I don't have anything to say, really. Just wanted to let you know that there is still blood pumping through my arteries. So I guess that qualifies me as being alive. :)
This weekend was a bit of a roller coaster. Nothing happened on Friday, so I played computer games most of the night. This was fine and fun, since I didn't get to play much at all the week prior. I woke up at noon on Saturday, a sign of sleep deprivation from earlier in the week. That's becoming the norm, which is also fine. In some strange way it helps me feel alive, I think because I'm not on a regular schedule. Saturday night Sarah and I went to go see The Jarts. They are an exceedingly talented band, and I hope they continue to make music as well crafted as what they've already got. Their current rough recordings on MySpace really don't do them justice at all.
I don't go to many music shows anymore, although it isn't really on purpose. I like going, but I also really don't like going to music shows. They make me feel horribly self-conscious, inadequate, and jealous. I think about what people think about me sitting there, I compare myself to the musicians playing (I'm usually either better than them or will never be), and I wish I was someone more motivated to pursue things and finish them. It doesn't matter that these things don't make sense or are untrue or are irrelevant. It's just where I live while I'm there. The good part of me going to shows is that in most cases I walk away with a renewed sense of "I could do that" or at least "I want to do that," and usually one new batch of lyrics, good or bad.
I do really like to go see music though, because if it's good, it takes me somewhere else. To that place where I wish I could live all the time, where things are important and meaningful and honest. Transcendent is a good word for it. In some stupid way it feels like a more accurate representation of life itself, every moment pulsing, distilled from what we're normally caked with.
In other news, I am feeling angry and alone, and had weird, restless sci-fi dreams last night. And the response I can normally expect from the people I wish would help me is a pitiless, "Get over yourself. Deal with your own problems." And this makes me feel more angry and alone.
I wish Liz was in Athens for a bit, or Jessi M formerly D. Those two in particular are excellent for beers and bitching. In a healthy sort of way.
Also, I find myself liking Freezepop, the result of playing Guitar Hero 2.
3 comments:
do you want me to tell you to get over yourself?
or you and your wife could come over for dinner tonight or Tuesday.
i, also, slept until noon on saturday. i would call it one of my guilty pleasures, except i don't feel any guilt.
when i see you at a music show, i think, "hey, cool. patrick's here!" and, well. that's about it. just for the record.
i feel angry and alone more often than i'd like. more likely than not, it's for different reasons than you, but still, there it is. maybe you need to choose different people from which to wish help.
i got nothin for ya on the weird sci-fi dreams though. sorry.
by the way: is this titled for a far side reference?
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