Quadrophenia

Willows

2008-02-27T14:36:00.000-08:00

“I want klonopins. These are the only things that provide any amount of relief or help.”

I can't change the schizophrenia medication, because all the other ones will dope me up and make me sleep all the time and I couldn't go to school.

“I can't do it. My boss would have my neck, it is against policy.”

I let that sink in. The small amount of relief, however small, would be gone, and I would continue to descend further down into the living hell that my mind was creating.

He goes “Keep talking though, how have things been going?”

“Well, I might be starting a band, though I don't know how that will go, I'm doing fine in my classes, I constantly think I am bringing evil to the world same old same.”

We talk for a little bit, I give him some samples of my mind, he calls me a deep thinker and he goes “Alright, my boss is going to kill me, but I'll write you the klonopins because you have no other choice.”

I say cool and then he goes “Wait, hold on.”

He starts looking up stuff on his computer. Sometimes I know more about the medications then he does. He tells me I know more than most of his colleagues on how they function and how they work.

“Wait, I think I've got it. Gabapentin, it increases Gaba in the brain like the benzos, but it's different. This should do it.”

Turns out that there's a new experimental Gaba therapy for schizophrenics that I believe Ford even mentioned once.

Turns out it was exactly what I needed.

So now everything is totally different. I still have some weird lingering issues that are holding on, but everyday those are starting to become clearer and make more sense. I am understanding even more of my teachers, if you can believe that.

In fact, it's weird, but now that I am normal again I am starting to talk to some of the kids in my class and I find out that they are struggling. They are studying like crazy in my classes. Honors students even. I never study, or I do it just barely. I have to keep this shit to myself. College has become ridiculously easy for me. I'm starting to branch out socially. The band is getting new members and people are asking for us.

This is fucking amazing.

And so far away

2008-02-12T19:53:00.000-08:00

I know I have been neglectful of you. Bear with me, I am gathering strength.

We played for our third time live, we've practiced maybe 4 or 5 times. First show was recieved really well, I think I told you about that. Second show it was just me and rebecca (guitar and violin) and we got a lot of applause, this was a more serious setting, third show was just last night, we played between a bluegrass band and we fucking killed.

The revolution is here. You heard it first.

Apart

2008-02-05T08:24:00.000-08:00

I know that I have not been good to you in recent days. You have almost forgotten about me. It is cool. It is a bond that we'll create.

There are some things I want to tell you, but first I will post up some lyrics from the band so you can get a small idea for what is going on. I will post up sound soon, don't you fret. The band's name is Graffiti.

Here are some song lyrics. I do not have names for my songs yet, because I am still working on them.

I know that without them being sung, they are probably going to resonate with you differently, but that is okay. Maybe you can form your own idea, then when you will hear the music you will be like Oh.

Or like Wow.

Or something to that effect. Here goes.

This song I haven't played live yet, but it is pretty good. I wrote it when I was going schizophrenic, I like to sing it. It is one of my better sung songs.

And I remember like a dream.
Where you were waiting for me to breathe.
With each moment passing by
Well can I tell you, it's gone away hey hey

And so I fall
And so I fall
Until I find my way home

And I melted like a dream
And I ask you one thing, should I go
Cause I knew nothing but afraid
And all my fears in my blood flow

And so I fall
And so I fall
Until I find my way home

And I said that I knew everything
The most knowing is knowing nothing at all
But faith is suprising in most everything
Because I'll tell you, it's gone away hey hey

Untll I fall
Until I fall
And I find my way home.

So yeah, it's a lot better sung. But it is something. Maybe I will record the songs solo or something on my computer, or maybe I can try and record a jam, if the computer mic works for doing that. I will give you something.

Here is another one, this one I like to sing too. My songs are weird, but they sound nice.

Predisposed for something else
Cataclysmic in your eyes
Could you think on it here
Could you find it here

We will wash away the rain
To find what I can't explain
I was always here for you
Waiting for something to do

And the stars they are alight
Passing by me on this night
Trailing embers surround us all
Matching pieces of our fall

So yeah, I will sing them to you or whatever so you can hear them. They are nice. Those are just the words. I just use the words to sing, but in order to sing them correctly, the words have to match myself or whatever so I can sing it right. I don't know how the process works, but it does.

The Heathens are Among Us

2008-01-30T04:29:00.000-08:00

Yes yes yes, I told you about the music or something. I do not know.

I started a band. It is called The Damn Yankees. I hope that name isn't taken, it probably is.

We are playing songs that I write. People really like it.

This girl Rebecca is the violin player. She has played in many bands, and she has played live many many times. She is my armor and my experienced advisor when it comes to doing this.

We've gotten together twice. Twice for about two hours at a time creating a sound. Then Rebecca drags me and Miles to a bar to play some of my songs.

We have practiced twice, fuck.

But I was like fuck it, let's do this shit.

We go to this bar where another band is playing that rebecca is going to join. This is Tennessee, they are playing country music and bluegrass. When Rebecca is playing these bands, her violin transforms into a fiddle.

Everyone is drinking and listening to southern music. I am telling Miles this is crazy, we are totally not ready. We are not southern.

She asks the band if we can play a song between sets. Dude says no. Then he says yes.

I need a fucking beer.

Leader of the band comes up to me. You guys want to play a song?

Uh, yeah, sure.

Well let's go.

Um, can we wait a little bit until later?

I am waiting for that beer. I want to eat a beer first before I do this. I am trying not to be nervous.

I am getting old though, and more set in my ways, so getting nervous would just be a stupid idea. I controlled it.

No, he says, I cannot wait.

We had just got there.

Shit should have effected me, but it wasn't, because secretly, deep down inside, I knew we had good music, though it was unlike anything anybody has ever heard before.

I am keeping this a secret, because I believe it's true, but I don't know if it was true.

It was true to me, and that's important.

So we get up on stage. I am setting myself up to be comfortable. I drag a chair on stage, people are setting up equipment around me. I have never played my songs live before. Well I did once, years ago, and it went horribly.

I am trying to prevent the horribleness from happening again.

I shook and trembled like crazy last time I did this.

I am trying not to let this happen to me again.

I don't know what I am doing though, with setting up equipment and shit. I am just there to play my guitar and have people listen to our sound. I am going to sing my original songs to these people. Whooo.

They are telling me to check the mike. I am so cool, I put my mouth to the mike and I'm like Check.

Oh yeah, I am a fucking pro.

They are miking my guitar, I am sitting in a chair and people are moving and doing things all around me.

I start playing the riff of one of my songs. I am listening to the chatter. I am comforted by my playing.

I am laughing and cracking jokes trying not to let the nervousness overwhelm me.

Miles has his jembae, this big bongo drum or whatever. He has played it once. He is wearing funny pants, and it is about one in the morning and he has class in the morning. He is facing away from the people, so his drum hole (hahahahhaha) is aimed at them. He is not the focus of this. He is getting away scot free.

I am the musical leader of this band, so they are following my lead. I know nothing about playing live. I know absolutely nothing about anything. I know some facts, maybe. Whatever.

I start playing a song. There are several moments where it is after fucking around, before singing, and we are officially playing a song live for the first time after two practice sessions. Here we go.

My intestines start flushing. My schizophrenia pops up. I realize for one brief moment that I could go completely schizophrenic and ruin this all and we will never be a band.

I get this under control.

I start singing. I am weak sounding. I can barely hear my guitar. This first song apparently turns out to be our best one, later on.

They say play more.

I play another song. We were supposed to play one.

I figure out how to sing into the mike and I start singing with a purpose.

Finish second song. They say play more.

I play a third song. I don't have many. I wrote all these in the span of twenty minutes altogether so we'd have something to jam to, and I could practice my singing.

We finish. I am done.

We step off stage.

Here is what happened:

People complimented me on my music.

Also, there was a guy there who just happened to used to be an independent label music producer for six years, and still had contacts with a radio station in Austin Texas, and other music contacts.

He is telling me that we were really fucking good. He would consider us easily in the top tier of independent bands that he has come across. That we are everything important. That our sound was the most interesting sound he has ever heard out of cookeville, and trust me that that means a lot he says. That our first song he could easily get played on the radio. We could play at SXSW.

Crazy shit. I wanted to call the band Strange Days, but that was apparently already taken.

My secret is out. The revolution proceeds forward. You knew about it first.

Oh yeah, if me and Lars ever get around to it, we are going to make a banner and hang it on campus.

The banner will say "Attention! This is a banner."

Another part of the revolution of the mind.

Stay with me.

The Used and Frail

2008-01-30T04:26:00.000-08:00

What adventures. What charisma, what awesomeness. What a joy is found.

Hello you, it is me. Hi.

I am back, if only for a little bit, to tell you special things.

I am secret in my love for you, just whispering when you least expect it. It is beautiful.

I will begin my story, or something.

Hahaha, I don't know where to begin.

Well, let's start with this. I'm off the klonopins, that nasty nasty drug. It can cause addictions, it is just a shitty drug. I'm on gabapentin. It is for neuropathic pain. It increases Gaba.

It has healed something inside me.

Return of the Mack

2008-01-30T04:24:00.000-08:00

Oh my god I'm back baby.

and the days

2008-01-12T15:51:00.000-08:00

I am not like this all the time. I am just often scared to be like this, because it is unexpected when it happens.

Masterful Domains

2008-01-12T15:35:00.000-08:00

School is starting Monday. I am excited.

Let me explain to you a bit of what it is like to be schizophrenic.

Imagine having a near death experience. Maybe you have had one. Imagine the thoughts going through your head, the fear, the everything.

This is what it is like for me on schizophrenia. Inconsequential things become indicators of my demise. My heart is beating. I feel like I am right on the edge. Throw in some mystical crap, some mental everyone is connected and knows what is going on in your life and they are just players and there you have it. It is fucking scary. It is scary to live like this daily.

Ahh well. It is the lot for my life.

I will tell you more later, I wanted to make this quick.

A rage head of goodbyes.

2008-01-02T16:02:00.001-08:00

I feel like I owe you something.

Let me take a klonopin, and talk to you.

I am back. I am sitting here, on my stolen mattress. I have a styrofoam cup of Dr. Pop in my hand, with ice, though the soda is cold. I am liking the ice, lately. Later, when I find the cup, the ice has melted, and leaves water. I am pleased by this, and I dump the water out. I take use of things, and then I leave them behind, to find them later, and see how they/ve changed.

They are not really klonopins. They are generics. I am chewing off-brand nicorette gum. My life is full of cheap knock off's. I am ready to talk to you, I have everything set.

I do not know what to give to you, my reader. Everyone is so vastly different, though there are things that unite us. I could appeal to that, to those uniting factors, but then I would be the same as everyone.

I will choose a different tactic. A harder one. I will be myself, though it pains me. It shouldn't pain me to be myself. I do not know why I am telling you this. You deserve something.

I said today that the only problem with stupid people is that you have to listen to them. This is true, and I shouldn't say these things. The only ever problem you ever had with a stupid person was that you had to listen to them speak.

No, this is the case most of the time. You can avoid them. People, I have found, have found ways of avoiding people that cause them discomfort.

Some people go right for it. The discomfort. Maybe there is a high, there, somewhere.

I am from a poverty background. I believe people live for their different highs. I do not know how to feel about this. I do not know if you feel the same.

The top two things that a woman looks for in a partner is honesty, and a sense of humor.

Hahaha, everybody does and has that. Well, a lot of people. They want the right honesty, and the right sense of humor.

I have developed a bad sense of humor, and I laugh too much. Girls think this is just fine. Girls are silly.

I am slowly starting to not view myself as a smoker anymore. Or, conversely, if you like the big words, I am starting to view myself as a non-smoker again. Whatever.

I will enjoy the occasional cigarette and probably cough and hate it.

I made really, really good grades this semester. This is something to be proud of. Though I am a schizophrenic, I really show a lot of promise and potential.

All good things.

All my friends have been calling me over the break. I am touched. They like me.

This is good, because I want to be myself, and I am a person who likes to be liked. Heehehe. I am sorry if this offends you. This desire of mine, of liking to be liked.

Will I change to be liked? Ho ho, that is the question. Many will debate this.

We always change, to be liked. Sometimes.

See, I said always, and sometimes. You must hate me.

This is the part where I would add a really good quote about something. Like, despair is just a stone's throw away from a fucking rainbow, or something. That would be some awesome shit. You would tell all your friends. Laugh for me, and my dream.

It will not be me to say this, but everything has already been written and produced. But new things keep popping up everyday. It is always quite possible. It is always a new rearrangement, every day.

It would be really cool if I lived your life for a day. You might not think so, but I bet I would find tons of neat shit about it. It is always good, this new perspective.

The revolution is a new perspective.

I wish I could have a cigarette, and write to you. That would be so chic. I am so anti-chic. I like chic people. I secretly envy them. They have a gift of life.

Another set of sorrys

2008-01-02T13:17:00.000-08:00

A lot has been going on in my life. I should probably tell you about it. It is sensitive. I am scared to open my heart to you strangers. I expect your attention, yet I cannot let you in. Yet.

That singer Sarah McClachlan or whatever has been letting people know that for sixty cents a day, you can help save orphaned puppies or whatever.

I like how we now have a choice of whether or not we're going to sponsor a third world kid, or an american dog. For the price of a cup of coffee, you can sponsor this abandoned puppy. Or this child. The choice is yours.

I, like most americans, will be buying that fucking ridiculously cheap cup of coffee, where do you get that at.

And she spoke of Divine Intervention

2007-12-26T19:36:00.000-08:00

At least, that's the way it's always been in my life.

It is uncanny.

Unkmown to Science

2007-12-26T19:35:00.000-08:00

The right people are around when you need them.

The Holy Ghost and the Iron Sword

2007-12-26T17:49:00.000-08:00

Hahah, that last post waa funny.

You know what's interesting? I went to the hospital for this infection I have and the doctor listened to my lungs and said they sounded terrible. I could feel the wheezing in them. She said "You're 25, you really need to quit smoking."

I went home and did.

She will never know this.

Merry Christmas

2007-12-26T09:43:00.000-08:00

Quitting smoking fucking sucks. Not having that first cigarette in the morning with my first cup of coffee blows. I am in a pissed off mood so probably won't be posting to my blog much because it is supposed to be all flowers and sunshine and shit. Fuck sunshine, give me a tanning bed and a lightbulb. Fucking Edison, spitting in the face of God.

She found joy and sorrow and lived for nothing else

2007-12-24T16:54:00.001-08:00

Oh yeah, I am quitting smoking. Wish me luck.

Getting up and going

2007-12-24T16:23:00.000-08:00

Dad didn't mean to get me a lame gift. Just what they sent was not what was represented in the catalog.

The klonopin is helping me out tremendously. I feel like my old self again, pre schizophrenia. It' weird.

It's why I haven't been writing much, I've been busy cleaning up my apartment and talking to some friends online. Everyone is saying how I'm back to my old self again, it is pretty cool.

I will tell you more of my past. What should I tell you. I don't want to tell you about the women yet. Maybe I will tell you about the leg.

When I was in first grade I was tipping back in my chair and falling out of it to make this one kid, Patrick, laugh. I kept doing it over and over, until I fell 0n my left leg and started crying. It hurt. Bad. I couldn't get up. They called my father and brought a wheelchair. I couldn't get off the floor, it was right by my hip that it hurt, this is a weight bearing area. My dad picked me up and carried me to the ambulance.

I was in the hospital for several months and finished out school there. My leg was in tracton, which means it was kept elevated by a metal pole through my knee. The doctors said I had a weak spot on my femur that was bound to break at some point.

When I got out of traction they put me in a half body cast and sent me home. I was a hyperactive kid, so I developed this duck waddle way of walking with this half body cast on. No wheel chair for me.

The body cast kept my legs spread at a 45 degree angle, and there was a steel bar between the legs above my knees for strength. The cast went all the way down my left leg, and down to the knee of my right. So I could bend my right knee and swing my left leg over. I walked like this for several months.

After awhile they cut the cast off. Doctor tells me "Okay now you won't be able to stand for a few weeks, and you shouldn't walk for awhile." I told him I'd already been walking in the cast. "Oh, if I had known that, I would have put rubber bottoms on it." or something like this.

Anyway we get home and my dad's like "Do you think you can stand on it?" I said yeah, probably. I stood on it. Fine. I started walking. Fine. We walked home.

What the doctors failed to realize was that I had monostotic fibrous displaysia, a tumor growing in my femur that made the bone very brittle and easily breakable. It's usually caught in that exact scenario, a kid breaks a bone from the tumor, they spot the tumor and remove it. This doctor didn't remove the tumor. It would grow back. It wouldn't be discovered until I was 18. It is the reason that I am schizophrenic.

I will tell you more later.

Sentry guards were everywhere.

2007-12-21T16:57:00.000-08:00

Dad is making up for truly lame christmas gift by getting me the pins I need for my acoustic. He's also throwing in my favorite strings and picks. Score.

Fifty shots, he ducked to the floor.

2007-12-21T16:05:00.000-08:00

I'm on clonzepam now. It works well, it has slowed my thinking down and made me feel more normal.

I am agitated right now because I had to smash the window open on my truck to get my keys. Oh well.

There's a cat that comes around loving on me and shit and wanting my attention. I fed it today. Give it a name.

Humming through the clouds, a brilliant life is formed.

2007-12-19T11:33:00.000-08:00

I tried to explain to my friend Heather that there is something past the opposites. Something past the good and evil, the yin and yang, the dominant and the subservient.

"What is past that?" She asks me.

"I don't know. I just know it's there."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

I am teaching it to myself, and I am teaching it to you.

...

At least this is something different.

Pushing the envelope got you just that

2007-12-19T11:26:00.000-08:00

There are two people who want to make music with me. A violinist and a drummer.

The drummer is my good friend Miles. We jam on the same groove.

The violinist played with us once. She has much more jamming experience. I've only jammed a handful of times, mostly with miles. 5 times, I think I've jammed, three times with Miles. This experienced person likes it.

That is good directions to go. I think I told you this.

When you are schizophrenic, you believe you are a terrible person, and that you are inherently evil. You tend to act out these things, believing that is who you are.

One of the girls I linked to is going through this. She has said that 90% of her life is drugs. Wow.

I wonder how many people in the world feel unsuccessful. Certainly they are the majority.

Perhaps they had a taste, and couldn't cut it. They were outlasted by their betters.

It stands to reason. There are going to be superior human beings born. This is powerful. We are built to know our place in the world.

It's like a great big number system, with you at the bottom.

No no, this is terrible, it is just sometimes you feel this way.

This has no meaning, and that's the point.

2007-12-19T11:19:00.000-08:00

There are actually people who say that life has no meaning.

I suppose the argument against that is you make your own meaning.

The existentionalist will say "Well, you are wrong."

This is how I feel about religion. I believe it is made by man, and it is a wonderful thing. Hell, I should join it and you should to, but you know what? We'd be wrong. Who cares?

A friend of mine, Justin, said if you dedicate your life to being correct that would just be horrible.

Powerful words.

Today is the day I tell you things. There are about ten of you so far, on average, per day, that take time to read what I have to say.

That is a little nestle of perfect in your life. That means you are interested and enjoying, and I am just mad.

Heh, maybe you are not interested. Maybe it is just something different.

Maybe that is the part of life we are at right now.

Math is at the heart of the Universe

2007-12-18T16:45:00.000-08:00

I KNOW WHAT THIS BLOG NEEDS TO MAKE IT COMPLETE SOME BAD POETRY AND/OR SONGS. PERFECT.

I will pick out a song I wrote before (well going into) my schizophrenia and I will post it up. Yes, it really is one of those things where you are reading some dude's blog, and he puts up lyrics to one of his "songs". This is actually happening, hold on.

I am listening to it now, the guitaring is excellent. My voice is crappy, but as about as good as I could get it. The song meaning is obvious.

There was more to life
Then we ever knew
Now I see why
We could never get through

One time in my life I had thought that we could change
You said in broken numbers, hearts are gone, that you had ran away
And now I wonder if I ever fought back distressing true
In all these faces I've seen everyone but still it isn't you.

It isn't you.

And all your tears are gone
And I was never here
They love you now
You've got nothing to fear.

One time in my life I had thought that I had ran away
It turns out time goes onward, do or don't, oh it will never change
And we can sit here mournful spilling sobs of broken promise true
My child time goes onward, there is nothing you or I can do

I can do
I can do

Music change

And these two hearts did linger
In the dead of winter I was experimenting between song progressions

Music stylings for a little bit as everybody realizes the girl and boy broke up and it was sad

Now I remember every single word you ever said
This faded light and this long drive are all stuck in my head
And I remember turning and walking right out that door
And I still can't remember what all of this was for

And this isn't
How I should feel
But I didn't anyway

Everything sounds so vague when I say these twisted lies
I know what I said, know how I felt, I read between the lines
No rhyme or reason I'll sing it backwards for you today
Was each one the same or was it I who turned the other way

And I said
That I should care
But I didn't anyway

Let's take a walk between this broken glass and icy tress
They say a wise man walks across these grounds upon his knees
Was that a saint, a fool in love, oh wise can never feel
There's only scars from things and thoughts, it takes a strong man to kneel

Well I never
Gave in yeah
So I guess I've fallen anyway

So that's it, this is officially a real blog now. I wrote that shit when I was about nineteen. I kept writing all this esoteric shit, so I tried to write something normal but still had my own twist on it. It's not that bad, really. The music behind it was pretty good, it needed a better singer than I. It is your average 19 year old break up song. Pretty sweet.

The songs I write now will be totally different. I have no idea what I'll write about now. Maybe I will write about stars and sunshine. I certainly do not want to write about chaos and despair. Maybe just a little bit. Maybe I will do mostly stars and sunshine with a little chaos and despair. I will probably sound like everyone else, so I will keep it so nice and easy. I really don't have a message.

Shh, don't tell my other readers that I said that. Having no message is part of the revolution.

The sundry little things.

2007-12-18T16:29:00.000-08:00

So mybloglog shows me individual readers, and is immune to the attacking internet robots, unlike my counter. I think I am going to leave the counter up, so that you can see the casualties of battle. What does it mean? I have to learn what the attacking internet robots motivations are. Only then could I truly defeat them, or use them to my advantage.

We had 23 unique readers yesterday.

I wonder what they thought about my revolution.

I wonder how crazy they believe I am.

After careful consideration, I am not that crazy. However I am still dealing with issues that resulted from the last two years, and trying to recover. So it is a journey.

Life goes on, and on and on, no matter what is going on with you. I try to get maximum satisfaction out of it, while still dealing with a number of issues. I suppose this is the same of everyone. My friend miles, who is really interesting on the drums, we jam well together, hooked up with this girl who plays a fiddle and violin and likes our stuff.

Really for truly. Me, who went crazy and didn't play guitar for three years, and barely remembers how to play now, was able to hold a rocking jam session together. I talked to the girl today, and her and I will get together, and I will play her acoustic. All I have right now is an electric that's missing a string that I fucking hate. My acoustic, the one I make good music on, is out of commission. I have to order pins and strings for it, maybe I could ask my dad to do that for me.

I have until January 3rd to get my guitar chops together to hopefully write some songs, miles won't be there so I won't have that beat. But I think it will be okay.

Good night, good night

2007-12-17T19:57:00.000-08:00

That is all I will speak about the revolution. It will be a secret again.

We'll float on good news is on the way

2007-12-17T18:51:00.001-08:00

When I was a kid I realized I was different. I held on to that.

I have entered a No Man's land. That is what it is like, to be born, and to live on this earth, there are no rules. But you are told rules all your life. It is a No Man's land.

And you come to know yourself.

And other people. Which are all good things.

But for a revolution, it is a No Man's land.

Ignore me, and my fancies of revolution. I am just a (young) old man, okay, and I have needs.