Wheel Wars, Life Is A Near Death Experience, Ginger Ale-ienation
This is also kind of how Monte reacts
when we get heavy.
Longing played our first show in a long time last night. The journey there was fucking dumb, it was the 2nd or 3rd time I have had to change a tire on my way to or from Kalamazoo. It started making a noise and so I thought "I'll get off at the next exit and check it out." Then it started shaking the car just a little bit and I decided to pull over and look to be safe and found a smoldering pile of wire and tar. I couldn't believe how bad it was without being more noticeable. It's as if Newman got caught in the wheel well after that Dilophosaurus spit toxic sludge on him in Jurassic Park. So I knelt down in the rain putting a spare on while semi-trucks almost clipped me. But I made it there eventually and was surprised by the turn out. We played really well actually and it made me excited to try and stay motivated with that band. That band is really something special to me. It's different from most bands I have been in where you have to practice so much to make the live performance even decent to watch. I still think the more you practice the better off you will be, but we just sort of get carried away in the storm and just do what we do best. I am hoping to do some recording in the not too distant future and go from there. The future looks gloomy for Longing, which of course means "coo." All in all I guess it was worth missing Henry Rollins last night. I will always have that $23 piece of paper to remind me of a great night where I played a show instead of seeing Henry Rollins. I'm sure he'd understand.
That shit ain't vegan.
Unfortunately due to the tire fucking up and other reasons I had to leave before I could watch Planning For Burial's set which will forever cause me to wear sorrow and regret upon my face. But Thom was gracious enough to give me one of his EP's and I listened to it 4 times back to back on the drive home. I thought about a lot of things. I thought about if I drove off into the night and was never seen again and whether I would be missed. I sat in amazement at how the most beautiful things are the creation of tortured souls. It also reminded me of how I will never forget the way the white arches of the Mackinaw Bridge looked on the drive home from a camping trip I took with my dad and brother when I was 9. I was so distraught when I got home that my mom cheered me up with a new Winnie the Pooh movie. Which made me recall how the worst moments of my life were always haunted by sunlight creeping through blinds. Blinds will always make me uneasy. Black it all out. But my greatest fear has always been looking inward. I am grateful that I have the courage to look into the abyss of myself. I always grow and learn more about myself every time I do. And I almost pity these people who are addicted to happiness. They will never have the power to inspire nor will they ever hear the siren's call of illumination. Fucking pathetic if you ask me. Willfully mundane, blissfully forlorn.
But a side story to all of that is when Thom gave me the EP some shitter with a serious case of "Ginger-Vitis" was standing nearby and interrupted with "Oh those are free? Can I have one?" Firstly, they were not actually free and this shit-whistle was just swooping in and taking advantage of someone's generosity. But he gave the kid one if only to shut him up, but then he just sort of awkwardly tried to be a part of a conversation he was never welcomed into. Do you ever have that happen? Where you are hanging out with a friend and some turd-tarantula walks up and pollutes the air with fruitless ventilation? "Yeah totally...so yeah....beer is cool huh? Yeah...I like beer...you guys like beer? Yeah cool...I wasn't hugged as a child how bout you guys? Yeah...totally..." They just keep going despite it being completely obvious that they are not being received whatsoever. Kerry King help us. People are so fucking dumb. People just need to learn to shut the fuck up more and save the rest of us some oxygen. You don't need to talk all the time and fill the space you occupy with nothingness. No one gives a fuck. Give up, shut up, don't make eye contact and then quietly rot into obscurity. That's my life motto.