It’s been two months since I was here last. Apparently June 16th was the 7 year anniversary of me having this wordpress, so just for the fuck of it I went through my archive to see what I had written in June for the past 7 years. And basically it just made me feel weird and bad. I was like … lol … have I ever experienced happiness? Like… have I ever? experienced? happiness? Listen okay, I know the deal is that I only really feel compelled to write here as a sort of therapy, a self-soothing coping mechanism. It’s comforting to me in a weird, intangible way. But that means this is basically just a record of all my worst thoughts and experiences. So it’s not that fun to look back through. And it’s not really an accurate representation of my life as a whole. At least … I don’t think it is. I don’t like to think it is. Also there are some drunk and half-drunk poems thrown in, and also wow I really used to write about kinky sex stuff a lot. Like I was real open about talking about that stuff here, in significant detail. Honestly probably at least partially to make myself seem edgy, and different, and interesting. I dunno. I know there was more to it than that, I know it felt … right to write it at the time. And I know I don’t feel compelled to share those elements of myself so publicly anymore. At least not here, not like this. It feels strange and disembodied to read about some of those exploits. I know they happened but it’s hard for me to imagine them happening to this same body that i’m in right now. Anyway, the world is crazy. That’s for sure. That’s for sure for sure for sure for sure. I’m tired of having dreams where I yell and scream at people to put their fucking masks on, because they’re putting my loved ones in danger by not wearing them. Dreams where we’re in public and I’m desperately trying to herd my loved ones through a crowded area without getting too close to anyone, and people purposely get in our space, and spit at us, and I scream at them but I can’t stop to fucking fight them because I just have to get us out. away. fast. I’m tired. But right now we’re here. And right now I’m out. Peace. Love. Power.
What up? Still here. Hope you guys are too. It’s fucking bitter Stone hard to deal with this right now. That’s true. And how the fuck am I supposed to care about writing a paper about fucking Shakespeare? *some snotty academic person’s voice* “Well, when Shakespeare was in quarantine for the black plague he wrote King Lear, so you should stop complaining and get stuff done.” Okay bitch, first of all? King Lear fucking sucks. Have you read that shit? It’s about a stupid old dude who doesn’t understand the subtleties of language, so he disowns his daughter and fucks up his whole kingdom. It’s boring. It feels like something someone who was really fucking bored wrote, because they wanted to spread their boredom around like rats spread the black plague. Second of all, who the fuck are you to presume to tell anyone else how to deal with a traumatic and unprecedented situation? No one. That’s who.
And at the same time I feel sort of weirdly connected to all of humanity in a way I never have before. The closest thing I can compare it to is how I feel about the Olympics. The whole world is looking toward this one thing, at the same time, together. We are all seeing ourselves and each other and we’re all just bopping around trying our fucking best, even though most people’s best is an idiot. It’s like that except not at all like that. It’s scary. It opens a pit in my stomach. It opens up pits in our stomachs. We’re all alone in our little houses, but we’re all here together. I watch my family’s little faces on my little screen. I force myself to feel grounded. I weave and try to do everything I can. I make a scarf, I work on my stupid paint with diamonds. I try to make an old story actually good. I record myself telling stories. I build forts and pet my dog and pet my significant other. I stress the fuck out over grocery lists, and trying and trying and trying to make sure everything gets on there. To make sure everyone gets what they need and they don’t need to go out. Don’t go out. Please don’t go out.
Hello (love). I’m getting my life together this month. It’s the month and i fucking have to and I’m doing it. So fucking weak the last couple days tho it’s bullshit. Just want to sleep. Sleep and read and lose myself in silly little fantasies. Sometimes, not very often at all, but once in a rare while, reading will feel the way it felt for me as a kid, as a teen. A real escape, an obsession. It leaks colours and flavours and scents into my life. Cherry and something dark. I understand things about myself, but i also don’t. I simplify myself to myself because it’s easier, or at least i mostly think it is. Yeah. I dunno. I don’t always know how to use my voice, or how to use it for good, or what good is. Every word is the string for a light and the spring for a trap. Name things with caution, say “i love you” often.
Hahaha everything feels sad to me. My period surprised me and all the emotions I’ve been holding in check are all up on me. The main themes in Hamlet are madness, revenge, religion, and political instability. Fight me if you thing I’m wrong. Fight me if you think i have too many weeds in my front yard. I choose trial by combat and my weapon of choice is the force of my unbridled anger about the way the bourgeoisie exploits the proletariat. Maybe we should get married for the wedding gifts. Maybe i should live off loans and get a doctorate. Maybe love is that steel you find when your loved one needs it. Maybe it’ll be alright if i can just move past this. Yeah. I’ll tease and lead you with the promise of a goal and I’ll destroy and feed you to a spectre or a ghost, it’s good. The rooms of all my dreams are all filled up with bad mistakes, the ones i’d let go and the ones i would just make and make. Yeah.
It’s Christmas. A lot of stuff has been happening… Like… A lot. I got my Master’s degree. Officially. We *might* be getting a fucking house, like for real. *Knock on wood* and my brother and i finished our five song EP. We’re going to be giving it to our parents in the morning, as a gift. For this reason, I’m more nervous and excited about Christmas morning than i have been since i was a literal child. I’m definitely nervous, but also, so excited. I just hope it goes well. I hope all of this goes well. *Knock on wood* I’m gonna try and sleep now i guess, even though that seems impossible. We’ll see. Peace.
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.
My heart blooms over the simplest things. You calling me upstairs, because you want my attention and don’t want to wait. Feeling my presence wanted like that just… Yeah. You laying your head in my lap, the way you react to my touch, you telling me, that you love being mine. Fuck. Fuck.
I’m still trying to figure everything out. It’s not easy. It’s not easy at all, at all, at all. My heart gets sore and it riles and roars.
And i don’t know shit, but fuck, i want to have a house and live in it with you. I want to hear you say your name, and the end of it’s the same as mine
I’m listening to the new Murder By Death album, because I just bought tickets to see them on Friday, in a super amazing tiny venue that is also, itself, an immersive work of art, and one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. I’m trying to see if I can manage to get a room for the night as well, so we can make a little overnight trip out of it, just chill, and relax, and not have to make the hour+ drive home at 11:30 at night. Buuut, I’m really poor, so we’ll see what happens. I’m excited about the show either way tho.
I managed to get my 3 possible topics for my dissertation turned in yesterday. I’m actually pretty happy with one of them, and I really hope my adviser approves that one, because it’s super unique and thought provoking and actually sort of interesting to me, and I seriously think it would be something that could be published in an academic journal if I can pull it off. My second choice topic is pretty okay, I guess. That was originally going to be my first choice but then I came up with a better one at the last minute, so that was cool. My third choice topic, like… I *could* write it, definitely, but it would be so fucking boring, and I don’t want to. (but I could).
I think I’m just going to re-work an old poem for my stupid CW class, because I have one that is almost exactly what the stupid professor (that I dislike more and more, basically every time he says anything) says he wants. I want to change it up a bit, but overall I think it’ll be fine. Two students submitted their poems already, and they were both pretty terrible, in two different ways, so there’s that. Still, he gave me a fucking 86% on my “poetry exercises” thing, which I think is fucking bullshit, considering it was a dumbass assignment that seemed super subjective and he took off points because I didn’t answer shit the exact way that he would have answered it. Like… okay buddy. Oh-fucking-kay. If I lose my 4.0 over a stupid goddamn creative writing class that I picked because I thought it would be easy and fun, I’m going to be so pissed.
I’m feeling super weird and anxious and pretty bad right now. Maybe just cuz of how weird today was, or because of how much work I have ahead of me, in so many different ways. Or maybe just because of my general feelings, in general. Idk. It’s 2:45am and I should probably be asleep.
I really fucking hope that the dudes remodeling the apartment actually take the day off, tomorrow, Sunday, because I’m fucking exhausted and it’s guna fucking suck if I get woken up by ridiculously loud pounding on the wall right above my head … again.
Last night really was very fun tho. We fucking stayed up until the sun came up, which we haven’t done in a long time. Listening to music and talking deeply and then it started to rain, heavy, with sky flare lightning and booming, rolling thunder. We stood outside for a long time, enjoying the absence of neighbors on both sides of us, going into the street and getting rained on and just… being there. It was nice. Alright, I need to try and sleep. peace.
I’ve been feeling pretty decent overall for the past couple weeks, focused and kinda sorta content, in my way. But I’m suddenly feeling less calm and confident, less sure and focused, more stressed, depressed, jealous, irritated and just fucking angry. Probably hormones are involved but it’s also just … feelings. This assignment is stressing me the fuck out, which isn’t helping anything. Not knowing whether or not I have a tour tomorrow night is also not fucking useful. I want time, and affection, and to have this assignment finished. My bro is going to Mexico tomorrow, for like three days, for his best friend’s wedding. Hopefully he will have a chill, fun time. We hung out with our parents for a little while yesterday, running errands and moving furniture and it was nice. My brain is starting to cook on this assignment, some ideas are starting to form. As I’ve told myself again and again, I need to focus on controlling what I can control. I need to focus on myself, and my goals. I need to make decisions that will further those goals. That is what I need to focus my mind on, instead of obsessing about things that aren’t in my hands. Right now, I need to make my brain focus on this particular task. I need to craft three possible ideas, and pick my favorite, and seal my fate. I applied for graduation. Now I just have to do the work. Peace.
I just left my brother’s apartment for probably the last time ever. Like… ever. I helped him finish cleaning it out and making it nice, and he has his walk-through tomorrow, to see if he gets his security deposit back, and then that’s it. I gave him his spare key back so he could give it to them. We mopped ourselves out, and left. (we also took advantage of the amazing, empty apartment acoustics to loudly and dramatically sing “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt” in various musical genres)
A lot of fun, creative, hilarious, exciting, interesting, and melancholy things happened there. I am melancholy about his leaving, strangely sentimental. But it’s good. It’s really, really good. It’s time. Briefly, I find myself nearly overwhelmed with a feeling of excitement at the thought of getting a house. The thought of having a real kitchen to cook in, a real space to build a life. But I don’t want to get my hopes up, and I get scared, to let myself feel that level of happiness. It’s complicated. It’s complicated. It’s complicated.
I need to go to bed. I need to either find or figure out how to fucking get a new registration for my car, because that shit expires on Friday, and tomorrow is Tuesday. That’s definitely a stressful thought upon my brain.
I also have to come up with 3 possible dissertation topics by that day, and finish an annoying exercise for my other class, and apply for graduation. No word yet about whether or not I have to go to fucking Kansas to take my comprehensive exam. I e-mailed my professor about it again just now because she never got back to me the first time. Sooooooooo…….. we’ll see! Peace.