I’m taking W’s

I just emailed my advisor to ask if I actually need to take this creative writing class in order to graduate or not. Looking at my program of study, it really looks like I don’t fucking need it, and if that’s actually the case, I’m going to drop that shit, like… tomorrow… like a hot ass burning ass flaming ass potato. Still, even though I’m pretty sure, I’m going to wait to hear from her before dropping it, just in case, because I really don’t want to ruin everything by being impatient. But yeah, if I can drop it, I’m totally going to drop it. I’ll take that W, and I’ll get on with my life. I have a fucking month long exam to take, that’s basically like another class in and of itself, plus my dissertation and my other exam, just… fuck it man. I’d rather put my creative energies toward making music at this point anyway, and not into trying to please the sensibilities of one particular pretentious old dude.

I’m going to Taos on Tuesday, with my mom and my brother. I really don’t want to, honestly, especially because of how much shit I have to do, and how limited my time feels, but it’s something that my mom really wants, and it’s really the least I can do, considering how much she does for me, and how much she wants to do for me. She’s literally trying to sell this condo so that she can help me with a down payment for a house, so like… the least I can fucking do is go up there with her, and help her take the stuff that she wants to keep, and just… be there for her. It’s the least I can fucking do, and really I’m a selfish, ungrateful asshole for feeling like I don’t want to go. (but I still feel like I don’t want to go)  I don’t want to do the 2 1/2 hour drive twice in two days, I don’t want to sleep on a weird pallet thing in a weird place, I don’ t want to spend one of the only 2 nights this week that I *for sure* don’t have a tour away from home. I don’t want to leave my S.O., ((my fiancee)), for a variety of complex reasons that frankly aren’t the internet’s business. But I’m going to go, because it’s the right thing to do, and I have to live my life, you know? yeah. It’s such a small thing, like really, in the scheme of things, but it sure is stressing me right the fuck out, hardcore stress on stress stressing me the fuck out.

Aaaaaaaaaaanyway, I should really go the fuck to sleep now. I was supposed to be working on my C.W assignment, but now I’m pretty dang sure I’m guna drop that shit, so I stopped working on it, and I’ll finish it up tomorrow real quick and dirty style if it turns out I can’t drop it. Time for bed. peace.




Today is my last day to be in my 20s. Holy shit. I honestly have no idea how to mentally… deal with that. Like… age is just a number, or whatever, but it’s a number that affects me. Numbers have meanings and it’s a meaningful number. I feel like I should do something special with this day, mourn or celebrate, destroy or create, but I don’t have any plans (or any money lol) and I might have to do a tour in the night time. I find it un-fucking-believable, in a way, that I’m actually this old. It doesn’t feel real. Honestly? I’m afraid. That’s the real truth of what I’m feeling. I’m afraid. Afraid to be 30, afraid that where I’m at in life right now isn’t good enough, afraid for the future. Three decades, I’ll have been alive. It’s so little and so much, how is it both? It’s happening and happening either way, so I need to find a way to make peace with it. I’m trying to come up with a fun activity to do on my actual birthday. It’s as much about my family as it is about me, really, and I want to make it fun for them. (I don’t want them to know that I’m afraid) I want to fill my heart with love, so that those I love can feel it radiating from the core of my being. If my body is a temple, I want only to become the master of my own domain. One way or another. It’s time for me to go to bed. Peace. See you on the other side.


One paper done and submitted. One left to go, due tomorrow. (but I have a tour tomorrow night so I have to finish it before that) And this one is for my super annoying picky as fuck professor who likes to give me shit and fuck with my grades over tiny little formatting errors, while simultaneously praising my mastery of the material. *sarcastic thumbs up emoji* So I’m sort of more nervous about this one than I was about the longer one because basically this paper is prrrobably going to decide whether I get an A or B in the class. That shit makes me nervous. I have a lot of feelings. Like… dude. Feelings all up in this fucking piece. The skin around my eyes feels sore and raw. It’s very distracting when your brain plays worst case scenarios on an endless loop in the background of all of your thoughts constantly forever. It makes it really hard to get shit done, honestly. Also, fuck Tennessee Williams, honestly. I fucking know that being alive is a horrifying experience, and that the illusions we cling to can never truly save us from that sense of quiet desperation that we harbor in our dark hearts. I fucking know, okay? It’s like… obvious. I never, ever, for any reason, ever in my life, need to read, or see, a whole ass depressing ass play about it. Why couldn’t you write some shit about finding joy in the crevasses, or cautious optimism, or the way the terrible wonder of the universe can suddenly hit you, fully, when you’re driving down a city street as the sun goes down, and the street light in front of you turns yellow, replacing the sun for the span of three breaths just as it slips below the mountains. And you almost want to pull over, because you just feel it all welling up inside of you, the liquid light of a billion exploded stars singing in your blood, but you have a place to be, so you just turn your music up a little louder and sing your favorite line. Or like… he coulda written about some cute ass dogs or something.

To thine own self be true

Why can’t I stop thinking about all the times I let people down or fucked shit up? Idk. Idk. I have such a streak of fatalism lately, I don’t know how to deal with it. It’s got me twisted for sure. An unexpected windfall kinda saved my ass. Thanks money cat thing I reblogged lol. But idk. I still feel fucked up. Time is passing scary quick. Like how was it a whole fucking year ago I first saw that show? It feels like a month or two. The way memories shape perception scares me and I can’t think about it for too long. I should try to sleep I’ve been going way too nocturnal it’s not good. I spent like half an hour this morning (see:afternoon) reading an article about an 85 year old French dominatrix and it was really interesting and made me feel some type of way. Idk what my point is but yeah. Whatever. I can’t deal with stuff right now. I’m so sick of this repetitive work I’ve been doing. I’m gonna hold my snake for a minute I think, and then try and freaking sleep… And maybe my brain will be cool and let me and not torture me.

Face eyes heavy arms spaghetti

I feel h-h-h-heartbroken for no real reason at all. Just entombed in a sadness sarcophagus. Not sleeping isn’t helping. I don’t even know when the last time I got 8 hours of sleep was but it wasn’t recently. Finished my work, no idea if it was even acceptable. I already have a new batch due Tuesday and I’m just sick to death of doing this boring bullshit. I should do some tonight so I can have a single full day off, but after spending like 7 hours straight doing that shit today I can’t bring myself to do more. I took a batch only half the size of the last one. It really isn’t worth the money time wise, but it’s the only thing I have cooking right now and I need the money. I’m real tired. Things might feel better after some sleep. I’m in the mood to be alone right now, and I wouldn’t make good company anyway. Maybe going into Rio tomorrow, we’ll see. My eyes can barely focus, so maybe I should give up on this and go lay down. Read or something or watch some random YouTube shit. My feelings are my own and I can’t even feel them right.


Late late late late late sleep sleep sleep sleep boy. Things are thick and strange I must must say. Proud of how I set up my snake tank all improv style when shit went bad. She’s sleeping now. Dang I want another snake! But that’s probably a bad decision right now, probably. Even though I’m pro and could take care of one easily. I’m always torn about such things. Feeling guilty about how it will effect people it really won’t effect at all. (Barring some great tragedy, and even then  it’s a small thing in reality (but I’ll still knock on wood)) but even so so so so so so so. I just don’t know you know you know I just don’t know. We went to a play this evening, honestly I almost forgot about it entirely. Remembered only because my mom texted to remind me. But I’m glad I didn’t forget. It was funny and beautiful and an amazing set. So many good jokes and true laughs. Excellent acting happening live before my eyes. The kind of thing that makes me feel astounded and alive. But my boy was and is sick and suffering. Some type of coughing thing. I’m hoping he’ll feel better soon, feeding him medicine and soup. I should try to sleep. Laying here staring at the red red light. Not yet time to sleep, not quite

“Tall woman, pull the pylons down, And wrap them around the necks, Of all the feckless men that queue to be the next”

Things I should be doing: 

-trolling Odesk for jobs

-considering applying for actual real jobs {-dies}

-getting my paperwork together to renew my health insurance

-flossing my teeth

-working on music stuff

-practicing an instrument

-trying to fucking sleep so I can sort out my horrible destructive sleep schedule

-trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with my car and why it keeps stalling out

Things I am doing: 

Nothing. None of that.

Tomorrow I’m going into Rio to do Christmas related activities with my family. I really don’t fucking want to TBH… but it’s like a familial obligation. Mostly I don’t want to because my car has been stalling out on me randomly, and it really freaks me out / stresses me the fuck out and I just don’t want to deal with it at all. at all. at all. at all. at all. at all. I don’t have any money to fix it myself and I really don’t want to ask my parents to do it and everything sucks and being an adult is scary and awful. So yeah I just mostly don’t want to drive it in. I have a ton of fucking bills to pay still and not nearly, nearly, nearly enough money to get it done. So ….. cool. Fun. Awesome.

I feel very stressed and overwhelmed and generally fucking very down in general, and I really don’t know how to deal with it, and I’m just trying to keep my strong front up because I don’t really have a choice. I have to. Keep that shit up.