honest entry
Ok, so this is called the honest entry, one of my most stubborn attempts to clearly sum things up, currently.
Life is not bad, but sometimes it seems like so many people spend their time wasting it. I myself do it, and I think that's why I've been so depressed this past while. But there was this one morning. It was a morning that I do believe was a wednesday during what my roommate and I refer to, appropriately might I add, as "the long week."
Before I speak of the long week, my roommate and I had been pretty disenchanted with college, finding very little will to do much of anything other than get high or drunk. We've had some great conversations and I think we both have progressed greatly in how we view art, music, and thinking in general, but it's becoming clearer and clearer that what has gone from this wildfire of what seemed like almost unending enlightenment and laughter and exuberance had become a shitty hangover. A nasty day-after that'll never end. Even if I cleaned the room (which is in complete and disgusting disarray), I would still useless, dirty and I couldn't find a more appropriate word for hungover.
At any rate. To ignore what had become very apparently a stupid and radical abandonment towards any sort of amibition for comfort or anything much at all, me and Drew started drinking a lot. Just all the time. When we ran out of liquor (always liquor, quicker!) we would get some more as soon as possible, and I would go crazy when I was drunk, which was most of the time. I was probably at my most self-destructive at that point, looking forward to the next blackout whenever possible. When I black out I become a demonic alter-ego that Ian coined (and I constantly recoin, as you can see) as "Jackie Boy." Spitting everywhere, pissing on the floor, headbutting stuff, stripping outside, yelling aimless and abrasive obscenities, and not giving half a fuck, without consciousness I am Mr. Hyde. Now, you might think, "well Clint, that's you when you're drunk, it changes people," and while that is to quite a degree of truthfulness, I did prefer to spend my time as Jackie Boy in favor of a temporary stroll through oblivion. My friends, dear as they are, were innocents witnessing a side of me that I never wanted to admit to having.
But every morning or afternoon I would wake up feeling energized and it was like that bad part of me had went away. I even tried writing lyrics again and even felt the need to change people, especially myself, for the better. One morning (remember that morning I was talking about at the beginning) I woke up and I didn't even feel the need to drink, there was not any Jackie Boy left to let out, or something, I have no idea, but I was inspired by nothing other than being alive. I wrote a song that day alongside Ian and then another alongside Forrest and we sang a bunch of songs together and it did a lot for me, I had faith in what we were doing with music and decided that I only felt good when I was trying to think of more songs. This lasted for three days which were the Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of the long week. I had released my demons through alcohol and now I was running like a man-obsessed on my ideas alone. But on that Friday night, well, this is getting kinda long, I'll continue it later.
Life is not bad, but sometimes it seems like so many people spend their time wasting it. I myself do it, and I think that's why I've been so depressed this past while. But there was this one morning. It was a morning that I do believe was a wednesday during what my roommate and I refer to, appropriately might I add, as "the long week."
Before I speak of the long week, my roommate and I had been pretty disenchanted with college, finding very little will to do much of anything other than get high or drunk. We've had some great conversations and I think we both have progressed greatly in how we view art, music, and thinking in general, but it's becoming clearer and clearer that what has gone from this wildfire of what seemed like almost unending enlightenment and laughter and exuberance had become a shitty hangover. A nasty day-after that'll never end. Even if I cleaned the room (which is in complete and disgusting disarray), I would still useless, dirty and I couldn't find a more appropriate word for hungover.
At any rate. To ignore what had become very apparently a stupid and radical abandonment towards any sort of amibition for comfort or anything much at all, me and Drew started drinking a lot. Just all the time. When we ran out of liquor (always liquor, quicker!) we would get some more as soon as possible, and I would go crazy when I was drunk, which was most of the time. I was probably at my most self-destructive at that point, looking forward to the next blackout whenever possible. When I black out I become a demonic alter-ego that Ian coined (and I constantly recoin, as you can see) as "Jackie Boy." Spitting everywhere, pissing on the floor, headbutting stuff, stripping outside, yelling aimless and abrasive obscenities, and not giving half a fuck, without consciousness I am Mr. Hyde. Now, you might think, "well Clint, that's you when you're drunk, it changes people," and while that is to quite a degree of truthfulness, I did prefer to spend my time as Jackie Boy in favor of a temporary stroll through oblivion. My friends, dear as they are, were innocents witnessing a side of me that I never wanted to admit to having.
But every morning or afternoon I would wake up feeling energized and it was like that bad part of me had went away. I even tried writing lyrics again and even felt the need to change people, especially myself, for the better. One morning (remember that morning I was talking about at the beginning) I woke up and I didn't even feel the need to drink, there was not any Jackie Boy left to let out, or something, I have no idea, but I was inspired by nothing other than being alive. I wrote a song that day alongside Ian and then another alongside Forrest and we sang a bunch of songs together and it did a lot for me, I had faith in what we were doing with music and decided that I only felt good when I was trying to think of more songs. This lasted for three days which were the Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of the long week. I had released my demons through alcohol and now I was running like a man-obsessed on my ideas alone. But on that Friday night, well, this is getting kinda long, I'll continue it later.