Wednesday, August 27, 2008

This Was Inevitable (hahaha...)

This is an open ended letter to all parents that give their toddlers and elementary school children mohawks: CUT THE SHIT OUT. You are slowly turning the mohawk into another novelty, just like the billion Che Guevara shirts that float around Middle-Class American's closets who don't know who the fuck he is or what the fuck he did.

Whats happening here is you are taking something that means a lot to people and that is sacred and butchering it up, turning it into another fad that's just gonna get thrown out and looked down on in 2-3 years. The argument here is not that children can't be "punk rock"....I personally believe that the mohawk isn't genre specific: its a social statement that transcends rock and hip-hop. When people USED to get mohawks, they didn't shave hair off their heads....it was like shaving off fleece, and letting the world know that you aren't another fucking sheep in society's flock. But what does an 8-year-old child know about a crooked society, and what does he/she have to throw up his/her middle finger against?


Bed times? Getting grounded for bad grades? Not being able to climb up the slide at recess? Eating vegetables?


This reminds me of the time when I saw some kids in downtown Santa Cruz with X's over their hands and a bandana across their neck while smoking a cigarette.

I have never had a mohawk and (to be brutally honest) can't relate, but I still have respect for the scene and the people, and feel that this is something that needs to be preserved. Oh, and I apologize if you or your little brother are sheep, too, and have mohawks for no reason...didn't mean to come off as an asshole. Don't start a war with me, go listen to Refused's "The Shape Of Punk To Come" and lets get coffee sometime. Or we can hit the bars...I dont have X's on my hands...

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Planes And Satellites Littered The Sky

Rewind to December 28th, 2007. 2:13 AM


This has to be one of the stupidest fucking things I've ever done in my life.

Its a little past midnight in Santa Cruz, California. I'm bored shitless in my room, so I put on warm clothes, grab a cigarette, and head off to the woods behind the ILC....people have been telling me about a Cat Cemetery somewhere in Upper Campus, and I'm feeling adventurous.


Half an hour later, the moths are gathering around my flashlight like children huddling around a camp fire. I'll be the first to admit that I was never good with directions, but tonight I am just completely off: I must have taken 6 or 7 wrong turns, and now I am starting to get really paranoid.



The plot thickens.


After the 7th or 8th wrong turn, I stumble across a dead deer. After examining closer, I notice that it's rib cage is ripped out through its chest, and it's entrails are mixed across the ground with mud and wet leaves. Its the darkest red imaginable, with blotches of yellow and white chunks decorating on occasion. I see flies, worms, and maggots coming out of the dead deer's jaw, hurrying about as if they were late to work. The remainders of it's family is just a few feet away.




The wind is furious tonight; as he screams his crooked notes from the top of his lungs, trees the size of skyscrapers are taking a knee and bowing their heads. My hands are turning pink. My toes are going numb. And suddenly...



!!!




I hear a moan. I hear crying. I hear a car crash on graduation night. I hear the sirens and ambulances speeding past me. I hear the door close and lock, and the sick and frightening things that follow. I hear steel clash with steel, and a single bomb drop from the Enola Gay sometime in 1945. I hear doctors telling them that there is no cure. I hear all the children in the world being told they are going to go to hell when they die. I hear the end of the world crashing down on December 28th, 2007, and the epicenter is in Santa Cruz, California. What are the odds?


I throw my cautions to the wind, but my greatest fears grow wings and take flight before my very eyes. I turn to start running as fast as I can. I cheated Death many times in my life, but Fate pays me back with a vengeance: my flashlight burns out, and I'm forced to throw it behind me. I'm putting all of my faith into the stars and the moon to give me enough light to find my way back to campus, but they are just as unreliable as the flashlight: I've mistaken the stars and the moon for airplanes and satellites, and they are moving in the opposite direction.




I trip on a branch and fall on my knee. I cover my ears, and turn around to see pitch black.






Fast Forward to August 24th, 2008 . 6:27 PM

I wake up from a nap, and I'm sweating all over. My hands are sore from gripping my sheets too tightly. Its that same nightmare. The one that plays in my head, over and over and over and over and over....


I get a glass of water, take an aspirin, and put ice on my right knee.

Friday, August 22, 2008

I'll Hold The Sun To Keep You Warm



Wherever I go, please don't forget my name. Its the only thing I can never lose, and I've worked long and hard to keep a good image associated with it. I'll be gone for a long time, and I don't plan on visiting this goddamn town again in the near future. Nothing personal, just bad memories. You were great to me, and I will never forget that. You became family...you celebrated Christmas with me in the middle of Summer because I celebrated Christmas in the waiting room of a Dental Office. You gave me inspiration to write two of the most beautiful songs I've ever written. I swear, I'll miss your warm smile...you believe me, don't you?

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Moving On A Track Of Neverending White Light

During last winter, an acquaintance that I would never speak to again gave me a present before he left my life. It was Dr. Jeckyl And Mr Hyde. He gave this to me because he said I have split personalities. It wasn't meant to piss me off, really, just a way to remember our "acquaintance-ship". I stumbed on this book today when packing and realized something that I guess I've been overlooking:



My life is morphing into a sick and twisted dichotomy, but everything is fine. Trust me on that.



For example, the pinnacle of my summer was going to a bar and then going ____ __ __ _____ __ ____ ___ ____ ___ __ _ ____ __-______ (gonna keep this rated G, ya feel me..), and the other is teaching the solo to "Old Love" by Eric Clapton to one of my more gifted students. The solo is almost 2 minutes long, and is full of hammer-ons, pull offs, tremolo, etc.

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One of the biggest turn ons for me right now is a woman who has a really good taste in music. My co-worker introduced me to Saxon Shores and This Will Destroy You, and now I want to kiss her for this.



She called today. I'm very unhappy.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

An Avalanche In Drop Db

I twisted my ankle pretty bad at work the other day, so I've been hobbling around the house and I feel restless. I had plans to go with Erica to SF to meet her older brother tomorrow, but it doesn't look like its going to happen. Erica had a day off work today, so she stayed over and we watched movies all day (word of the wise: History Of Violence is horrible, The Prestige is pretty good, Lean On Me is a classic). My ankle feels a lot better, thanks to her.


Being single is hard. I think something that a lot of people in relationships take for granted (BUT THAT I NEVER HAVE) is being able to sleep with another person. No, I'm not talking about the sex, but just to be able to hold and fall asleep with someone you really care about is an unrivaled feeling. I noticed that I still sleep with my right arm stretched out, just as if its still wrapped around someone's body. I also still sleep at the corner of the bed, like if some imaginary woman is laying next to me at night.

I guess I'm just not used to sleeping alone....


I've been playing in Drop C tuning a lot over the last few days, which is kinda rare since I pretty much converted to Drop Db a few weeks ago. Drop C is still fun, but not as dirty sounding as Db. Since my ankle is fucked and I can't go to work, I've been learning a lot of August Burns Red and Misery Signals stuff, and trying to master techiniques like forced harmonics. After noodling around for awhile, I realized that I am getting REALLY GOOD at tremolo picking and triplets.


I've been listening to:
Norma Jean - "The Anti Mother"
August Burns Red - "Messengers"
Jack's Mannequin - "The Glass Passenger"

I've been re-reading House Of Leaves. Still makes me scared to walk around in whichever house I'm living in.


Sunday, August 17, 2008

It ISNT Slander If You Never Made A Name For Yourself In The First Place, Now, Is It???

Its the same nightmare. Over, and over, and over, and over, and over. I don't really wanna talk about, I just want to announce to the world that I can't fucking sleep anymore because I hate going back to that fucking place.

There isn't really much more to say. Do you know what I learned the other day? Pray Mantis have wings. That is the nastiest shit ever....its like a shark or a fucking bear having wings. So gross.

Monday, August 11, 2008

I've Found Where Whales Go To Die, And It Is Beautiful.

"We are all in the same boat in a stormy sea, and we owe each other a terrible loyalty."
-G. K. Chesterton




I must have sat with her at the dock for hours. Our toes were dipped in the marina water, and we made choppy conversation. She lights a cigarette after the first hour, either because she is just nervous or because she wants to disappear with the smoke. I just nodded my head most of the time, but I think after awhile we just fell silent, not because we couldn't keep bullshitting, but because the Wind was singing in such a beautiful falsetto that it would have been a sin to interrupt him. Thank god she gave me a few days to move out, other women wouldn't have given me the courtesy.


I owe you one.








Well you know I hardly speak
When I do, it's just for you
I haven't said a word in weeks
Cause they've been keepin' me from you

There's a way where there's a will
You know I got no need for stairs
Step out on the window sill
Fall with me into the air

Here we go, hold on tight and don't let go
I won't ever let you fall
I love the night, flying over these city lights
But I love you most of all

Monday, August 4, 2008

Summer In Vivid Colors

On the good days, I wake up in the morning on the couch with a hummingbird singing crooked notes outside of my window. On the bad days, I wake up next to her and see the lush colors in her eyes that Roy G. Biv would be jealous of. Some mornings these eyes make me feel guilt, knowing that I'm leaving to travel the world one day and she is always going to live in this town. Some mornings you just know that its just not your bed and you will never call it yours, even though it once was.


On the really, really bad mornings, her looks are just too dirty for me, and in 2 hours her eyes will end up making me regret.





Goddamn....











Whether the morning is good or bad, there's nothing to do in this town except fix yourself breakfast, grab your guitar, and go watch the wind scalp the white off the waves in the marina.



On the good mornings, you feel like stealing off in one of these sailboats. I'll trade my guitar in for an anchor and set sail to wherever these winds would want to take me...I feel comfortable enough to put all of my faith in them. I could travel the world and fall in love overseas to a beautiful woman in Spain, or Greece, or Italy....someone with rich culture and beautiful curly hair. We could live off somewhere in an island town where I can moor my sailboat on the beach and live life carelessly...I could be so damn happy.


On the bad mornings, you realize that all of you have is the guitar on your lap and a handful of real people in your life. The woman you are with a few blocks a way is waiting for you to come back to bed, even though its almost noon. She is beautiful, but she doesn't mean a fucking thing to me at all. And this is where I am going to draw inspiration for my next few songs.

Friday, August 1, 2008

Sometimes It Feels Just Like Putting On Your Best Clothes And Asking God To Watch Over You For One More Night....

The older I get, the more I start to believe that heaven and hell is just a tall tale passed down generation to generation to scare kids into being good. I'm waiting for the day I'm pulled into a room and being told the whole scam, and that the fate of the world rests on my shoulders to follow tradition.


I also believe that the moon landing was a hoax. How the fuck are you supposed to make me believe that we were able to pull that shit off that long ago? I guess we'll get into that another time.

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I think the worst feeling on earth is _______________....sorry, noone has come up with a word that accurate describes this feeling yet. The best way to describe it....I guess its kind of like being married but not wearing your wedding ring around town. My problem is that I am crazy about too many women...any of my close friends could have told you that. So many women have caught my eye, its just too damned impossible to stay focused on you. Everyone I think is amazing is taken, LITERALLY, but, as Kim Le once told me, there are obvious reasons why they are taken.

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"Where do you go when it gets dark? And is there room for me there?"