Triks's Blog

I woke up this morning with a new moon in my eyes. I took stock of the characters I’ve been playing and they’re nowhere near the potential of what I’m really worth. I carried a cross for too long and I’ve held on to the past to the point where it’s affected my present. Now I’m aware and I’m considering a new way of living without the pain and the self inflicted torture I’ve been putting myself through. It’s just as easy as making up my mind and following through with what I know is best for me. This is me now.

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I’m going stir crazy in this place all by myself. I’m getting frustrated and bewildered at the cards I’ve been dealt. I can’t find the time to describe the time I’ve been having trying to keep myself entertained and inspired. I have a saving grace and a shoulder to cry on, but there’s nothing there in the middle of the day when I’m going slightly mad at 4 in the afternoon. Maybe I’m gearing up for something huge and this is the calm before the storm, or perhaps this is the lullaby I live in while everyone else is working the week away. Either way it seems I have to find something to occupy my time and carry me through this slow moving, inch worm like motion of a day that is making me wonder what the new moon will bring.

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Awhile back we bought a new rug for the living room. It was pretty costly but it looked great and it was blue which is my favorite color. Within a few hours of the new lay down, my cat decided to claim one corner as hew new scratching pad. She pretty much fucked the rug up by morning wreaking a small havoc on the threads, but not to the point where it was destroyed. We had an instead to go back to IKEA and buy a smaller round rug to put on top of the new $200 rug we just bought, hoping my cat was merely territorial and not destructive. Our plan worked and now a five dollar topical rug serves as her scratch pad instead of the expensive rug. I also find her laying on it regularly in a semi-circle. Tonight as I was just about to fall asleep but I rather spent some time playing with her. She loves the little round rug so much. And I thought to myself how simple the idea was to solve this little kitty problem and how much happier we all are for having these little disasters work out perfectly. I wish that every idea I have would manifest so quickly and with such grace as this small example. I wish that I knew exactly which strategies to play that will work the best in real time in every aspect of my life as quickly as my cat took to that rug. I firmly believe that the work I’m doing now, believe it or not I will eventually bear fruit I can live off of. But I know that it won’t come easy as driving to the store to buy some sort of remedy. A year ago I didn’t have a couch to sit on, or a refrigerator to keep my beer cold, and I was stuck on the floor of this house realizing that sometimes the simple things in life are the most forgettable. I’m valiant in my efforts to realize the future, but I’m amazed at how much I forget to appreciate the present. I should work on that.

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I live in this town where the hills are crawling with hikers and the trails reek of dog shit and urine. I live in this town where the only value of theatre is the shock it sends to your system and not the quality of acting that I remember. I live in this town where souls are sold for a quarter and a bad of blow goes for twenty bucks. I live in this town where I find myself counting the days until I can leave to find some balance and when I get back I’m slowly drained of all inspiration and heart. I live in this town where I don’t like 99% of the people who are in the same game as me and it makes me wonder why I choose to do it anymore. I live in this town where it never snows but there seem to be flakes all year round, and I’m just as guilty as the next guy. I live in this town where excitement means a red carpet and paparazzi, and news is defined by the covers of trashy magazines that come out weekly. I live in this town where the billboards reach past the tallest building and star maps are used as a navigation system. I live in this town where I drive around alone but I’m always surrounded by idiots. I live in a town where the smallest detail is scrutinized and pickled apart for artistic integrity, but no one ever comes up with an original creative idea. I live in this town where money defines a lifestyle of comfort while the rest of us work jobs we loathe just to survive another day in this town. I love L.A.

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It is almost humorous how attached we become to the things we own; how it can feel like a piece of your soul is missing when things are lost. Maybe, deep down, it is the invasion of your privacy that really scratches at you from the inside out. For a few nights now I have been waking up from dreams of being robbed- people threatening me and taking the things that I hold so dear. And one bad situation often makes you think of others- a whirlwind of "what if's" and "what would I do?'s". If you do not know, someone stole my band's van with all of our equipment inside of It (2 years ago). Besides the fact that nearly every dollar I have earned in the past..god knows how long...has been put into purchasing musical equipment, it feels like the tools of my passion are gone.

But on the other hand, the passion is not. The anger, the shock, the sadness...they all are being transferred into other feelings: inspiration, appreciation for what I do have, motivation, and, oddly enough, thankfullness. Since this has happened to us, people's true characters have truly been shown. I feel very gratefull to be a part of a community of people who care enough to try and help each other out when someone is down and out. It is truly incredible the amount of help that has been offered to us even in the simplest form of apologies. And I am reminded why I always believe in people unless given a reason not to because there is good in everyone. What does not kill you, will only make you stronger. Our band is going to be an impenetrable fortress.

And then there are those eyes. And the smiles. The murmurs. The slurs. The warmth of not being alone. It is comfort I forgot could exist feelings I forgot that I could have.

This could be a lot worse; I could be a complete mess right now. But I am not. In fact, I feel good. Everything in it's right place.

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I have come to an interesting conclusion; had a realization of sorts:

It is much easier to live in the moment- seemingly, mostly carefree- when the moments are meaningless in the end. Not to say that every moment does not have meaning....but some moments of your life will undoubtedly stand out as much more significant than others. Anyways, I am getting off track. So, all of a sudden I am reminded of the way certain things can feel. And certain moments become engraved in my soul. Then they are over, naturally. And, as usual, I have trouble letting go of them. I want it to be like that all of the time. This leaves me completely frustrated with myself.

But really....I can do this. Just like I can do anything else. It's not like my confidence is shaken or my determination skewed. Questioning yourself and having a few challenges along the way are preferred anyways.

And I have been paid a few incredible compliments as of late- the kind that make you feel proud and embarassed at the same time. The kind that I will never forget.

Oh yeah, rock n fuckin roll will prevail.

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If I can say everything, then let's say it all. I made a promise and I intend to keep it...but how different for me. A victim of my own thoughts. A simple explanation: I refuse to settle. Nothing but the best is good enough for me, and I can be disappointed if I want to; in myself, in the way things pan out, in the most insignificant of details. I want to be so much more- always. When you are feeling the happiest, the stings sting even worse. My emotions are heightened, and everything has become even more significant. Clearly, it is worth it because the numbness is so unattractive to me. Bring it on. Just bring the proof. And show me those eyes.

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I have come to learn that love is one of the most beautiful things in life. However, I have also learned that love can be masked in a variety of ways. I have never felt more in touch with myself than I do today and I want to thank everyone who has been a part of the process. I will never be untrue to myself even if that means loving what cannot be returned to me. The most magical part of love is that it can exist in anything as long as one is willing to recognize it. If it is ignored, then it cannot blossom. I hope to never lose sight of the hope that such an intense feeling has given me. I will not let my past experiences bring me down because someone was unable to recognize what was right there in front of them. Even though it once felt that my heart was broken, I feel so fortunate that I now know what to do with the pieces: put them back together in a new way that surpasses what it was before. The beauty is that the pieces are the same with each and every memory still present. The memories simply come together to make a more complete person. This is my a-ha for now. I can't wait to experience many more a-has.

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Giving blood,

keeping faith.
And I'm still right here.

Completely content with who I am. Satisfied with the fact that I am never satisfied with who I am. Content to know that there is civil unrest inbetween my ribs and my spine. And completely ok to be nothing but a contradiction to myself. Confident in the insecurities that dwell within my head. And comfortable in the certain of uncertainty no matter how meticulously I plan.

I'm still right here.

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I was laying down on this slide- a spiraling, yellow piece of plastic that has a big sign on it letting you know that it was designed for 2-5 year olds. Anyways, I was laying on it and listening to the sounds of the park. A few crickets, the soft hum of the lights, the rustling of the sorry excuse for foliage, and even the deadening silence of 95 degree heat at 11:00pm. Welcome to the sprawling urban desert, I guess.

I digress:

If I was going to make a film, it would look like that. Not the opening credits or anything, but some scene of solitude and thought. The entire soundtrack of the film is already planned out in my head. And to me, this movie I'll never make feels like my life. Sometimes (a lot of the time?) it feels like I am watching my life from the perspective of an outsider. Like I am a telefoto lens on a telescoping boom arm, operated by some motivations that I cannot even begin to comprehend. I am following myself around and going through the motions together with myself- feeling the heavy steps, feeling the cold air in my lungs, feeling the adrenaline and the anxiety alike. The movie is filled with music- random songs with words that are either too obvious, or so disconnected yet relevant that you're going to have to make wrong assumptions. And that is like my real life, because it feels like whenever I need to say something important or am digging inside myself for answers, all that comes up is song after song after song. My brain, the jukebox; creator of the soundtrack of my life.

What does it sound like?

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