Just a little bit about these guys; all of 'em are really nice and talented. They are hard working, make great pop music, and their shows are an awful lot of fun. If you're in Arizona, more or less the Phoenix area (since no one reads this outside of the Metro area...) and you're bored on any of the following nights; go check 'em out. I hope you won't be disappointed.
| Club Congress W/ Young Mothers | Tucson, Arizona | ||
| Festivus Holiday Show @ The TrunkSpace | Phoenix | ||
| Jason Woodbury (Hands on Fire) solo @ Modified Arts | Phoenix, Arizona | ||
| Trunk Space W/the Donkeys | Phoenix | ||
| Yucca Tap Room W/ Earthmen and Strangers, Digital Leather | Tempe, Arizona |
Supporting local artists is a good thing, especially when it's something worthwhile.
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Sometimes I wonder if being an asshole is the only way to come out on top in this world, in this life. So many times I've given everything of myself, only to come up feeling like nothing was even noticed; and truthfully thats fine.
At what point, when you feel like you've got nothing left to offer, do you find your reserves.
They say nice guys finish last. I know I can be a dick at times, but it feels like sometimes the race done started without me, and I'm still stuck tying my shoelaces at the finish line while I'm getting lapped.
And I get angry at myself for a lot of this. I don't feel like I have anything to offer except....
Except I follow my heart, and I try to be as honest as possible, no matter the outcome. It comes at a heavy penance, and I'm not so sure I'd ever suggest anyone else do this.
You look to the media, and you see these people who's every move is draped in decadence and vanity. People flock to this, seemingly to cling to what it is they can't have, when in all reality if they opened up Lindsay Lohan's wallet--they might find a hefty portion of their paycheck cashed.
All I know is right now I'm dirt poor, and I'd do whatever it took to claw my way to the top, and never look back. But I can't justify doing that on anything less that an honest route.
But that honest route leaves a damned dirty taste in your mouth long after you've been passed by sometimes.
I want to exorcise every demon, but at what cost? I feel so guilty hearing from a friend of mine who's recently went through a tremendous tragedy I'd never wish on anyone, tell me my blog drove her to tears.
I get a lot of feed-back from this. It's strange, because I'm not used this kind of attention. Throughout this year though, I've been the subject of a lot of controversy, a lot of attention by respected artists. Some of it's been positive...for every one negative comment I got, I got six others giving encouragement. I rubbed Max Bemis (and his fans) the wrong way, I mentioned several times in PunkNews.org stories...and all of it feels surreal, still, that people are still coming to this blog, as well as Piss and Vinegar around the world.
But the feedback from this blog itself, Days Gone By, has been one mostly of drastic concern over my well being (for the most part). And I'm not sure how I feel about that, honestly.
This isn't a call for a pity party. I have a disorder, and I'm trying to take back control of my life. This isn't a cry for attention whatsoever, just my attempt to breathe and stop feeling so worthless and confused.
So much of it is dripped with humor, albeit dark at times, but it's meant to hopefully shed light on something thats controlled my being for my entire life.
Whats left is a gigantic fear; Putting everything on display. Everything thats out there so far, it's my hope someone can relate, can also formulate a thought process to put aside what holds them back too, and maybe get a smile here or there as well.
But then theres the other side of that coin, where every night I lay awake and feel completely useless, worthless and alone. I know I'm not the only one, but at 23...it's becoming more apparent thats not going to change.
Some people serve as cautionary tales. I feel thats the way I'm going.
And I've made my peace with that, but it doesn't mean it gets any easier to swallow. This world's going to keep spinning long after I'm gone...
My friend that I'd mentioned above, a little bit ago, recently experienced a loss I don't feel any woman should ever have to go through. Her husbands out trying to secure a future for them, far away from her. I feel for her more, because what shes experienced...you can't just shake it off.
And I feel guilty that this is something that makes her feel bad for me.
It isn't the point, at all.
I'm crazy, I take pills, and I write. So I make I'm trying to make sense of it all, but I don't want this content to drag anyone down. These are stories, these are the things that I've dealt with. I'm not different from you, I just can't process it as well as most of you can.
And I'm right now trying to make peace with always coming in last. I want to cheer for the Underdog, cheer for the bad guy/heel, because they get admonished or overlooked entirely.
Where do you go from the bottom? It's logical to say you can only go up, but the truth is...you can go beneath the bottom. It's tougher to walk up an incline than it is to fall.
And I appreciate everything thats been said, I don't want to give that impression either. I'm very grateful for the kind words, I just feel bad for making anyone think I need pity. This is an attempt at expression, and entertainment. Who doesn't laugh at the crazy in the movies?
Thanks for sticking with this, everyone. I'm sorry if this comes off as a pity parade. I'm just trying to make sense of everything.
Until tomorrow.
1 comment:
Reading the wikipedia link makes me want to punch Scott Heisel in his vagina.
You're not useless, or worthless...I wish you didn't think that..
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