10/16/24-10/18/24

October 16th

I had a gum abscess I popped on my own. It only hurts a little bit now that I accidentally reopened the wound flossing(I thought it had healed since it’d been a week). I think I’ve incorporated this discomfort into my OCD the past few weeks. Every time I make cold foam at work and the milk-frother touches the edges of the tin it feels like my teeth are going to shoot out of my mouth. I feel my soul scream. I keep having intrusive thoughts to jump in front of train tracks on my way home from work or to leap from the fourth floor of the parking structure attached to Sierra Madre Villa station. I have the incessant compulsion to say hurtful things to heavy set women, even or maybe particularly if they are nice to me when they order. It is mentally exhausting and I think it’s all surging from the onset pressure of delivering this record. Usually it’s about control over things around you. I think it really became a large part of my life after my near death experience but I definitely had it before. Probably explains a lot of my adolescent awkwardness. I remember one time I broke down crying because Cristina moved some tapes I perfectly arranged on the coffee table. I feel like I need to remove my right molar with a pair of pliers. 

I laid on my back facing the grey sky. I was laying on the grass in the park. I hadn’t done that in a while. It felt good. A clock tower rang in the near distance. The ground was so cool and gentle. It calmed my spirt. The smell of the near pines bordering my view of the overcast blanket of cloud overhead intertwined with the vapor rising off the wet grass. The whirr of buses and cars spiraled around me like the sounds of the sea. I needed a drink and to have sex with a beautiful woman. Probably in that order. I have found that I am calmest when I am having sex, or when I am playing music. Unfortunately, cryobank puts a schedule on the former and it is killing me not to have sex 6 times a day and rail LSD every week. In fact, tomorrow I'm expected there. During all these acts there is a dissolution of myself, or maybe of control. I disappear for a moment, I relinquish control and allow myself to simply be a conduit. A combination of well trained instinct and whatever the universe or my environment wills for the moment. Soon though I’d be rid of the contract, cryobank that is. I'd finally be free, but also left with lighter pockets. I’ve no idea what I’ll be doing, where the future would be. If any of my grand plans would pan out. I’ve pulled off the impossible thus far but how far could I go? I was reminded of a Bukowsky quote. Me and my medium-sized cock were in trouble. I had negative eight dollars in my bank account, and a variety of debts. I wished I could drink and have sex with every beautiful woman in the world, a harem orgy that would drown me to death. But, I also needed to track bass and change for the performance tonight. 

October 18th

I worked 6 days in a row and this is my second 6 day week. Can't wait to have time off. My friend and coworker Michelle had her wedding on Sunday. It was a beautiful wedding and unfortunately there was A LOT of alcohol that went into my body. I couldn't stay at the wedding which I went to immediately after work, because I also had to go do karaoke with my friend Kris from Phaeic. He offered me a free drink and I am a man of conviction. I say I'll do something, I mean it. So I drank a lot of kirkland tequila and beer. Then, I went to the Verdugo bar and met Kris. I drank some buffalo trace on the rocks, then politely went to the restroom to politely vomit. Then, I performed Human Fly by The Cramps. I killed. Then Victor(guitarist of Phaeic) poured Jim Beam down my throat and his friend whose name I forgot performed something drunkenly and poorly but I stood there supporting him because I liked him enough. Don't remember his name though. He got kicked out of the bar for whatever reason. I performed Psycho Killer and killed again, even more this time. Kris drove me home because I live 5 minutes away. He has footage somewhere. This is all context for the beginning of my week, hungover at work then sparring at muay thai. Then again work, bass, blah blah blah blah blah blah. The show was whatever, we did good and got great footage but it was too late on a weeknight and everyone left by the time we got on stage haha. Their loss, but no hatred it was past midnight by the time we started. Because Michelle is on her honeymoon I'm taking on extra shifts. I can't wait for the week to be over and for me to have more time to work on the record. Clearly, I don't know how to relax but I'm a man of responsibility and I'm only satisfied when debts are fulfilled. yada yada blah blah something something what was I talking about. Going to get a tattoo of Pontius Pilate and Jesus Christ ascending the moonbeam from The Master and Margarita on my fretting hand soon. Oh yeah I remember we mocked the Julie NME photos that night before we played to a room of 12 people. As things should be. I can't wait for this record to come out and we start playing to rooms of 20 people instead. I have no clue what I'm doing. bye I love you all ha ha IDIOT SONG DRAFT 1:

how could I have have known,

you’re my enemy?

I expect none but pray for mercy. 

two girls were kissing at a party

filled with assholes on the verge of climax,

where you know all the people, 

but no one will know to which cathedral you’ve been.

who were we then? 

A moment is all you have, why cast all illusion aside,

next time you get yourself off,

on the cost of tomorrow?

nobody will want you,

you’re already used up.

where are we now?  

my neighbor was screaming

i couldn’t understand a single thing

but I handed him a rock 

and he didn’t receive it well

all the people are drinking champagne,

on red carpets to diamond splattered orgies,

and the servile youth burn alive

I don’t understand but,

maybe when I wish upon shooting stars

I’ll remember the cruelty raining down

from the shroud of this sunshine city

I don’t understand. 

I don’t know.

Forgotten Song:

So easy to forget what we were doing,

But it was something so free,

Damned if I’m not sideways intoxicated,

Drowning in a bedlam harem of women. 

Shoulders to cry on, become elbows to rub against.

Are we condemned to the same lies again?

A kiss to welcome the wrong hands?

Have you forgotten me?

because i’ve forgotten myself by the end

forget me

forget her

forget him

forget us all finishing note: clearly in my poetry or lyrics recently I'm fixated on women banging or banging women but what sane human being isn't? Really I think I just want to escape myself. Admittedly Idiot Song was originally called HTRK sexy song so I think I'm really just trying to get there, to write that.