where are you friends tonight?

i got into an argument with my cousin last night. we were doing the typical bullshit, trying to record music, trying to play music, until we realized the sound card on his laptop was faulty, so we gave up. i voiced my usual frustrations about not being able to do what i wanted to do: be in a band, write good songs, and actually have fun playing them. it's the same rant i give about almost everything. i don't know how to properly explain it, but i will try. i think the source of this frustration is watching everyone else succeed and at least emit the illusion of happiness. as veronique vienne once wrote, "our biggest fear is being left behind while everyone else hurdles towards their destinations." or something like that. basically, it comes down to this. go see sigur ros play and then try writing your own music. or read raymond carver's short cuts and try writing your own short story. the arcade fire tours the world, and rich white girls get to spend all day pursuing master's degrees, writing amazing stories and consequently receive recognition for their efforts. and yes, i am talking about than just one rich, white girl.

i don't know how to get over disappointment. that must be my biggest problem. two paragraphs into every story, and i know it's shit. i can feel it's shit. two verses into a song i write, and it's already un-listenable. i think max fisher puts it best when he tells his dad, "i've been out to sea a long time." it's this horrible feeling when there's this pressure that you impose on yourself to be creative, to do something spectacular, but burden yourself with so much self-doubt that it's nearly impossible to pursue anything of value.

and it's so much easier to just get a j.o.b. that will stunt creativity at all costs. toe the line. to bask in the warmth of hdtv rays, and turn your home into an ikea furnished zoo.


grachan moncur said...

this is from mickey z's blog:

Friday, June 22, 2007
Joe from Oregon sends "hugs and madness"

Regular visitors to this blog (a.k.a. “Expendables") come and go. For example, Mudge, Amelopsis, Owen, RT, Youngfox, Chris, Jeremy, Deb, Frances, SK, Banta, and many others have not been seen for quite some time. One such prodigal son/daughter is Joe from Oregon (not to be confused with “Joe from Maine"). Well, he and I have stayed in touch and I recently told him about some of the ups and downs (mostly downs) in my life. I also mentioned I might give up writing and try to “reinvent” myself. Longtime Expendables will recognize Joe’s inimitable (and much missed) style, heart, and perspective in his reply:

Well, hell - you need not reinvent yourself. You’re an extraordinary man, just as you are. Just BE yourself… do what you love to do. If “something comes of it,” great! If not, you still get to do what you love to do. Study, write, think, wonder, wander, love and be loved… BE Mickey… #### the rest of it.

I know - we still gotta work at ridiculous jobs, tossing our time away as if it wasn’t the single most precious thing in the world. But - so be it… We’ll both be dead in a fairly short time. We’ll work when we must work, pause when we can, laugh and write and read when we can, love and be loved whenever we can… And then we’ll be dead.

I spent much of my life rushing, always rushing toward - hell, I don’t even know what anymore: Some ideal, some concept of how “it” and I should be. Time, itself, slowed me down - I can’t claim any merit - but when it did, I realized that I only have right now - even when it sucks. Right now - even when it’s slow or boring or dark or stupid. Just Right Now… Sweating in the sun with a big wheelbarrow - right now. Hot and tired and annoyed - right now. But how much sweeter it is, now that I’m not ALSO, ALWAYS trying to rush off toward some future image of a different me… some weird ideal of “the REAL joe, doing what he’s destined to do...” Ha! Gag…

There’s right now, and a huge pile of mindstuff… You can’t fight with the mindstuff, can’t ever defeat it - but you can laugh at it. Big belly laughs - real and liberating. #### it. Right now, you’re Mickey Z, a helluva guy. Just be yourself, right now, my friend.

Hugs and madness to ya, Mickey.

- the old guy out west

Naomi said...

Well, Have you ever considered that you might be living the dream? I mean, you're living at home, sure but you have time to read all day, listen to music and learn about compost piles. You have people to hang out with and go to sweet concerts like the Arcade Fire. You have no mortgage or huge credit card debt. What you lack in 'purposeful job' you could make up for with volunteering or just pursuing whatever interests you at the moment.

Just saying, it's possible.

And you can't write this emo- depressed jaded blog while writing about going to see The Arcade Fire. SO shut up or I'll fly to Sacramento and kick you in the face.

Dtrap134 said...

I'll admit that some of the things that were said were pretty hurtful, but I never did properly thank you for Friday or apologize for Saturday. So here is my apology, but I'm saving my thank you for when I can think up something crazy in return.