Its Official

I am officially depressed. And it couldn't have come at a worse time.

Career Change

When Kate York stood on the stage tonight and said,

"This song is a happy song. It is probably the only happy song I have written, so sit back and enjoy it."

I thought - Holy Cow, that is me. I knew at that moment I needed to pick my guitar back up and start lessons all over again . . . I'm going to be a singer. I doubt that is really in the cards for me, but the fact that all the songs she writes are sad, angry, confused, angst-y, and there is only one or two happy ones - I knew that is how I would be if I were a singer. Sad, but true.

Its Not

Its not "Roid, Sally, Roid." Its "Ride, Sally, Ride."

Bllllllllllaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh

"David, I'm going to hell! The worst place in the world! With devils and those caves and the ragged clothing! And the heat! My god, the heat! I mean, what do you think about all that?" - Elaine

Be Careful

The only words I could think of to say were "Just be careful." I understand why he is doing what he is doing - I probably would have done the same thing. But eight years later I can see how unfulfilling this is going to be for him. How destructive this time will really be. It isn't going to be what he thinks it is going to be, or what he wants it to be. But he doesn't want to hear that - so all I know to say is "Just be careful."

Age

There are days, a lot of days, where I feel like I am about 14. I just feel young and immature most of the time. Sometimes I hear what I am saying or look at what I am doing and think, "Gosh, when am I going to grow up?" But there are a lot of days that I feel like I was born too late. Born in a time that wasn't meant for me. I feel like I should have been born when my grandparents or parents were. I just feel like I don't belong in this time, in this place, at this age. Whether I act too young, or feel old doesn't matter, I just don't fit. I heard a song over the weekend that was saying just that (mostly the part about not belonging in this time). I was drawn to the drum beat first, then the lyrics.

I Wish I Was A Punk Rocker (With Flowers In My Hair)
Sandi Thom

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In 77 and 69 revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

When the head of state didn't play guitar,
Not everybody drove a car,
When music really mattered and when radio was king,
When accountants didn't have control
And the media couldn't buy your soul
And computers were still scary and we didn't know everything

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In 77 and 69 revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

When pop-stars still remained a myth
And ignorance could still be bliss
And when God Saved the Queen she turned a whiter shade of pale
When my mom and dad were in their teens
And anarchy was still a dream
And the only way to stay in touch was a letter in the mail

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In 77 and 69 revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

When record shops were still on top
And vinyl was all that they stocked
And the super info highway was still drifting out in space
Kids were wearing hand me downs,
And playing games meant kick around
And footballers still had long hair and dirt across their face

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In 77 and 69 revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

I was born too late to a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

Past Lives

I don't believe in reincarnation - but if I did, I think I was a smoker last time. There are 2 reasons:

• I like second hand smoke. I'm not talking about a group of people, but one or two people smoking make my day.
• This morning and last night while I was writing, I felt like there was something missing - and I thought my writing would be so much better if I had a cancer stick hanging from my hand.

I know 2 reasons doesn't prove a theory, but seriously - for someone who has never smoked to want to be around it, and think that things might write out better with one in my hand is a little odd.

Not planning on taking up smoking any time soon, but I'm just saying there are days where I'm tempted - despite all the bad things that come from it.

I've been . . .

in a word, i have been gone. gone from here, at least. don't really know why. i come around about once a day to read links i have - they have something to say (well some of them do). i just don't have anything left to say i guess. i have been working the past few weeks at looking at the positive. i suppose when i look at the positive i don't really have a lot to talk about. venting has always been my way of life and there really isn't a way to vent positively.

this week has been a hard one to look on the bright side about. it started off well enough on monday morning. at about 1 that all went to pot, then to hell with the rest of the day. i figured it was just a day. one bad day in the last month isn't so bad. well that one day has evolved into 3 (well yesterday wasn't bad), ending in a fount of expletives and a thrown tire iron. no one was around - so i could possibly deny it ever happened. after that i have pretty much been numb. talking little. tonight i cried in a room full of people. no one noticed, or if they did - they didn't care. i'm good at crying without people knowing. it's this thing i do, had 25 years of practice.

that's about all i guess. maybe i will be back in a shorter time frame.