Soundless Scream

Out of scotch, out of mind some say.

I recorded the track to the previously posted

lyrics tonight, but it's too large for you

folks to hear apparently.

I keep re-filtering my ears, yet

my heart can't hear my feelings

Some call this manic depression, I refer to

it simply as common sense,

my means of going by life.

The years go so god damn fast,

why do my days only go by slow?

I rocked my brains out this weekend,

which only left my heart to guide me

My tattoos remind myself of where I stand

Usually I resort to their last case command.

Even though some say I'm gifted, I believe its a hopeless curse.

A curse to be relinquished; alone through battles with that devil which

cries and rips through my spirit and into my finger tips every time

you hear my sweet baby Josie's scream.

She screams for my defense.

She knows how to live hopeless

She fears for what I am doing

She holds me tenderly

She will never hurt me

She is my everything.

Eventually you get what you look for

Try not to defame but protect a thought

You couldn't correctly view things

Never wrong,

You think you've found yourself

And somethings telling me you don't

know how wrong you are

Declare some ugly mission of obedience

To my ears, its only frequent bullshit

Everything you wanted on your own

I yelled I had it when you left home

Except what I knew,

Nothing was for you

God' Damn my intuition, led me the wrong way

Sure enough I'd slip into some sort of jam or delay

Out of places to go, couldn't really tell where I was tho

Pinpoint where I am, loud to find upon the far rise

Every thing I am yet to finally realize

Laugh about my inability to recognize

My own hopeless reprise

Nothing was for you, even I was clueless too

FUCK every part of that place you felt proud.

CRASH far from where I'm bound

Everything you wanted on your own

I yelled I had it when you left home

That other life appears to get away from

Reality you choose to deviate gone

A Creative Insight

I think I've discovered something deep about myself musically tonight. Basically I've written a bunch of "song lyrics", but tonight as I wrote "lyrics" to the song my band is working on I discovered it. I don't know if I could sing, but I haven't really been writing song lyrics, rather words that the guitar is playing. My words respond with what I feel when I play those notes, what I am trying to say when they blare out through my speakers.

If you want to understand what I'm talking about, I have the lyrics and recording this post describes.

I'm stunned about this discovery into myself and what I am saying.

Hmmm

Do I continue to not sleep at night because of what happened? Or is it because of what is happening?

Dwelling at it's finest

So what exactly happened?

I'm not so sure honestly. Nervousness, trembling, horrible nostalgia? Yes, you could say the least. Fortunately, I happen to have incredible friends who always have my back. I can't say I'm whole, but I can damn sure act like it.

So should I just be the asshole I should be? I fear it would extend beyond who I am, but at the same time feel like the recipient deserves it.

I guess its time to wait and see... the dark seas bring 'bought the plastic beach.

Panic Attack

Today sucked. Bottom line. But as a pick me up, I currently can't hear anything because my face was in front of my (amp) stack all night jamming out to whatever I could scream. I think my signature move is to eat my amp while I close my eyes and dream up what I wish I could transpire and play.

Not much else to describe right now, I am too blown away by todays events and stunned by tonight's festivities.

"I wake alone

in a woman's room I hardly know.
I wake alone
and pretend that I am finally home.

The room is littered
with her books and notebooks
I imagine what they say, like,
"Shoo fly don't bother me."
I can hardly get myself out of the bed
for fear of never lying in this bed again.

Oh Christ, I'm not that desperate.
Oh no, oh God. I am.

How'd I end up here to begin with?
I don't know.
Why do I start what I can't finish?
Oh please don't barrage me
with the questions
to all those ugly answers.
My ego's like my stomach,
it keeps shitting what I feed it.

But maybe I don't want to finish anything anymore.
Maybe I can wait in bed 'til she comes home
and whispers,
"You're in my web now,
I've come to wrap you up tight
'til it's time to bite down."

I wake alone
in a woman's room I hardly know.
I wake alone
and pretend that I am finally home."

~Cursive

Can't Resist

"Suck it up and kill me Carolyne"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3PgEDeSION0

Maybe I've Realized ______ ________

How? I dream like you do, however I randomly get a thought of the day. Yet this thought seems full of Jealousy, Admiration, and Respect. Its quite simple to who know what this means:

I wish I had, or knew how this works:

Into

I think I need an artist; someone who knows expression beyond direction. Direction always fucked with creativity.

2 people, one voice. Fucking loud my friend.

Last impression of the night to all:

(Read Post before this one for some very slight clarification)

Nonsense and I had a forgetful conversation. Back and forth through my mind, like a cigarette. The message came through my eyes said leave it alone. Good for you if you just picked up on the last two sentences. (Related to Above...) Nonsense says more inspiration, yet 11 isn't loud enough on my amp. I think its time to roll back to my classic high school set up. Let's blow through to your soul.

My good ol' days, soon to return at full volume: (but never quite loud enough)

Hey Charlie - "I'd pay my life to hear you two play live together onstage"

A washed up day? I doubt it. Sure I dealt with nonsense, but I tend to find myself embellishing in other peoples ridiculousness. As a spectator, I am subjected to what is able to be observed. Despite this, the observed nonsense transformed into inspiration.

How could nonsense turn to inspiration? Well, my band jammed tonight. To play loud enough to reach the soul, I introduced the lot of us to Brandon. For those who read but don't know, Brandon happens to be the secret weapon. As my best friend since birth, we've played music together in various bands for the past 10 years. However this jam session was the first in about 2 years. SO much shit happens in that time. Our styles have grown and transformed, and seem to benefit from this difference. The ability to add one side to a two sided story evokes creativity beyond description. I'm talking about just closing your eyes and playing what ever note you feel out, no theory, no telling what note it is, no bullshit. Screaming out inspiration as loud as possible while jamming with a legend? Sounds like fucking euphoria.

That it was, yet you weren't there, but if you want a memory from it, ask nonsense: "What is inspiration?". Nonsense knows exactly.

In other ^Modest^ News:

Shot a Hole in One?

Shaved my Sideburns?

Smashed a Guitar?

Take your pick....only one of the above three statements is true...

"Some kind of nature, some kind of soul"

- Lou Reed

I need to find another who understands me.