Yesterday I was out mowing yards near my house.  I was walking into the truck to do my routine of getting a quick drink before I stated another yard.  I sat down in the seat and just tried to enjoy my citrus green tea. The truck was parked in the garage and there is a window at the end of that garage that looks out right at our front door.  From where I was standing I was in perfect line with the front door of my house.  I really began to analyze the door and all that it had meant to me in my life.  I looked back and thought of how many times I have walked out that door on an adventure and how all those things that I did shaped who I am and what I am all about.  It all started at that front door, me walking out and taking the first step into the world that I have experienced so far.  I became thankful for a lot at that moment and realized that I might have bad days, but good is winning.  This post is a little corny, along with the rest, but I can't help but to think that that window is symbolic in the fact that the door represents my growing years and all that I have done while walking out of the door into chaos that has become me.  As I shape that chaos I become better aware of what all of it means to me.  We take experiences and make them something that only we can understand.  The better part of it all is making sense of the mess and sharing it with people in a way they can understand it and feel it in a way that reflects how you experienced it.  The days are counting down till one day soon I will take my last step out of that front door.

All that we can see

creates around us

a sense of security

the boundary line

of what separates 

you and me

is something of a line

that has become murky

but one thing is for sure

I know the truth

and it lies inside 

of what we can see

just look deeper 

and you will find me

Maybe one day

I will one day

have a day

like no other day

like most days

the day goes by 

goes by and by

and by and by

until one day 

you see a day

that compared to

no other day

of your previous days

face me watching me

my face upright

face that bright night light

in the sky

until I turn away from that big bright light 

and turn to you

to say

fuck you

have a good night.

Since we are what?
what are we to say
who we are
if all that we are
is what we are
and that is...

I was dreaming today and realized exactly what I want in my life.
Of course everyones dream is to be free, but what is free exactly?
To me it is this, this is my dream.
owning multiple tiny houses in different locations in the United States
Having one near a beach or on the beach in Santa Monica
Being an established musician, meaning I work when I want on what I want to be working on, creating what I want to be creating how I think I should be creating it without an entity behind me telling me what and how to create.
Having my own space to myself and having ample amount of reflection time on the beach
Being free from debt
Have a good education behind me
Write a book
Read books by the sea
Never losing my sense of wonder
Having enough money to live on and travel with
Having good security for my tiny homes
Secluded but not cut off from society
Many connections and many friends
...
The problem is I am stuck in the present and have less and less time to focus on the future of having all of this.  It is a dream, but I believe in my dreams and am doing my best to keep that alive, no matter how many times I tell myself I am stuck.  Working hard, learning, creating.

how would it feel to just run.

We had a cat die this morning.  I woke up around 10, walked downstairs like I would on a normal morning and took my clothes I was going to wear and put them in the dryer to get warm.  I journyed down the stairs and walked right past the box and didn't even notice.  I was then eating breakfast and my mom came down the stairs like something was wrong and told me she had something sad to tell me.  I blew it off because sad things to her aren't always that sad to me.  She told me the cat died and it was quite a surprise actually.  I felt a little sad, but not too overwhelmed with grief because I hadn't been too emotionally attached to the animal.  When my mom went back upstairs I was struck with temporary grief because just the day before I noticed the cat on my bed, something she had never done before.  I walked in and smiled at the cat and started petting it then went on my way.  Now she is dead, just like that.  I am greeted by death very often and the more I am greeted, the more I become aware of how fast this life will pass by.  When things like this happen I am often reminded that my silly little existential funks mean nothing compared to turning into dust.  A little line I read a few days ago also helped me become aware of this again.  This is an excerpt from T.S. Eliot's "The Wasteland".

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,	20
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,	25
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust

I have been working in reaktor a lot here lately, that and trying to get acquainted with using reaktor with the lemur.  Serious stuff it is, but I do not have a serious enough career to put it to use.  I feel silly with all this expensive equipment right now, almost as if I skipped steps to get what I want.  It's alright though I have learned.  It just pushes me that much further to get on to what I want to be doing in life.  I am being forced to learn complicated technology this way, without the barrier of an institution leading me in my development as an artist and musician.  Some might say this is ridiculous but I like to give a shot at something different, and I am certainly becoming more disciplined this way.  I have never been one for tradition, so this is far from tradition.  It's liberating.

Time to get the bass back out and begin a long process of creation.  I always try to get away from the bass but after all I have tried, I still come back to it.  Looking for custom pickguards now and I must say I feel a little better than before.  Some moments, as more likely will come, are just moments where we are afraid or lonely.  I was feeling both today, so I had to talk myself out of feeling sorry for myself.  It is a hard task to do because it is so easy for us to feel sorry for ourselves and can trap us at times for a very long time.  There comes a point when we just have to look inside and say fuck it, everything will be fine, or else we will find ourselves somewhere we thought we would never see ourselves.  Buried head deep in the ground of ourselves, so cut off from everything.  I've been there, but it's time to get out of there.  I'm working on it. Slow process.

Do you ever just have a day where you wonder why that day feels significantly different, depressingly different.  It all seems to crowd from behind and swallow us with one attack like it was an unexpected outcome.  I am having a day like that.  It feels like I felt one year ago, with the cold weather starting to come in.  I am particularly worried about this winter.  The winter before I went through a little depression, but I have been struggling the whole summer to the present with keeping myself from falling apart.  I am severely burnt out on life right now and am at the point where I do not want to keep trying, but I know I have to keep going.  Between the demands of my online schooling and my home life, I am not happy.  I do not study what I wish to study, and I do not live where I wish to live.  I cannot be content with my life when I have fucking images in my head of something better.  Goddammit it won't go away from me.  What is in my head will not leave me alone until I get to that place.

Bang my head upon the rock

Dripping blood mixes with the dirt

becomes dried upon the earth

to learn that nothing stays fresh

just like that it all dried up. 
It will.

Battling time
time trying to make me
Me make my time
always a pressure to make

Wind whips hard upon me
my face is becoming burnt
upon the side I am always trying to show
move my face to the other side

I go back for more always
Addiction making me want more
Making me make more time for more
time for more time for more time

The cycle goes on

Time battles
time travels
with or without
always leaving me broken and bruised

When I look into myself I become scared
I really have no idea where I have gone...I feel nothing anymore.
Slowly I am becoming like all I never wanted to be, the enemy of feeling.
My drive is becoming less and less every time I evaluate
My evaluations are thorough and I can never find anything shiny
I pull through everything to get to myself, but nothing comes up, only crumbs of what I once was.
Where have I gone?
The only thing worse than dying is being alive and feeling nothing
Maybe it is because I am living a not so adventurous life.
Or maybe something is wrong with me mentally.
I don't know how to keep faith anymore and frankly can't save up money.
My ideas are still thriving through all of the mess though
My art is the only ticket to a better life.
Focusing hard.
The only thing left.

Interacting with people is a good thing.  Always look for people with similar ideals to make conversation with.  Not only will it help fill the gap of questions you have been wondering, but making friends somehow puts something in you that is good and makes you feel great.  Solitude is nice, but a good conversation is great.

I have decided that I am going to pursue the arts a little further.  It has been a small dream of mine to study something I love at an art school.  I really liked the art institute museum in Chicago, so it would be amazing to go there, but of course that costs money.  I would just like to really dive into what I love doing and create something extraordinary.