What Goes Up

What happened?
Who knows...
Who will ever know, actually

It's like you start off
Winning
And you cant go anywhere
But up

Yet what goes up
Comes down
And down hard

So you dont know what to expect per say
But you have this discomforting feeling
That whatever will happen
Is inevitable
Yet you try to keep it from happening
Nonetheless...

And thats when you lose it all
And hit the floor
Without a warning

Because you once believed
That you had nowhere to go
But up

Yet what goes up
Comes down
And down hard...

The Works Of A Curse

I'm not sure why
Things work the way they do
With no warning
So sudden
Mercilessly

It is almost as if
The universe taunts us
Exclaiming our weakness
Of being nailed to the present
With only a slight, unsure glimpse
Of what may come to be

And our past?
It doesnt necessarily predict our future
And our future
Is not a reflection of the present
They are intertwined
Yet so distant

And the works of such curse
Revealed itself to me this week
And I ponder the reason why
It had to choose me

Then I realize
That I chose it

Fear...

We all have the fear of not being good enough
And that goes for all concepts
Not being good enough of a student
Or a son
Or maybe an artist
Or an engineer...

And yes, I've allowed those troubling thoughts
To storm my head
And they take control of every hour
Every minute of my every day
And week in week out
Month in month out
They linger about

Me?
I have the fear of being a "good for nothing" man
In the future that is...

Because for what I want to be
There is no "halfway good"
Or
"Good enough"
Because when money doesnt speak for you
Only your connection has a voice
And that connection is an evasive one
It runs from me at times...
And I'm left with nothing
But the nightmares
And the nerve-wrecking thoughts

I have the fear of failing
Failing my parents
Failing myself
Because I failed to comply with reality
And her with me...

Because I could work my way up
And become a company man
And sit behind a desk to earn a pay that'll send my kids to college
And be able to buy my wife the dress she had always wanted
Even take the family for a vacation

But I dont
Because I've failed that, too...

Because my mind
Is programed
Is built
Is crafted to follow sound
To follow sight
To ring true
And that is a poison
Which doesnt kill you...
No...
It tortures you
And when you beg to leave
It grants you no mercy....


I fear of being alone
Which at times,
I believe I am
Because the world has no brakes, you see...
It wont stop for you for your sightseeing
It wont call for you once time calls

I fear of being afraid
Of being me
And I'm afraid that fear will keep me
From being me...

Sometimes Giving Up Is A Victory...

At least once
You have to ask yourself some questions
And you know you dont want the answers
But it is for the best of you
Yet for the worst of your sanity

I want to be someone
To be great at something and to be recognized for it
I want to be a leader
With strong morals and qualities
Yet what risks will I have to take?

I guess that at certain times
I stop myself in my tracks
And I look at one of her pictures
At that moment, I worry

What if chasing my dream yanks and smights her own?
What if deciding to not act my age ends up taking her away?

So Ive decided that whoever that big person I want to be
Will be for her
Because when youre in love
The audience seizes to exist
And its just you and her
The way the show ends
Is entirely up to you...

A Rather Silly Thought

Reality aside
Its hard to conceive rather Im playing myself for a fool
Or if I am right on all accounts

Because Iet my mind loose during the night
And it scouts the same area
The same lingering thought
That one that deprives me of my sleep
And makes my breaths longer

Am I doing the right thing?
Are the sacrifices worth their punishment?
Or am I chasing shadows
Riddled by the false illusion of choice
That someday
Somehow
If she's gone mad enough
She'll spot within me the joy she searches for

But by then
Theres nothing left to do
But to worry...

Harsh Reality

I remember the time
She stormed into my life
And I thought it would be over soon
We both know it wasnt

I remember how we talked
For hours on end
And I thought we'd break off soon
We both know we didnt

I remember telling her Id wait
And Id be the first thing
She could count on
We both knew I was

So what happened
What broke the ties
Set fire to our moments?

We both know it was me
Wasnt it...

May I Have Your Attention

Listen closely
Fade out any static
Any rumble
And filter into the sound
Yes, the one that mindfully and discretely
Whispers your name

Give it some thought
Or
Are you out of thoughts to give?

How about dreaming of it?
Or
Has fiction lost its finesse?

Maybe
Try to wish for it?
Or have you had your third?

Dont play yourself under the hands of the joker
Dont let him use you as a pawn
Or
Place you within a threshold of your thoughts
Compressing them
Ridding them if their vibrant meanings

Because true rebellion
Is done with a straightface
And no tricks up your sleeve...

Death

He walks
And walks...
Through the deepest woods
The same he used to wander in
When he was a child with no fear in his mind
No worry in his life
And nothing has changed
The trees...
They rustle to the same song
The wind...
It humms its melodies
The river...
It speaks with the same tone

Yet he catches a glimpse of a beautiful woman
And light curves in her nature
And her smile lights up the deepest darkest woods
She stares art him
And lets out a faint giggle, and runs away

He starts running after her
Love drunk
He must check her reality
As if he doubted what he saw
So he runs

He spots her figure entering the city
And he runs after her
The light shining from her beauty
The scent of her hair greeting his senses
He runs...

She lures him to the dark corridors of the city
Infested with sinners and hunters
Yet her smile is seen
Her eyes pose the mystery
He runs....

Yet when he reaches her
And speaks so that she will turn
Her face is dismantled
Her light is no more
Her smile is rotten

And in his deterioating hope
To find her beauty
He is struck by death
And falls cold to the floor
With nothing but the absence of life
Greeting
Kissing his face goodbye

And then he knew

What is death
But the disloyal beauty that lures you
Then takes you?

Slip

We all slip...
One way or another
We lose our balance
Be it a loss to a small
Benign principle
Or a major disconnection

I slip right down the hallways
Every week it seems...
But the truth is that the more times I slip
The firmer my feet stick to the ground
And yet it doesnt prevent my next fall
But it makes less harsh

I slip in school
Grades...
I slip with my parents
My friends
I slip with my slipping
And it slips back on me

But the truth I dont ever want to face is that
I'm not slipping...
I'm slipped...

The Life Of He Who Worked

His hands are stained
From the work
From building the house
Wood by wood
Nail by nail

His face is a map
Of all the routes and streets
He roamed to give her the best
And only the best
Because she deserved no less

His eyes are blinded
And the deep blue is now nothing
But a pale marble
Yet her beauty still
Reflects on it

His tongue is dull
From all the times he had sharpened it
To speak to her and surprise her
With the words he knew
And the rhymes he made

His soul
His tiresome and lonesome soul
Yearns for her love
Because it knows
However wishes not to know
That her departure weakened him
It tore his existence

His life is meaningless
Because she was the only one
To ever bring it a purpose
But with her leaving the door
Out with her went his meaning

But he lives
And long live
His life

The life of a man
Who has worked
And worked
And worked...

Life

Sometimes,

I open my eyes to a different reality
And I notice that I'm so far behind on the expectations
From my family and friends
That I start to feel the immense pressure that tries to rid me of my dreams...

Every once in a while, my parents and I talk about the future
My future
And how I'm suppose to handle my life
And my financial state
And so forth...

So I reassure them
I endulge them by telling them how I'm going to college
To major in something professional and academic
Get myself a job and wife and work my way to my grave

But I fool myself into that reality
Because the world I live in
I'm on a stage
And I'm playing my songs and people are actually enjoying it
Theres a connection
But I come home to an empty home
Theres no wife
There are no kids
No messages on my phone

Its a solitary eutopia

Because I've let people cram that into my head
That musicians are good for nothing
That they die young and wifeless
That they bite the bait too quickly

And yeah...
It might be true

But passion is a greater kingdom than reality will ever be...
And I intend on keeping it that way
Even if I wont ever have a love that sleeps beside me
Or be able to take the kids to their soccer game on weekends

But hey

Life is an unexpected guest
You just never know what it might do to you

These Dreams

I have so many dreams
That sometimes I dont know which one will be realized
So I sit here and wait until one of them
Peaks up
Waves
Signals life
So I can work towards it

But I dont believe I'd be happy with only one dream working
While the rest wither and die off
Because the plan of my life
Is for all these dreams to materialize
But it scratches at my soul to be here
Anxiously awaiting their covertion
And to no avail...

I Wish

I wish there was a way to manipulate the outcome
To set right the wrong parts
And to tinker with the results
To make them to your liking

I wish there was a way to predict the future
But not in some black magic ritual
To know in advance that what you're about to say
Wont do you any good
And she'll just distance herself
Further
And further
And further...

I wish there was more to me than she would see
That I wouldnt be a blank page or
A book with a lousy plot

I wish that she wished the same as me
Because then how simple it would be
No more worry
No more nerve-wrecking worry
No more assumptions
No more doubts
No more "no more"

I wish that I would stop wishing so much
And get down to the doing...

What Happens?

What happens when you run out of things to write

When it consumed you in full

Spit out reason and logic 

And kept in foolishness 

And you stare at the blank page

With nothing but a blank, solitary breeze that goes through your mind

What happens when doubt reveals itself?

Do you get up and sober up

From being so love drunk?

Or do you put on a brave face

And work against the odds?

What becomes of you when you've lost your senses?

How sleep is such a stranger

How strangers no longer become strange...

Because you know the blame lies within you

And only you

But you choose to forgive youself

And remind yourself its worth the risk

What happens if it isnt?

What happens then? ... 

The Journey

I dont comprehend love...
It is such an evasive and complicated concept
That it brings you the best of dreams
Yet when you wake
Where have those dreams gone to?

I wish there was a way to tell
If what I work for is worth the risks
The time and the effort
The let downs and the concerns
But I guess the best part of this
Is that you cant

You're placed in the deep dark woods
No flashlight
No compass
No wind to guide you
No river to lend you perspective
Yet something tells you where to go
How to feel
What to listen for

And somehow
Sometime
You find the way out
And you're safe and sound
But that journey was frightening
And it stripped you of your sanity
Your sleep
But in the end it was worth it
Because you've never seen such beauty
In a sunrise
Or such splendor in that song
That the wind hums to you

And I guess that is love
Not the lack of knowledge before
Or the beauty after
But the entire journey...

Time

Have you noticed the sparkle
In her eyes?
The tone of her voice
Or her name in the skies?

Do you come back home
And await her embrace?
The stories she'll tell
Or that smudge on her face?

Did you give her
All you could?
Forget the money, the time
As you promised you would?

Well, I'm sorry to say
That time has run out
And she's moved to land
While you're lurking about

But be brave and confident
So that your love can dwell
Only then will you see those eyes
Taste her taste, smell her smell

Have you chosen to cherish
Her every laugh?
Give up that dream
Or maybe at least half?

If you've done so
Its a safe bet to say
That her love for you
Comes in an honest way

Make sure you wake up some day
Look into her eyes
Fall in love with that voice
And write her name on the skies

Because time takes and takes
And you know
You cant hide

You Do The Same...

It calls to you
By your name
Gently holds on to your shoulder
And you do the same

You two walk around
Be it in the rain or snow
And the truth is that time goes by
But you dont want to show

That those wrinkles are acting up
As slow as it might seem
But surely she'll start to notice
Who she'd want you to be

And you lie to yourself
And promise that you'll change
But what difference does it make
When you're one and the same

And she starts to drift
In the thin skin of space
And you're left in wonder
And fall back on your race

But fear not the mysteries she imposes
Because her very composition is of such
And in due time you'll find out
You wont have to worry as much

Because true love finds you
In the depth of your seeking
And when you least expect
It becomes the air you've been breathing

And now her eyes reflect the love
And the beast you deflect is tamed
She smiles at you
And you do the same...

The Sailor

The sailor rows his boat
Across the vicious ocean
Up and above the massive waves
That try to engulf his fragile existence
Down and below the pouring rain
That tries to wipe out his signature

Yet the power lies within his mind
As every night he dreams the same dream
That he reaches land
The firm, exotic shore
And he graces its presence by grasping the sand
With his work-stained hands
Letting it fall loosely back to earth
As the wind riddles it and tenderly calms his anxious soul
As if to say "welcome home"

However... a simple pinch knocks him back to reality
And he awakens to find himself back in his small boat
Struggling against the waves
Struggling against the rain
And he falls back into his existence
Wondering if all people dream that same dream
Because it seems to be the only one that he knows
And that comes and visits him
Lures him into an utopian realm
Then when he is inches away from tasting paradise
It tears itself
And throws him back
Way back
To himself

And he carries on
Hoping someday that dream will manifest itself
It will drop down from the heavens
And let die its silly ways and trickery
But 'till that day comes
The sailor rows his boat ...

It Brings You Comfort...

It brings you some comfort
In the long run..
Yet, someday you wake up
You lift that heavy soul off your bed
And you prop yourself under the pressure
Realizing...
That the little comfort it awards you
Is derived of all that tension
All those expectations you force yourself to meet

She has high standards
And even higher dreams
And I lack the strength
The wisdom
My tongue is dull
As opposed to all those who have sharpened theirs
She speaks
And the words that loosely bid her farewell
Wear the alluring veil of wisdom
And experience

In no moment in my time
Will I match her expectations
Her needs
Her desires
Because I am naturally built as the leg of a chair
Or the nail on the wall which holds the masterpiece
And my sole purpose conflicts with my wish
Of someday having her
But not her body
Not her eyes
Not only those
But have her love
And passion


Yet the pressure I feel
The tension that rips open the stress
Disables my growth
And my will
And throws back into the deafining realm of uncertainty
Where you may think you know you have a chance
But seconds later you contradict yourself...

But you know one thing
And one thing only

And that is

It brings you comfort
In the long run...

Equilibrium

Light

For seconds
It clears my view
It outlines the details
It purifies the reasons
Identifies the essence

Slowly yet surely spreads
Throughout the room
And later the corridor
That leads to my mind
And soul
To vanquish the remnants of
The bad memories
The hurt
It scars it
Yet heals them completely

But where there is light
Darkness lurks not too far behind
And it tricks me into thinking
I need it
I wish it
How I lust for it

And it takes me by the hand
And steadily eases me away from light
And into the darkness

It caves in
Removes all that splendor
From the rooms
The corridor
That leads to my mind
And soul
And restores the vanquished memories
And hurt
Rips open those scars

Yet...

Where there is darkness
Light lurks not too far behind...

Not again...

This is something else...

Out of all the times I had fallen into it

And no matter how deeply and whoever by

None can compare to this

And my reaction towards it is... not immediate

I told myself that distance is a destroyer of relationships

And in essence, it really is 

Because in due time, the love drifts away

The interest because vague and dismantled

And it's only a matter of patience 

Until one of the lovers decides that life is better off

Without them in it

However, I guess you come upon a time where

Distance is irrelevant

And time is just a factor

And you find yourself in this tightly enclosed room

That is bursting 

And the pressure is so great that you can't contain it

That distance and time wont fit into that space

Damn it

I think I'm in love...

Its Happening Again

It's happening again.

I'm laying in bed waiting for her 

And its late at night

Early in the morning

Past midday

I'm here

Waiting

And I dont mind

Because honestly what part of this wait is there to mind?

I'm waiting on a good cause

A few minutes with her

or

A few seconds 

Doesnt matter

It never does

I've figured out that somethings in life go by with certainty

But you're in charge of how fast they slip 

You're the master of your own moments

And so I choose to make those seconds 

Last an eternity

So it brings me eternal happiness whilst it lasts

And that comforts me

And the laughs we share

And the glances we let slide

They are all indicators

Proof

Evidence

That the moments I share with you

Are meant to be the way they are

And no tinkering

No editing

Nothing should change them

Because they are perfect

Besides all the imperfections they impose

Its happening again

...

I'm letting it happen again.

Silence...

Silence...
Not even the tick of the clock
Rips the fragile fabric
Because it is placed under the threshold
Of that collapsing wall of sonic immobility

However it doesnt surround me
And distorts and molds into my ambience
Yet does not infiltrate my nature
Even the chaos of the city is surpressed
And all of a sudden the world is crumbled
Silence...

Things Change

Things change.
As much as we dont want them to...

We are all victims of this process.
You think you will wake up the next morning and feel the same?
Act the same?
Think the same?
Speak the same?
Wish the same?
Be the same?

... Think again

Because change is part of life that when unexistent we are not living.

Love flows and goes as it came
Pride rules until it is tamed

It hurts to say it

But things just

Change

Heart Break?

Broken hearts...

I hate that expression
But not because it's too cliché or because it just naturally tends to sound cheesy
But because it is an understatement

We've all had love in our lives
Be it true love or a temporary attraction, it has always been there
In that sense, we all know what it is like when that love fades
It vanishes
Dies out

And as it came so unexpectedly through the thin and sharp space between your door
It flies on back out, and the wind swiftly but surely carries it away

And you're left feeling hopeless
You fall back to square one
And theres not much you can do but to take it
Hit after hit
After hit
After hit


And honestly, my heart breaks made me better
Yes they did do more than just break a heart
They confused me
They rotted my senses
They cursed my nights with insomnia
They rules the empire of my dreams
They sucked away the colors
They dimmed the light

But where would I be?
Where would we be if love was so perfect?

Because the concept of love evades us
From our condition
From our way of life
Because we dwell infinitely in the images of true love cast upon us by the movies, or the books, or the music
Never once have we stopped in our tracks
Looked at ourselves and thought
"True love isnt true until it suffers the truth"

And true love is never true unless you feel that heart break...

... heart break ...
God I still hate that expression...

Here I Go Again...

While recording the setlist for the album "We Might As Well..." I noticed that nothing ends a great rock n roll album than a acoustic/voice, one on one, love song.
So I let myself think of her one last time and came out with this:

HERE I GO AGAIN

Here we go again...

Right when I thought I’d reached the end

Your voice lingered in my head

And your scent near my bed

Then your laugh came about

Then that song we’d sing aloud

How I bought you that new dress

And you shined in a room so colorless

Can’t you see, can’t you see

That the world is built on fantasies

And once you were my queen

And once you were my queen

Yet I believe, I believe

That these colors that I see

Will lead me back to you

Yes I believe they do…

There she goes again…

She’s found her light in another man

And I cant help but to lie

When I say she’s done her time

I remember her flowing hair

And the clothes that she use to wear

Is it too much to explain

Why I never switched my lane

Can’t you see, can’t you see

That the world is built on fantasies

And once you were my queen

And once you were my queen

Yet I believe, I believe

That these colors that I see

Will lead me back to you

Yes I believe they do…

I leave the front door open

I leave my front door open
For her
For her essence
So that she can walk any time she wants
As many times as she wants
Whenever
Forever

However, I leave my front door open
And with that action comes the consequences
And some come in and take away
And some come in and take away more
As many time as they want
Whenever
Forever

But I leave the front door open for her
I'll always leave the front door open
For her

1:21am

1:21am

My eyes are starting to give up and shut

But with any strength I have left

I keep them open

Starring at this screen

Waiting

Hoping 

Wishing she'd show up

But who am I kidding?

If I remember correctly

It all started with the simplest detail

Her voice

It wasnt the type that would

pierce the silence

or be the first recognizable in the room

But it was unique 

In such a way that it captivated my attention

Bit by bit 

Until I bit the bait 

That's what it took

One second of listening to that voice

Filled with mystery

with splendor

with such light and shade 

bundled into one solid note

that sounded cleanly across the halls

But I was no one to believe I even had a chance

She needed a man

With set needs and morals

With predominant characteristics

Me?

I had long hair

Sunglasses

Didnt act my age

Didnt want to anyway

But what I did there

In the very moment I deleted the chances from my head

I wrongfully directed myself

Because now I learned she felt the same for me

Or at least a fraction of it 

But who's counting

And I'm riddled with regret

And such feeling is what keeps me up at night

Hoping she'll be there so I can ask her how her day was

How she slept

So she can talk to me about her issues

Her happiness

Her memories

So she can laugh

So I can laugh along with her

But will she show up?

I'll never know

Its 1:27am

I'm still here...

Love

Is there such a thing as "too much" love?
I wonder...
Because I manage to fall in love two or three times a week
Sometimes the same girl
Sometimes different ones
But I guess the real issue is that I fall in love too easily
Why?
Who knows...

Not sure if it is because of past relationships
Or the lack of them
Maybe how I love company
Or because I love being in love
Even if it is hopeless

I guess it gives me strength to do certain things
And do them better than before
Because it throws to me this powerful concept
That if I succeed in my actions
I'll succeed in that love
Doesnt work that way...

I've fallen for girls I dont even know
For girls I wont ever know
For girls that are here now
For girls that never roamed the earth

I guess the secret to it all is
Fall as hard as you can
But make sure the depth is not so substantial
So that you may manage to crawl back up
And out of love
Then fall back
In it

Concept of "We Might As Well..."

I'm in the makes of the album for my band, The Things (yes I know that name is somewhat awkward but bear with us...), named "We Might As Well..." and I just wanted to transpose the meaning behind the name and concept of this album.

Firstly, the concept of the entire band came from the root of "we should just give it a go". That line pretty much summed up our rehearsals, the song making process and the execution of the setlist. In the end, we arent doing this to impress people much, but rather to have something to risk.

So you could say that I built this band on an unstructured, unprocessed, unsure base. But that's what makes us unique. We like to go from a slow song to a full on power rock n roll riff. It's all about taking the risk because in the end we might as well go for it.

I worked on the album cover with a very dear friend of mine, Alexia Lund, and we came up with this background. (Note: this is not the finished product, this just outlines the background). I used the chaotic color and brush strokes on the left to indicate the normality of society. How people are born, they work, they die. The natural cycle of life. 

It indicates as well where the subject, in that case you could make me said subject, wants to be but wishes to refrain from that area. You can notice how the lights stray closer and closer to the midpoint of the picture, showing how they expand and try to reach the other side thus ripping off the darkness. 

The right side of the album shows faint lights in organized squares. Thats where the austronaut (pretty much the theme of the album) would be. He is just standing there in his own, organized world, fighting the fear within himself of being engulfed by the chaotic world that slowly caves in. 

Metaphorically, the album talks about the lack of support, of the "one man army", that many of us experience at least at one point in life. It shows how this band is in the dark, it is working on its own, it is a self-functioning machine. Because we are recording our album in my little studio placed in my room, I write the lyrics, the songs, the melodies, no help from any manager or producer. We teach ourselves the instruments, the stage presence, the dynamics, the show. 

And that's what really moves The Things onward, given all the opposing forces.

But we're still here and the album is going well

Expect to hear it no later than this month!

Despite the let downs...

Building your dream is the hardest task ever bestowed upon me...

And I know its a bit of a cliché to say that, but in the end of the day, it truly is. 

Specially when you're nearly on your own.

Parents can tell you they work for the best of you

Friends can tell you they've got your back

But sometimes you're getting ready for the rumble and you look over your shoulder and all of those are gone

There's nothing we can do about it but carry on. And keep trying

Keep messing up

Keep trying again

And keep messing up once more

It's all part of a scheme

I want to work with music.

Such a simple dream in essence, but one of the less probable things in life. 

People might think that being a musician means winning X-Factor and blowing up the next day.

That is 100% wrong. 

Musicians should struggle. They should suffer. They should have to get up at 8am everyday and work towards making a band work, or rehearse for 5 hours on a Sunday, knowing Monday all hell will break lose. 

Musicians should take the mocking, the complaining, the expectations, the let downs, the give ups. 

Musicians have to face risk, they have to endure pain and sacrifice. We have to face more troubles in a year than the regular person would face in a lifetime

Musicians are tough.

Besides despite all these critics, all the negativity, all the forces acting against them

They still pick up that guitar

or that microphone

or that bass or drumsticks

or whatever it is 

And they march out and play people their song

And they tell the story of their struggle and fights

And they enjoy what they do 

They wouldnt change that for the world

That's why I want to play music.

You wont find that honesty anywhere else...

Art

"What is art if not a mirror of life"

That hit me hard.
And she was right. Life is just an illustration of your emotions, of time, of you, of life. And that concept is what defines whats on the canvas. That thought is what gives music meaning.

But now I'll stand back, and I'll look up and analyze my life and how it mirrors the art I try to make.
And I begin to notice (and this is happening as I write this down) that there's this bundled sense of frustration and lack of time that repeats itself in many of my lyrics, of the melodies I come up with.

Take the song "Spaceman" I wrote a few months ago. The real meaning behind that song is not about some guy that is sitting on the moon watching the earthrise. It is, however, about the moment in which we all feel the helplesness, the lack of support, nature's pressure and weight crushing you down, pushing you to a point of complete desperation. And then you lock yourself out.

You fly into space.
Where theres nothing, yet everything
No sound, yet the most chaotic of symphonies
And that's where I've been for the past few months, in outer space
I'm just drifting there, watching the sun rise above the earth, sitting on the moon, waiting for the situation down there to resolve itself for a safe landing.

Or look at "Time". "Have we come to the point where we all have to run away, pack our things, kill our dreams, (...) make haste"

That song outlines my breaking point. The stress and fear of living where I do was so unconceivable that I could pack my things and leave to anywhere else but here.
It sort of robs you of your freedom, it sucks away the happiness. Because I know that I'm wasting my time worrying over this, but it is time well spent because it generates this energy that pushes me towards working harder to get out of here.

And this time was not wasted
Because surely you recall Lennon saying "time you enjoyed wasting, was not wasted".

How true that is
That the amoutn of time I have
Be it too much or too little
Doesnt mark what I've done so far in life
It just marks what I've yet to do

The Truth Is...

I have the tendency to create different characters when writing my songs...

Very few of the lyrics I write actually resemble a problem I'm facing, or my own reality. And that's not necessarily a bad thing, because it helps me imagine and be the "god" of my own head; I get to make up this old guy that's been living in the same old house. He's wifeless, everyone else moved away because the land isn't fertile anymore and the city is too far. It is just him and his home that he built with his two hands.
And that is a sort of beauty... at least to me.

It just takes me by the knees how music nowadays is too "overthought" and too "underwriten" at the same time. Switch on the radio, listen to those lyrics. They all paint a clear picture about parties, about boyfriends and breakups, about sex and drugs. There's no depth anymore. There's no expression.
But I wont stand my ground because judging someone else's music is just plain wrong.
*Even you Bieber... but you still suck.*

What I miss the most from the music made decades ago is not the blistering guitar solos or the mindblowing vocal ranges. I miss the simplicity to the music making process. The way you could go into a studio and sing your heart out about this woman that's just grinding up your gears. Or write a song telling the story of a man who's dug too deep and in the end he dug his own grave.

I miss the expression.

I miss the emotion.

I miss the fact that you could moan into a microphone and in some twisted way make that into art.
I miss being able to make mistakes on stage.
Because music isnt perfect.
Humans arent perfect.
It has to sound off a bit because that is the definition of rock n roll
That's how blues came about
By the hands and the hearts and the souls of the ones who werent perfect at the time
From the hearts and souls of the troubled ones
The ones that worked in fields
That were whipped unconscious
That needed a way out and choose music as an exit
How beautiful is that?
How music provided the most ridiculed people on earth a home of serenity and peace.
THAT is what music should be about

But instead sex and money has launched the beloved music industry straight into the arms of greed.
And now honest artists cannot make a living
They cant speak for themselves
They arent respected as artists, but as tokens
As objects
As trophies

But these artists
these musicians
they will have something no one will ever be able to grasp

They'll always have melody
They'll always have music
And music will always comfort them
As it comforts me...

And I'm Just Sitting Here...

The clock ticks away the time. Sun starts to bid farewell, clouds gather about, grasshoppers ready their song. Blank expression, starring  into the nothingness, the emptiness, the void. And I’m just sitting here. 

And for once, all I hear is silence. It is deafening, and slowly claims the lives of any sudden movement I try to make; I’m paralyzed. And I just sit here.

I can’t hear any music in my head. Silence has taken over that, too. Her image is somewhat distorted; I can see her face but cannot make out the details all together; I’m either thinking of her voice, or her eyes, but never both. And I just sit here…

I can’t come to a true conclusion as to why I’m doing this. Why I’m being overtaken by the silence, the immobility, the nothingness, the void. Why choices fade out, why bad times rule the kingdom, how the only way out is the path to another way out. It is a cycle. And I just sit here.

The sun has set, the grasshoppers carol their favorite song, the clouds watch as the city flickers on their golden lights and waits for the day to greet them back. I yet to receive the greeting from her, from each of the aspects that compose her. Her soul, her smile, her faults. I just sit here.

And that clock still ticks away the time…