Hank Williams, I'm A Ramblin' Man

My girlfriend tells me that I don't understand her. And she doesn't understand me. But this is okay because we love each other.
Hmm.
There was a point in my life; a few years ago, when I had some money saved up. I had a goal. An escape plan. Only a handful of people can appreciate my gifts here, so why continue to waste my energy with a place and a people who don't want me, right? I was going to get out. And then the girl I was in love with told me she didn't love me anymore. (She told me, years later, that she had lied.) And then I lost a large part of my savings buying a laptop on Ebay that never existed. (I had more than $2100 stolen from me. And yes, I hold Ebay accountable for playing "middle man" while not compensating their users when the deal gets fucked by fraudulence.) So I decided I couldn't keep money any more. Money didn't like me. I worked my fucking ass off to get that money. To save money for a laptop, which would have opened up performance opportunities. It was supposed to be like a new chapter in my life or something. But instead I just had my savings stolen and the little money I had left after that, I didn't want that anymore either. So, I spent it all on music. After I add up they money I lost from the roommate who owes me over $1000, the shit dodge shadow I paid way too much for, and then the theft of more than $2100 via Ebay, I just didn't want money anymore. Why should I? The reason I was saving money vanished. And after all that hard work, most of it was taken from me anyway. So what was the point? If I had money, it was eventually stolen from me. I hated money. I loved records. The solution was obvious.

But now I have a goal again. Someplace to go. Something to save money for. Something that really matters. Even more than records. (I know, can you fucking believe it?) And that changes things. I'm just scared of repeating the cycle all over again. This next thing doesn't work out and then... where does that leave me? Back here. In debt 12 miles below sea level. And nothing to look forward to. A depressing thought.

So does she understand this? I don't know what my girlfriend understands. Especially when she gets drunk and has fun and I'm stuck here doing the same shit nearly every weekend. We live completely different lives. Can we live them together?

I like this new Planetary Assault Systems twelve-inch. It's a nice return to Luke Slater's earlier output before he got illusions of pop grandeur. Very nice. I'd like to buy it. But I'm afraid to start chasing that dragon again, to get all obsessed about the "black beauty" and forget about life. Fuck that. I need to reconnect. I need to really WANT something again that feels achievable. Not just some goal in which I don't even know in what direction to take that first step--wherein my perfectionism inhibits me to a paralyzing degree--in which I do nothing.

But I'm ready to fight my way out of this paralysis. All the ideas are still there. All the creativity and energy and ambition... it's all there. I'm not tired. Frustrated? Of course. But not tired. It takes so little to inspire me. The smallest opportunity and I'm immediately hardcore dedicated. Preparation flowing at 120%. No time for much else. And that can be really fantastic. A great drug. Even better than the Nyquil and 2 Klonopin that I just took.

Most people are already alseep by now. Before 7 a.m. Not me. I need drugs to tell my brain to stop. Otherwise it can keep me up for days. I can't recall what my exact record is for consecutive hours without sleeping. I know it's more than 50. I've skipped 2 nights of sleep before. It feels like shit, but the mild hallucinations can be interesting. Mostly I just see human figures moving in my periphery. It's not scary. I know my brain is just tired and i'm seeing things that don't exist.

I guess this was a rambling post.
My girlfriend always tells me that I never have a point when I communicate.
But what's the use of having a "point"?
Fuck that. Communication is about the interaction, not getting some kind of message or bottom line outlined and bullited. Communication is expressing an idea. I don't need a goddamn point. I don't even need to follow a theme or stick to the topic that I may have begun with. My mind doesn't work like that.

And besides, this writing is for me. Not you. If you find any of this useful in your own life, then that's a cherry. It's wonderful, actually. I LOVE audiences. I'm a performer, by nature. When I perform for an audience that cares, it's one of the few times I connect with people, something I need to feel far more often. The lack, thereof, making me want to just end it all.

So... what the fuck was I supposed to be talking about... ?

Fuck it. I'm sleepy.
Drugs are quick.

Wait, before I pass out at my keyboard, here's some knowledge for those of you who don't know:
Marko Fürstenberg - "Cocktail Royale".
Buy it. I would LOVE to buy this record but Forced Exposure never has this slice of heaven in stock, even though it's been in their goddamn inventory for over a month now. The downside is that the c*(ksmack pressed FIVE FUCKING LONG TRACKS on this record. What the fuck was he thinking? He could have doubled his money by pressing a 2x12". I certainly love to pay extra for well-pressed vinyl. What vinyl enthusiast doesn't? Muthafuckers better recognize.
Knowhatimean?

I got a thousand more secret gems for you. All in my head.
If I was an obnoxious douchebag I'd be all like, "TIP!"
God I fucking hate djs.
What a bunch of assholes.
Not you, of course. If you're still reading this, then you are most likely one of the good djs. They're rare as hell. But they do exist.
So if that's you, one of the good ones, take some comfort in that. Even if no one knows who the fuck you are. Because you KNOW.
Ever been to a place where you're surrounded by people who KNOW? God that's heaven.
Sometimes MUTEK felt like that.
It felt like heaven.