Howlin' On the Radio

Current Tunes; The annoying, unceasing blare of DJ-ing outside at the pool; did you ever consider maybe some of us want some peace and quiet around here? Hmmm? Trying to drown it out with: Counting Crows - Walkaways

I’m going to drink all the Jack Daniels in this glass, period. Homework be damned. It’s too noisy outside anyway to accomplish anything, I might as well get wasted. By myself, because that’s what I am now. Everyone’s moved out of the apartments now, and I’m just left here, caught in the vortex that is every bad decision I’ve made in the past year. Short, lazy months have turned into another year gone by. I’m not sad everyone’s gone, indeed I’m relieved in a way. To be sad at this juncture would be healthy though. No, I’m just pissed because there are no distractions anymore, and I’m left here to face the harsh reality that then next three months are the difference makers. The playoffs are coming and we haven’t been practicing at all. So screw it, time to get numb. We can start on the 2nd. The 2nd of August.

Plenty of artists made their best works completely blitzed on some drug of one kind or another. I think it’s time to start employing that strategy. Alcohol has always been the drug of choice for tortured writers, just ask Hemingway, or James Frey (HA!).

I have a strange memory that will always stick in my head about writing. I remember one of my creative writing professors, Dr. Brown, talking about his personal writing process, and how he’d just sit in the room and do it, with the only environmental requirements being jazz and a bottle of whiskey. Not quite in the mood for jazz, but the whiskey is definitely here. He’d say he wouldn’t stop writing until like, half the bottle was gone, at least that’s what I think he said.

I miss Dr. Brown. He always told it to me like it was, never babied me around. I feel like I’ve let him down. He always knew I was crazy, and I think he liked that about me. It’s the weirdest thing; sitting in his office, I felt like an artist there, at least a growing, developing one. Then I went to SCAD; now instead I feel like a product. Dr. Brown knew I wasn’t a product then, he gave me hope. God, he gave me hope. There are a lot of emotions, thoughts I haven’t had or felt in the past couple of years, hope I think is the one I miss the most.

No, I don' t exactly know exactly why I feel like let him down.

I guess I’m really so emotional right now because this is it. This is a place to be marked, for significance. This is your last chance...

An album I’ve never stopped loving is "August and Everything After,” what I’m listening to now, and I always thought that was the best title for anything, ever. I love that title because it makes a distinction between the simple “from this moment onward” and the reality of the situation; the reality of life. You don’t really just opt to one day never wear red t-shirts anymore, or give up chocolate, or whatever. The first phase is the big part, that first month; the part where you declare your dominance over the inconceivable weight that holds you back and you can’t goddamn take it anymore and nothing, not even that, is going to fucking stop you. So that’s why it’s “August and Everything After,” that first part is the start of something different; it’s the start of something new.

On a side note, I think I discovered a more concrete explanation/interpretation of that album's title. Apparently Adam Duritz, the lead singer of Counting Crows, was born on August 1st (today). I never knew that, and I've been following/loving/celebrating this band for years. Happy birthday, Adam. You're an inspiration to me.

It’s funny how much different you behave when you know no one’s around. This is the only night I’ll have like that for a long time, I’m sure. The best part about this is being able to sing out song after song without worrying if anyone will hear me. Some people dance in their underwear in their homes when no one’s there, and the night is still young I suppose. Anything can happen, I guess. It's not really the assurance that I'm avoiding embarrassment; it's because in those single moments, you are what I want to be always, at every moment: free.

Oh god, it makes me want to cry forever when I think about how terribly badly I want something new. I'd give anything for that. I'd give anything for a chance to do it right this time.

I miss going for walks in my neighborhood in the night. I would do it all the time. I would just walk in the dark, up and down streets, looking at the trees. There’s nothing that stops me from doing that here in Atlanta, I suppose.

Except that I’m too scared to just do it. Maybe not forever though; maybe one day the courage will come. The best thing about those walks wasn’t the exercise or the uniqueness of it, or even the night. The night is always my favorite thing. No, those times the great comfort was the silence of only my person, my thoughts, and the music I listened to when I walked. These days, the one activity I engage in most often day to day is running away from reality. But those nights, blanketed by stars and smiled down on by gods and fates, in the dark nights of the town I'd been condemned to, I could just turn around without any measurable pressure, and just walk away.