Six strings, a few pieces of wood, a little metal, and maybe some wires. That’s all it is. Physically, its as simple looking as could be. But the emotion, the soul, that is contained in the grain of this beast is so much more. From Slash, to Clapton, to Stevie Nicks, to Carlos Santana, Syd Barrett, and the list goes on and on. Each and every player has that distinct tone, that primal emotion, that makes them not only incredibly distinct, but absolutely unforgettable. I still find it cute, almost quaint, when someone tells me they don’t play an instrument. How can you not??? There are so many to pick from! You don’t even have to be good, just pick it up, and suck at it. Bow your cello too hard! Squeak the reed on your clarinet! And most of all, play that shitty power chord!!! Guitar is awesome. The road of where to put your fingers is already there. A C, Gm, and Am7, and boom, you’re playing Landslide, you talented little shit! C, D, G, and Am, and you’ve got Wish You Were Here! Sure, there are always the solos, but you don’t even have to know that. Just improvise something. That’s what music is all about, finding something old, throwing your soul at it, and making it new. Is it better than the original? Doubt it. Is it even good? DOESN’T MATTER! It’s you. It’s your heart, and it’s your style. I’ve been playing for six years, still just a newly pubescent twelve year old as far as musical maturity. But it’s such an expansive subject, one person could never learn all that it contains. It’s an addiction, making music. Once you get down on the frets, you never come back up. I’ve played till my fingers bled, and loved every second of the pain, then i coated them in super glue, and kept at it. It takes practice, without a doubt, but it will pay off. You’ll be intoxicated by it. Enthralled with it. I just can’t explain the feeling, I don’t think any player can. I think the hope for this post, is that at least one person out there will see this and think, “Hey, you know what, I’m going to drop seventy bucks on a crappy electric/acoustic, and be the next Hendrix.” And I hope you do. Just try it. Give it an hour a day for a couple months, and you’ll be in love. I promise.
Dangerous
I think one of the most dangerous and painful emotions to be felt is hope. In some cases it can be a salvation, but from my experience, its never been much help. I try to be hopeful, but it always hurts. There are many types of the emotion. The one of which I’m speaking of is the hope of change. Never before have I felt such disappointment, pain, and solemness, as I did when I put hope in your ability to change. And it’s not a large request. Probably the smallest I’ve ever made. I didn’t ask for you to completely change your actions, or beliefs, or attempt to inconvenience you in any way. I merely asked for a warning in advance. Nothing that i don’t do for you. If I’m not going to be able to talk ALL day, i let you know at least a day before. Usually earlier. It takes just as much effort to message the day before as ten minutes before. I think I’ll stop doing that. Not just stop telling you my plans, but anything going on in my life. You haven’t changed one single bit. You’re still exactly the same. Maybe I’m asking more than you’re capable of. Or I’m asking too much too soon. I don’t think so though. It takes the smallest amount of conscience effort. I’ve said before that I’m done trying, but I’m not. Even if you are. I’m just going to try as much as you do. I hope you’ll see how it feels. I hope that it’ll clue you in to the heartbreak i feel from it. I have far better things to do than talk to someone that doesn’t care about my feelings. You know, there are things i do for you that i don’t like doing at all, but i do it because you’ve said that you enjoy it. And most of the time im willing to do everything for you, but not when nothing is done for me. That may sound selfish, but it’s about time you were,t the only one who was. Do you know what has always, since the day we met, has come first and foremost to me? Your feelings, and your emotions. I’ve tried to look out for those, and have looked out for those, before I’ve even gave mine a thought. I’m not asking you for the same, because i know you aren’t capable. I’m not even asking for you to care about them as much as your’s. I’m asking for you to care about them at all. Take a quick half-second and think about how your actions affect those around you, You love me? You care about me? You sure say you do, but your actions speak much louder than your false witness. I hope you see this, and i hope you take your time to think about what i want, just once. Don’t put my wants or needs before yours, that’s something that comes naturally or not at all, just make an attempt to place them on the same list, or even in the same language as yours. Act like you care. And don’t message me about this post, because it’s not something i want to discuss. This is my space, and my solace when you have better things to do. Actually, i don’t know if i want to talk to you at all today. If you can’t tell, I’m not really feeling the whole act like it doesn’t hurt thing today. That’s what i do all the damn time. I act like what you do doesn’t hurt me, when, in reality, it’s cuts me to the bone. It hurts more than any physical pain I’ve ever felt. And I’ve had more than my fair share of it. Well, thats all for this one. I have better things to do than wait around to talk to you for thirty minutes until i bore you to sleep, like every time we talk. Goodbye, I’ll probably read you messages and not respond, like you do mine.
Self Harm
What is it in our minds, in our genome, that gives humans the capacity to proceed with actions we know will harm us? Be it bruising, cutting, not eating, drugs, etc., etc., etc., it seems like a unsettling number of the population has an illness along these lines. What makes a human feel like the physical harm and detriment they cause is better than the emotional pain that they are feeling? And I realize, not knowing the tone of my thoughts , that this could easily come off as chastising, but i mean this in the most concerned way. I worry about humans. Not all that I have met, but a few, and for all the ones I have yet to meet. I understand self harm as much as I am capable to. The only experience I’ve had with it is starving. But I don’t consider that self harm, not to the extent that i consider cutting,bruising, or the like. My starving was a punishment to myself, not an escape. I did something wrong, i did’t get to eat for a day. As it progressed, the times with which I went without food steadily became longer and longer. Then everything I did was bad and warranted punishment. I eventually got the point where, as a six foot male, I weighed 110lbs, and had roughly 5% body fat. Did that stop it? Absolutely not. It wasn’t until recently, when money has been tight, and food nearly non-existent, that i got may wake up call. I decided, “You know, this whole being hungry thing sucks dick, lets not do this ever again.” But enough of that. This post speaks on a grander scale. What is the cure to self harm? is there a single one, or is it a different cure for everyone? While a wake up call is definitely the thing that makes your journey to betterment begin, its not going to be the thing that makes the change permanent in all cases. We know exactly what we’re doing to our bodies, but that moment of clarity and emotional numbness seems worth it. Whether it be the scars and chance of infection from cutting, the permanent nerve damage and chronic pain caused by bruising, or the illness and general damage caused by drug abuse, it seems like the better option. It just makes me sad, ya know? I wish i knew what the answer to these problems, so that i could have the ability to help people fight past it. And it is a fight. But its a fight against a plauge, not a boxing match. Geez, that sounds conceited, doesn’t it? Like i want to feel needed or important. That’s something else I need to work on. Anyways, i don’t know what to add to this other than, if there is anyone reading this that need someone to vent to or talk to, i will post my Kik username at the bottom. I won’t lie and say i will be able to help in any way, or know what to say ever, but i will listen and try my best. I wish the best to all the wonderful souls out there, (yes, you too,) and know that there will always be someone there, no matter the physical distance, who loves you, and is will to help.
JesseyLacost
Daily Dose of Debauchery
Keeping true to my word, here’s my daily post. Although, I suppose I’ve already fulfilled that for today with my last post. That doesn’t really count though, since it was still part of my previous day. Anyhow, my day’s been pretty good, even with a mere hours sleep. What did i do today? Why thank you for asking. Today, I did soul searching. That’s right. The old cliche thing you’re supposed to do when you need to make changes within yourself. Not even close to finding the anwsers i need, but i think I’ve made a little progress. I thought a lot about her, like every day. She’s such a little cutie. I want to kiss her silly face. Ive thought about what I’m going to do for her for V-Day. I think im going to send her some cute stuff when i get her address. If it’s okay to send her stuff. I worry her parents would wonder. It’s not gonna be anything inappropriate, probably jewelry and a letter and chocolate. Something like that. Why is it such a big holiday? Shouldn’t you let your beloved know what they mean to you? I dunno. I think she thinks it’s important, so I’m going to do my best to make it special for her. She deserves at least that. So why doesn’t she celebrate Steak and a Blow job day? Ladies get a holiday for cute romantic things. Why can’t guys just have a day for a filet and felatio? Oh well, I’m sure plenty of that will be happening in the near future anyway. So yeah, not much else to write here. Good day, but pretty boring. Thus, I, your Minister of Mayhem, shall be signing off now. Stay beautiful, interweb people.
Cloud Nine
Today was an emotional rollercoaster. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. We argue, and bicker, and fight, but we love each other. I think this is the biggest stepbrother us so far. Actually talking about real shit. I don’t feel the need to put on the mask of perfection. And I don’t think she does either. We’re past that euphoric, all consuming honeymoon phase. It was nice, in its own, strange way. But this is better. Now the real relationship starts. I couldn’t be happier. Even with long distance couples, I think that whole, “make-up sex” thing applies. And it’s been a while since we’ve been intimate like that on the phone. I think that’s an important process of fighting. Just like, “I’m sorry for being an asshole, let’s cum together and reaffirm our beautiful bond as a couple.” That sounds like I’m making fun of it. And I’m not, not even close. Physical intimacy is a big part of any relationship, whether it be hypothetical or genuine skin to skin contact. But enough about that. This is about our emotional connection. It’s a beautiful thing. She said, “Fuck you” and I couldn’t be happier. She’s expressing how she feels, and being honest with me. Sometimes I need put in my place. Knocked down a peg. I know, I’m Seventeen and a male, what do I know about relationships? Well blogosphere, your guess is as good as mine. I don’t know much, but I know what I feel. And I feel at peace. I feel hope. And, surprisingly, I feel happy. Like, really really happy. I know there are plenty more fights to come, but we’re both so bull-headed, that we aren’t going to let them destroy us. I don’t know how we can be so dedicated to each other, but we are, and it’s amazing. I’m just swooning over her. I love her more than should be possible. Hope you see this baby, you’re the light of my life.
Angst Vol. 1
I complain a lot about what I don’t like, so I think it’s time I say what I would like. I’d like, just for one day, not to feel like a burden, or like I’m an inconvenience. I’d like to be able to reply to a conversation with “mhmm” or “okay baby” and have her act like she wants to talk. I’m tired of trying to think of things to talk about. It seems like I’ve been the only one trying to for the past few months. I know this has to come off as needy and attention seeking, but it’s just how I’m feeling. I’d like to be the person she looks forward to talking to. Not every day, just one day. I want to feel needed. Because I don’t. I feel like I’m there when it’s convenient. I want someone to actually mean it when they say they miss me. Don’t say that when you could care if we talk. Just don’t. That really irks me. People saying things they don’t mean. Don’t say I miss you, then fall asleep seconds later. I make a point to stay up for you. I stay up 24hrs or more, just to keep my promise of being there whenever you need me. I feel abandoned. Ever single day. I feel unimportant, and unwanted. If that’s the case, say so and leave. Relationships aren’t all or nothing, but they should be something. If I can still find time for you when I’m living hour by hour, wondering where I’m going to go or when I’ll eat, you can find time. No excuse. And this is really pissing me off, because I was having an awesome day. Like, best I’ve had in over a month. Now it’s just shit again. I was looking forward to talking to you. When you take thirty, forty five minutes, even an hour to respond after every message, that tells me you weren’t. And I guess that’s okay. Some days we just don’t talk. I get that. But give me something. Tell me you’re busy. Tell me you don’t want to talk. Something. Don’t just leave me high and dry, wondering if I should stay up and wait for you, or just call it a night. I hate uncertainty. Yes or no. No grey area, no maybes. Just clear, concise decision making. That’s really not that hard. It’s not too much to ask for. I want to feel loved. I tell you how much I love you. If course you dislike yourself so much you shoot down every possible compliment. But still, I fucking try. I’m just tired of it. I’m done. I’m not going to message first, or even try to keep the conversation flowing anymore. I’m done with that. I just don’t care anymore. Us breaking up didn’t hurt this much. At least I know where things stood. This just feels like limbo. Not connected, not quite disconnected. I like black and white. Yes or no. On or off. One or zero. Grey areas irritate the shit out of me. Oh well. I’ve promised to alway be there, and I don’t go back on my word. Ever. My word, and my promises are the most valuable things I have. Whatever, just stupid emotions. I want to turn them off. I know I could. Easily. It’s hard for me to use them, but I struggle every day to keep them on for you. So what does Jessey want? Jess wants appreciation. Jess wants someone that care about him as much as he cares about them. I want a balanced relationship. Someone with whom I’m equally yoked. Not this. Guess I’ll just wait and see like always. I’m the best at waiting. I’m always waiting.
Yin and Yang, or, How We Resonate
Some people resonate with each other, not because they are objectively the same but because they complement each other in interesting ways. We often talk about yin and yang, where two people create a whole circle, but I tend to think more of melody and harmony. It’s not a circle with no holes, it’s a song that resonates and echoes.
Cricket and Butterfly are not a perfect match. First of all, they look too much alike. They have the same color hair, both white with apricot markings in mostly the same places. And they both bark, at different pitches, but not in a harmony of beautiful sound; they are not a choir, they are a cacophony of noise. They are not the same height, but also not opposites, like big and small or fat and skinny. They are just small and smaller. They don’t fill all of the possible…
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I Don’t Cry Anymore
I don’t know what it is. I just physically can’t produce tears. I just don’t feel anymore. I feel happiness once in a while, and maybe love? But with all the shit going on right now, I should have at least shed a tear. And I havent. not a single solitary one. And ive tried. I’ve tried to be sad, and act like I care about stuff. I’m completely numb. I couldn’t be more numb if I had a lobotomy. It’s just shity of me. I should be able to express some sort of emotion. Seeing my mom cry should have an effect on me. But no, I could care less. That’s scary to me. If im capable of feeling nothing like that, what else am I capable of? What else could I do? I’ve always known I could kill somebody. It’s really nothing for me to turn my feelings off. And I don’t mean ignore them. I mean completely remove them from any decision-making. Its funny really, When I think about me killing someone, it’s not emotion that persuades me not to. I wouldn’t feel any remorse for it. Why does anyone deserve to live? Its logic that makes me think better of it. I know I don’t have the intelligence to not get caught. Then id go to prison, and everyone would know im insane. I’m scared. As scared as is possible for someone like me. I hope in time, when I have the ability to legally provide for myself, and am no longer bound to this person who gave birth to me, that ill be able to function normally. I think I deserve that. Although my thoughts are horrible, I’m not. I’m actually a pretty okay guy, I think. My girlfriend says she thinks so too, but I wonder if she just says that to make me feel better. Or to convince herself that she’s not with a lunatic. I think the last time I cried was around september when I got evicted. Before that, not since i was seven or eight. Thats not normal, even for a guy. I just don’t know anymore. I feel like im drifting. Not really belonging anywhere, but still not quite out-of-place. I need therapy. I think that would be a huge help. And medication.chats why I indulge in Cannabis. When I first tried it, I wasnt a big fan. But now, it’s the only thing that makes me feel okay. I’m not addicted or anything. I don’t crave it or have withdrawals, but I know it’ll make me feel better. Okay. Somewhat human. I just need that. I can’t really drink booze anymore. It makes me angry most of the time. It lets out my demons. So I smoke. It lets me be in my head without holding my shield up. I get to be alone with myself, and be okay with my thoughts. Its stops my mind from being all over the place. Well, my grandma gave me $500 for rent, food, and cigarettes, so I have two weeks, food for the first time in three days, and a fucking smoke. Thats really all I have to say, so goodbye folks.
Fuck
Well since the Bae is MIA, and I don’t know what to do, here seems like a good place for this. As she knows, I’m basically homeless. And that’s not a big deal to me, I’ve lived in three different shelters since I was 13ish maybe? Two in Texas, and one here. Right now, I’m sitting on a crapy motel bathroom writing this, and rent is up tomorrow. My mom doesn’t understand, I’m here with her, and going nowhere fast. Both my sisters took off, won’t have any countywide her, and now she’s want to ditch me here. She thinks I’ll be better if she signs me over to the state. It’s just frustrating. I’m a loyal person, to a fault. I’m not going to just go away. I don’t like her a lot of the time, but she’s my mom. She needs someone to lean on. Am I wrong? Am I right? I have no clue. I keep trying to roll with the punches life is throwing, but fuck do I need a breather. I’ve got a bloody nose and a broken jaw, and I’m tired. I wish I had pills. All the years I spent fucking around with them, using em to get high, I was doing it all wrong. I should have saved those bad boys up for a time like this and downed them with Jack. A gun would work, but my mom’s scared of them so we don’t have one. I’d chicken out trying to catch a car with my body. No public buildings tall enough. I was thinking suicide by cop, the ones here shoot anything that moves. But what if they miss? Even worse, if they hit and don’t kill me. If I want to die now, being a vegetable would be worse. Too scared of blades. Ah, a rope. That would be perfect. No mess, no fuss, and I learned how to tie a proper noose years ago. Hmm, where from? I’m thinking the balcony railing. It’s one of those sturdy iron ones, bolted to concrete. More than strong enough, and hopefully enough height to break my neck. God I’m a pussy. I’m so scared of life I want to kill myself, and so scared of dying that I can’t. This sucks.
Better
I want her to be better so badly. I would give my life if it ment hers was easier to live. She deserves someone much stronger, and much kinder than I am. I don’t know how to help fix her. I just don’t know. She’s too young, and far too important to be to be taken from this world. If only she could look through my eyes. Not even for an hour. Just minutes. Seconds. That’s all it would take for her to see my point of view. She always says sorry for things out of her control. Depression? Can’t control it. Self harm? Almost as hard to control. Just stop baby. It’s okay. I knew what I was signing up for, and I’m still here, aren’t I? I still love you just as much. Then, when we get an argument, or she thinks she makes me feel bad, she’s starts sexting. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s hotter than a supernova, but I think she feels like she has to make up for something. I don’t want her to feel like that. Like she owes me that. She doesn’t. I’d be fine if we never talked about it or anything. That’s not what’s important. She is. Her mental health. Her physical health. Her overall quality of life. That’s what gets me off, so to speak. That’s what me happy. Knowing she’s okay. Knowing she’s happy. That’s more satisfying than anything physical. I just want her to be able to say she’s ok. Not lying when she’s saying it. Not forcing it out. Not just automatically saying the line she’s rehearsed for so long.
blueskysredeyes 