fuck this broken soul shit
and for all its worth fuck the reason i'm here. and at the same time dont. what a bitter sweet arrival, and yet, arriving only to check out at 9am with a nasty hang over and a handful of blind spots. for a lack of subtlety. sometimes i wish i was not as open as i am. as honest as i could be. as blunt as i get. you give them an inch, they fuck you up and jack your shit for all its motherfuckin worth. i absolutely hate using this place to complain but if i don't do it here i'm gonna strangle a bitch. most bands cant see past their egos far enough to create a human connection to a fan. to spend any sort of time with a fan is a fucking chore. i feel very safe in saying i've made it my fucking lifes (haha 2 years) work to create as much of a bond with our fans as humanly possible. hours and hours and hours of sitting there, with every bone in my body making sure i'm being sincere to all 2000 fans when i say thanks for coming and hugs and pictures and hugs and autographs. fuck i love it. i'll never denounce attention. i used to get kicked out of class for wanting too much. now people literally line up to give it to me. give them an inch... im' assuming i will always be made to feel by people, that its not enough. heres a fact, at least for me, it takes a literal army of people to boost confidence, and only a handful of fucks to shatter it. how much is too much? how much is too far? things not far from the forefront of my mind, but definatly in the passenger seat. i'm not going to conclude, on here, my thoughts on this matter. for reasons, A: i dont feel i need to. and B: i already forgot what i was talking about.
im' still greatful. i'm proud to call my friends my friends. the only way i can tell the difference between a friend and an aquaintance, is by which ones know what about me. there is alot i allow people to know. alot i allude to. alittle i am discrete abou,t and a great great many things no one will ever know. except for you. (you know who you are.) i'll keep giving. i wont stop. i'll hold my tongue. more importantly my fist. nobody is worth the money for the lawsuit involved in me crushing all the bones in their face with my hand. i think i've also done quite the job at not letting this shit get to my head. knowing how much of a nobody and halfass i still am and always have been has been my greatest strength and consolement. i don't impress me. i'll always be stoked that i have fans though. people that appreciate the music i make and the show i perform and the interview i give and the time i take. the time i take... ...give them an inch... i can't belive it has actually come around to bite me sometimes. not severely. but what measure is too much these days. fuck it. let god sort them out.
i was asked today if i like rain. i answered with. "no. i've done too many years of 4 season construction on the west coast of canada to have any sort of poetic regard for rain." it was a good question. i thought about it after. i thought about different things. thgings that are so glorious, exciting, beyond my wildest dreams, even beautiful. i thought about rain again. how cold it can be. how wet it is. how it chills you to the bone. how every time you lift your hammer above your head it runs down your sleeve to your warm chest, and sends icy shivers down your body. how it turns dust into mud. how it turns wood into a slip and slide. how it makes your finger tips pink and unable to grab nails. how it makes you sniffle. all day. how a 2x6 splashes water up into your face when dropped to the ground on the flat. how production slows down. how moral is weakend. how u cant have the radio out. how you have to work with extra layers of rubber that make you sweat. how your feet are always the first to freeze. (ring ring: mommy can you bring me more dry socks!) then i thought about my life. my music life. and all the ugly connotations that go along with it. and i thought about whether or not it out weighs the good. i will not disclose my conslusion. ever. i stand here. staring, hungering, after this mountain infront of me. this big big mountain. to my left and my right other eyes staring upwards. some not as hungry. some hungrier. i'm sweating. so much on this line. i don't want to have nothing to lose. what will i be rememberd for? fuck this broken soul shit. i'm solid gold. things will break me, but i'll never be broken. i'll never let you take a part of me with you. its an act for the most part. an ever changing act. sometimes growing, sometimes screwing up, sometimes smiling, sometimes crying, sometimes screaming, sometimes laughing, always naked, sometimes obnoxious, sometimes charming, and hardly concerned about the consequences. an act. act. my theme song will not forever be, the buzz of ice machines, distant (and sometimes very very close) sounds of sirens, auditoriums of numbing screams, and that really wicked sound the toilet makes on the tour bus bathroom. my scenery will change when its ready to. and if i dont enjoy every second of right now, i'm am the worlds 'silliest' fool. but besides that. i will always ask myself. how long can i make this last. how close does that mountain top seem. how lucky am i? really? how strong am i? really? how proud am i? really. maybe wrap me up in plastic maybe crawl back down the window. its much harder to feel sick when your heart is so far from real. you're only close to bottoming out when your knees kiss this ground. but what do i know about making things work. about full house endings and lessons learned punctually. this rain, the same rain. still falls on my face and i feel it. i see it. it makes my hair wet, my skin shine, my heart beat. but it still turns this dust into mud. my knees. they're very muddy still.
she came in a box, i loved, and i sold her.
im' still greatful. i'm proud to call my friends my friends. the only way i can tell the difference between a friend and an aquaintance, is by which ones know what about me. there is alot i allow people to know. alot i allude to. alittle i am discrete abou,t and a great great many things no one will ever know. except for you. (you know who you are.) i'll keep giving. i wont stop. i'll hold my tongue. more importantly my fist. nobody is worth the money for the lawsuit involved in me crushing all the bones in their face with my hand. i think i've also done quite the job at not letting this shit get to my head. knowing how much of a nobody and halfass i still am and always have been has been my greatest strength and consolement. i don't impress me. i'll always be stoked that i have fans though. people that appreciate the music i make and the show i perform and the interview i give and the time i take. the time i take... ...give them an inch... i can't belive it has actually come around to bite me sometimes. not severely. but what measure is too much these days. fuck it. let god sort them out.
i was asked today if i like rain. i answered with. "no. i've done too many years of 4 season construction on the west coast of canada to have any sort of poetic regard for rain." it was a good question. i thought about it after. i thought about different things. thgings that are so glorious, exciting, beyond my wildest dreams, even beautiful. i thought about rain again. how cold it can be. how wet it is. how it chills you to the bone. how every time you lift your hammer above your head it runs down your sleeve to your warm chest, and sends icy shivers down your body. how it turns dust into mud. how it turns wood into a slip and slide. how it makes your finger tips pink and unable to grab nails. how it makes you sniffle. all day. how a 2x6 splashes water up into your face when dropped to the ground on the flat. how production slows down. how moral is weakend. how u cant have the radio out. how you have to work with extra layers of rubber that make you sweat. how your feet are always the first to freeze. (ring ring: mommy can you bring me more dry socks!) then i thought about my life. my music life. and all the ugly connotations that go along with it. and i thought about whether or not it out weighs the good. i will not disclose my conslusion. ever. i stand here. staring, hungering, after this mountain infront of me. this big big mountain. to my left and my right other eyes staring upwards. some not as hungry. some hungrier. i'm sweating. so much on this line. i don't want to have nothing to lose. what will i be rememberd for? fuck this broken soul shit. i'm solid gold. things will break me, but i'll never be broken. i'll never let you take a part of me with you. its an act for the most part. an ever changing act. sometimes growing, sometimes screwing up, sometimes smiling, sometimes crying, sometimes screaming, sometimes laughing, always naked, sometimes obnoxious, sometimes charming, and hardly concerned about the consequences. an act. act. my theme song will not forever be, the buzz of ice machines, distant (and sometimes very very close) sounds of sirens, auditoriums of numbing screams, and that really wicked sound the toilet makes on the tour bus bathroom. my scenery will change when its ready to. and if i dont enjoy every second of right now, i'm am the worlds 'silliest' fool. but besides that. i will always ask myself. how long can i make this last. how close does that mountain top seem. how lucky am i? really? how strong am i? really? how proud am i? really. maybe wrap me up in plastic maybe crawl back down the window. its much harder to feel sick when your heart is so far from real. you're only close to bottoming out when your knees kiss this ground. but what do i know about making things work. about full house endings and lessons learned punctually. this rain, the same rain. still falls on my face and i feel it. i see it. it makes my hair wet, my skin shine, my heart beat. but it still turns this dust into mud. my knees. they're very muddy still.
she came in a box, i loved, and i sold her.
posted by honest at 9:54 PM
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