these scabs on my hands are healing...
i really don't know how to say any of this. i miss playing music so much. it really sucks. i have been looking back on my life and the path that i am going down now and i really am unhappy with how things are going. all of the people i know at this point in their lives are figuring out what to actually DO with their lives. college, careers, alcohol...ect. i really don't have any of that. or so i thought. i never finished school, am in a dead-end job, and have really NO clue what i am to do with myself. what i do know is that i am meant to play music. for the rest of my life. with being out of a band for so long now, it actually seems like part of me is missing. this is my passion. i have no outlet for it at the moment. i just think back to this time last year... the broken promise was really going somewhere, we were writing new, provocative material. getting shows set up, and just having a really good time doing things. i realize that things weren't perfect, but really, what is? everyone is going to have differences in opinion. if you are really passionate about something, you can work through that. i understand that i let all of that go. i can be so stupid sometimes. now i see chad and matt with their new band and i am insanly jealous. this is what i want to be doing. i want to play music. i want to be on the road, doing something that i am actually 100% confident that i should be doing. but now i'm not. i'm some stupid "stock lead" at banana republic. that isn't me. i shouldn't be doing that. at all. i need to be scraping by, selling cd's out of the back seat of my car. working for three or four months at some stupid temp agency so i can go on the road for a month or two. i miss the feeling of crossing back into the minnesota border after two weeks out and the joy of seeing an exit that i actually knew. i want all of that back. why did i let my lust for sex get in the way? yeah, maybe the band was fraying at the seams, but i really brought the end to it. it then became everyones excuse to quit. funny enough, chad and i were the only ones that still wanted to go ON with the whole thing.
i haven't talked to chad much lately... maybe part of me is still ashamed for what i did. i mean, it really told me exactly what kind of person i was. someone i didn't ever want to be. i think part of me was wishing i was different. but i moved out. the band moved on. and now i am stuck with nothing. yeah, it was fun playing with pj again, but i MISS what we had before. playing for exactly two people and a sound guy in cincy. feeling like true rockstars in kane, pa. driving 23 and 1/2 hours straight from that dorm room north of charolette. i still don't remember what college that was, but the bean burgers were damn good. having to sit outside the club in arizona, only being allowed to come in and play, then be escorted out again. we went a long way from the shitty little pop-punk band that started in that little club called bon appetit. playing monday night shows at the red sea, because it was the only place we could get in to. making a record in marti and mark's basement. them trying to force those damn v-drums down our thoats. it was lots of fun while it lasted. chad, pj, austin (for one show), that creppy guy in the yellow thunderbird, matt, and all of our friends that made all of this possible. thanks. from the bottom of my heart. it really was the time of my life.
i haven't talked to chad much lately... maybe part of me is still ashamed for what i did. i mean, it really told me exactly what kind of person i was. someone i didn't ever want to be. i think part of me was wishing i was different. but i moved out. the band moved on. and now i am stuck with nothing. yeah, it was fun playing with pj again, but i MISS what we had before. playing for exactly two people and a sound guy in cincy. feeling like true rockstars in kane, pa. driving 23 and 1/2 hours straight from that dorm room north of charolette. i still don't remember what college that was, but the bean burgers were damn good. having to sit outside the club in arizona, only being allowed to come in and play, then be escorted out again. we went a long way from the shitty little pop-punk band that started in that little club called bon appetit. playing monday night shows at the red sea, because it was the only place we could get in to. making a record in marti and mark's basement. them trying to force those damn v-drums down our thoats. it was lots of fun while it lasted. chad, pj, austin (for one show), that creppy guy in the yellow thunderbird, matt, and all of our friends that made all of this possible. thanks. from the bottom of my heart. it really was the time of my life.