nervous.
Maryland Deathfest blew my mind this year. Of highlights there were so many...Pentagram, Autopsy, Asphyx, D.R.I...Sinister!!! A lot of great musical things coming up that I simply can't miss, and will deplete my funds ever further. And what of the huge decision I must make?
What's more, Demontage just got back from Michigan, where we played with the Lansing boys at Mack's Bar, whose ownership has now changed and become definitively "douchy". So much enjoyment was had, but sadly we were "too drunk to get it right", and Sauron did not even get to play. I had a great conversation with a girl about Algernon Blackwood, evangelists and crust, and another with the cutest wasted wench who kept offering me cigarettes and was possibly disappointed that I didn't speak like one of the characters from the Trailer Park Boys or Strange Brew. On the way back we spent far too much time in Detroit driving through the seediest, scummiest, filthiest areas of town. This seemed to give Mike a huge hard-on. He loves rock bottom. Poor Paul is suffering the effects of his lifestyle at last. panic attacks, nausea, a revulsion towards smoking that he doesn't actually want to feel. He tore into my abysmal drunken drum performance. Next stop, Rochester...let's do better this time.
Then there's August 20th, when the Sauron lads will come back here to play with us. A lot of people will be at this show. Angel is coming to visit. Yes, she'll be staying with me. What will this bring on? I don't know. We didn't speak properly for months and months, and when discourse was attempted the result was usually the same ole pounding my words against an immovable wall. Nevertheless, something has changed. There's no more antipathy. Just doubt...and excitement at the thought of rekindling certain things. I don't want to leap into anything and it'd be so easy for the old patterns to re-establish themselves.
Next time, more thoughts. Tomorrow, black metal. Saturday, Doctor Who and camaraderie and...