Magazines and Daddy issues; I know you're pretty pissed; I hope you still let me kiss you. (Day 116)

What's going on? How was your weekend?

This weekend I wound up doing a bunch of things I never do, and I'm really glad to get outside of the box.

Life in a sense, at least for me in realizing certain things, is kind of like a Hold Steady album. No matter what's happening in the present, it always kind of has this air of nostalgia to it. It's probably why I'm drawn to that band as much as I am.

It's also why I'm drawn so heavily towards books like On the Road, or Catcher in the Rye or most anything Chuck Bukowski ever wrote. And while I have love for a lot of different genres of story telling, because story telling is an art form and practice that will outlast everything that's come before it, I'm always found of specifically personal story telling.

With the book I'm writing, there's nothing ground breaking and mind blowing. I'm not about to confuse what it is for what it isn't. There's a lot of truth, and there's a lot of fabrication. As of this moment though, the book is done and it took me about a week and two days to finish it up. I'm going to be coming through it and changing a few things here and there, but I'm extremely proud of what I've accomplished and even if it doesn't get picked up by anyone, I'll staple this motherfucker together myself and print it up here on this paper til the walls cave in, and I'll send it to anyone who wants to donate whatever they feel it's worth, as long as they pay shipping.

The other night I met some really cool guys and gals outside of a bar in Mesa called 1st Round Draft. While I was probably a bit younger than them (I think they were in their mid-to-late-thirties) they were still pretty god damned awesome. This guy name Dale wound up absolutely slaying karaoke. Now usually it can be pretty damned bad. There were a few absolute massacres (some girl horribly sang "Just a Girl" from No Doubt, and another guy may have ruined "Brain Stew" by Green Day for the rest of my life) but this guy wound up just killing it. Absolutely. There was another guy who wound up doing "Miami" and wound up just free styling the entire song, and it was good. It was so fucking good. I've seen actual free style battles before that didn't even approach what this guy was doing. Just laying the cut, and having a good time.

But there was this blond girl who couldn't handle her liquor all that well, and wound up sprawling face first in a bed of rocks, and made probably the most...how do I put this?

You know how when people are drunk or messed up, they just make sounds you can't replicate when sober? Just these animalistic, guttural and emotive sounds that hit the ear with such a humorous and confusing tone? Do you have any idea what I'm talking about, or am I just an island?

Well anyway, if you have any idea of what I'm talking about, those moans and groans and...whatever else that actually has no name for it's drunken cacophony, this girl was making some of the most interesting and unique sounds I'd ever heard in my life. Just these sounds of sloppy and slippery tonality. It was great. When her friend and I finally were able to help her to her feat, she thanked me and asked me in Spanish (her friend translated) "Have you accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as your Savior? You don't have to keep picking people up if you have. He'll make sure you've made it home safe." and she kept repeating this over and over again. I thought it was hilarious to see thing small white girl so plastered she couldn't even speak in her native tongue.

She immediately started making out with this guy, who by his reaction you could tell was a complete stranger. I was impressed at the fact that she hadn't puked in all this. They wound up going to his car and they made out for quite a while. They might have parted ways, or they may have went home together. But either way, I think that's pretty rad honestly. Sometimes you have to find Jesus in a stranger, even if you don't believe in his legacy everyone still needs to feel like there's a salvation out there somewhere, and it's openly awaiting them if only they want to try and find it. And yeah, sometimes it's in some strangers mouth and tongue. Some times it's in the bottom of a bottle, sometimes it's in pills, and sometimes it's in friends. Where I'm finding my salvation is in places I never thought to look: right in front of me.

And that's what Open Road and Brick Walls is about. It's about every opportunity in the world, and no matter how open that road may seem, once you get on it and put the pedal to the floor...there's always the chance (and likelihood) that you're going to approach a brick wall. It's about how you let those brick walls effect you, and how much fuel you have left in the reserves to keep going after those brick walls.

It's about those mistakes you make, and the choices you make.

There's a lot of talk about drugs and drinking in this book. Some really heavy, heavy talk of it, actually. I want to take a moment to actually comment on that, first, from my mouth.

I spent the first 20 years of my life relatively clean and on the straight and narrow. There was some drinking, yeah. Casual use of weed and stuff. But even matched against most peoples usage of those chemicals in High School and early years like that, I really didn't even do it on a normal basis. It was always so low. I was more interested in movies and books and hanging out with friends and going to shows.

Around the time the Departed and I split, I started dabbling a lot heavier ("she smells just like cocaine"). Only with alcohol, and the quantities I was pouring it down my gullet was far from healthy. Around the time I started getting ready to go to New York I started popping pills and doing other things.

But I discovered coming out of IHOP the other morning...I spent 20 years of my life pretty much completely sober. Comparing those years to now, I have to say I prefer now. I'm...notorious for marching to the beat of a different drummer. A new friend of mine pointed out earlier today when we were hanging out, she said when we were talking about this, "It's not that you march to the different beat or whatever, it's that you're a drummer yourself. You march to the beat of whatever starts bouncing in that crazy ass head of yours." and I stopped to think about it, and realized she's absolutely right.

It's why I've never been comfortable in my own skin. I had nothing to compare and contrast with because I only really heard what I was laying down.

And I see it more and more with this book. I think I've known all along where I wanted to go with myself, but something has always held me back. It's myself, and I know that now. And I know it now, and I know it while I'm still very, very young.

But somehow I'm piecing this together on my own, in a sense. Whether it be drinking, or whatever else, it's not to escape anything. It's to confront something, it's to experience something in a different light, and it's to celebrate life. I do not abuse it in an extravagant way, I don't need it every day. I have it for legitimate reasons, but that being said...it's definitely a tremendous perk to have them. But I haven't had a day in six years where I haven't been in throbbing pain.

This book is filled with subtle nods to so many different things. From Neil Diamond to Against Me!

This book is dedicated to the memory of Lester Bangs, Jack Kerouac, Charles Bukowski, my Aunt and a close friend. It's dedicated to the Hold Steady, and Against Me! It's dedicated to YOU, it's dedicated to my father, it's dedicated to Allie and Arleen. It's dedicated to Alex and it's most certainly dedicated to Velvet. Without her, I doubt I would've found a reason to even right this jumbled mess.

See, I'm a really guarded and closed off person. And in the end, it's really...hurt me more than protected me. It's strange how you realize the right time for anything. Because truthfully while you're waiting for the right time, that right time is gonna be after what it is you were hoping to accomplish. You have to take a moment and make it a lifetime. We are our own movies. We are the soundtrack, the narrative and the audience. In saying that, it's up to use to purchase the tickets to our own show, otherwise it's gonna sell out and be out of theaters by the time we decide to chip in.

You have to make life happen. I'm learning that now.

So where do I go now that Open Roads and Brick Walls is completed? I started a new book called A Positive Rage, which is another nod to my pals in the Hold Steady. I came home today to find a package with a thank you note inside from the Hold Steady for their new live album/documentary DVD.

A Positive Rage is...well, I'm really excited about it. It's completely positive and it deals with the frustrations of everything. But I really...I just can't wait to start showing it off.

After this, I may take a short break and see where I want to head from there. I've completed two books in one year, and it's only the third month, nearly fourth. I don't want to run ideas to thin, and I want to put a lot of time and energy into both and put some time between the two. That being said, I've got big plans for Open Roads and Brick Walls. I'm working really hard to attain them, too.

Now enough with me gushing about something no one cares about ever that isn't me. When I was coming home today, we picked up Arleen's daughter, Allie. It's so...strange to see her. She's becoming a little person, and it's so shocking to me. She's so smart, and funny. It's so fascinating to watch her, and think that just two short years ago, she was pink and tiny and a baby. Every time she see's me she says my name, and automatically all is right with the world. I never realized that as much of a pacifist and proprietor of peaceful solutions as I am, I never once realized that there could be someone in existence that I know I would absolutely whoop ass to make sure no one ever wronged them. And I mean absolutely whoop somebodies ass.

Her expressions are the funniest thing in the world. I never thought I would stop myself from saying something just to make sure she didn't have to hear it, at least not from me. But I never knew there would actually be that moment where I'd be content just talking with a child, and just listening to what they have to say. I never thought I'd actually be happy to watch a child eat.

Her expressions though, are absolutely the most hilarious thing in the world to witness. Whatever you think is better, funnier and more worthwhile is wrong. My friend Richard was holding her toy ransom until she finished her dinner, and the look she shot him the dirtiest, "Don't screw with me kid, I could have you killed" look I've ever seen in my entire life. I had to bury my face in my soda cup to keep myself from exploding with laughter.

There's nothing better than that.

I don't expect anyone to remember me. I remember being stoned on LSD on a bus to Massachusetts one rainy Friday morning with this girl Christie, and just being so bummed though that Arleen's kid wouldn't remember me. Gotta love inebriated mind frames. But the first time I came back to Arleen's house, Allie was a little cautious of me, and then hugged me and I nearly cried.

The simple fact that she knows my name...man, fuck everything else. That's the best feeling in the whole god damned world. She doesn't give a shit if I pissed some "punk" label off, or if some dude in Australia is obsessed with calling me a faggot and a cunt and a pussy every single chance he gets. Fuck that, and fuck them. For some reason she's comfortable around me, and that's...good enough. Everything else is pretty much secondary, and I couldn't care less what anyone thinks about that.

I couldn't ever raise a child. I just know that. The bloodline dies with me, ha. But the thing is, it's a conscience decision not too. I'd be rubbish at it. I don't know if I'll ever be mature enough. God knows I'm not smart enough, and I'm not about to pretend I am. I have no idea how to change a diaper, I just learned there's clips in the back of cars for car seats, and just...wow. It's mind bottling.

But I think about it. What if I ever did have a kid. How would I react when they became a little person, and then a person of their own altogether? Just looking at myself...how would I react if they experimented with sex, drugs and rock and roll? I'd want them to trust me enough to where they could talk to me. Be up front and honest, because I'd like to trust myself enough to understand and not be a judgmental person. But then I think about how there's books I've written, how they can openly read what I've said, things I've done, thoughts I had at their age, and I just kind of cringe. I cringe if, say, Allie were to read that, and I don't have a clue why.

But if I had a child...what would I do? How would I be, and how would it change me? There's absolutely no way that child would ever have to worry if they were gonna be able to have clothing when they needed it, or if they needed a ride somewhere when they were ten they wouldn't have to rely on someone else. There's absolutely no way they'd have to be in public school. In fact, I'm positive I'd put them in a charter school, period. Even if I have to work ten jobs and sell blood.

I look at so many parents today, and look at how they treat their children. They don't care. That's why I admire Arleen so much. You just look at Allie, and you know she's smart. Arleen never baby talked her, and I love that the most about her approach. That's ridiculous, it's counterproductive to a child's mental development, and it's degrading and insulting. I've never done that. They are in fact little people, and if someone unironically baby talked me now, I'd lose my shit and kill them. I can't imagine how a baby would feel. But Allie is so smart, so well behaved and social. She's friendly. There's not a chance in the world she's questioning if she's loved or not. I've never in my entire life seen so many people dedicated to raising a single child. The whole "it takes a village" thing? She has more than a village of people who bleed only for her.

She's two. She's in her "terrible" two's, and I know for a fact she's not at all acting like a monster. She has her moments because, well, she's a child and a person and she's allowed.

But I've been searching for a former clarity. Searching and writing and hoping I over looked something. I've realized there's absolutely nothing whatsoever I over looked. What I've left in the past is there for a reason; Because there's so many better days ahead.

I got hurt badly a few weeks ago. It was my own doing, and I acted like an asshole instead of being supportive to other people, and I'm sorry as Hell about that.

But instead of losing my focus, I my hand through a wall and a garage door, and then put it out all on a page. And where I'm at now, I have an idea of where I'm heading. I haven't had a reason to smile in a long time, and now I do. I'm not afraid of failure, and I don't care how anyone perceives me to be anymore; I've been as honest as I could be. I'll extend my hand to anyone, and be there for anyone, period. If that's not enough, well then I wish you luck.

My heads on straight for the first time. And I realized this person existed forever, I just ignored it because I couldn't get over myself (Yes, you were right. You know who you are.) He definitely existed when I felt so hopeless. He existed and I didn't even know it, when he picked up the phone and decided on my behalf that I needed help.

I can't wait for a brand new day.

-Until tomorrow.