Everyday I'm Hustling..

In twelve hours, i got myself into around ten shows to review, a legit media outlet for them to be read on, and the attention of a major magazine I hope to work for.

I WONT STOP TIL I WIN.

FUCK YOU TUMOR. FUCK YOU LIFE. FUCK ANYONE WHO DOUBTS ME OR GETS IN MY WAY.

Back to work.

Wednesday with the Wizard Playlist 1/12/11

Humo Del Cairo - Nimbo
Desert Sessions - Girl Boy Tom
Ted Nugent - Stranglehold
Litamus - Miles Away
Howl - You Jackals Beware
Revelation - Stars Almost Drown
Taint - Zealouts and Whores
Clutch - The Mob Goes Wild
The Warlocks - The Midnight Sun
Goblin Cock - We Have A Bleeder
The Sword - Warp Riders
Apostle of Solitude - Acknowledging The Demon
Crowbar - Coming Down
Electric Wizard - Venus In Furs
Graveyard - Evil Ways
Serpent Throne - Headed to an Unmarked Grave
Ghost - Elizabeth
Children of Bodom - Sixpounder
Pantera - I'm Broken
Integrity - Armenian Persecution
Reign Supreme - Still Unbroken
Unearth - Zombie Autopilot
Nirvana 2002 - Slumber
Haarp - All, Alone
Kylesa - Spiral Shadow
Fu Manchu - Godzilla
New Lows - Stagnant Stride
Sloth - Germanian
Lamb of God -11th Hour
Darkest Hour - Sound of Surrender
Nails - Unsilent Death
Bison BC - Slow Hands of Death
Kvelertak - Mjod
All Pigs Must Die - Sermon for the End
Torche - Amnesian
Judas Priest - One for the Road
Grand Magus - Brotherhood of Sleep
Witchcraft - Chylde of Fire
Black Sabbath - St Vitus Dance
Doomriders - Posession
Glassjaw - All Good Junkies Go To Heaven
Saviours - Cavern of Mind
Pentagram - Forever My Queen
Superjoint Ritual - Personal Insult
Ozzy Osbourne - Over The Mountain
High On Fire - Snakes For The Divine
The Fucking Wrath - Fangs of God
OFF! - Upsidedown
Animals As Leaders - CAFO
Slayer - Ghosts of War
Cro Mags - Street Justice
Trapped Under Ice - Half A Person
Vision of Disorder - Element
Martyr AD - American Hollow
Pulling Teeth - Ritual
Black Breath - Unholy Virgin
Iron Age - Disposessed
Mammoth Grinder - Iron Pigs
Trash Talk - Manifest Destination
Black Dahlia Murder - Funeral Thirst
The Red Chord - Antman
Terror - Overcome
Most Precious Blood - Less Than Zero
The Hope Conspiracy - Truth and Purpose
Throwdown - You Can't Kill Integrity
Rwake - Unleashing Cosmic Destruction

Life Moves Fast...

Here's an insider tip about me: if I don't put stuff in here, it's because I've been busy, and usually busy means good. In this case, Greg, Sunny, and I have been hard at work getting our house together, and I have been getting used to a couple of new DJ gigs I got, and I keep getting newer ones. Go fucking me, right? So far, those things have been going great. We have a few more things to set up around the new house, and the CASA DE AWESOME will be in perfect form.

I had an irritating lapse in health insurance, which I have since rectified, so I sort of have to start the pituitary tumor removal process. Currently waiting on new info to give to old doctors so we can bing, bang, boom that bitch right on out and life can resume. I often wonder what this blog is going to be like without bad health. Am I going to write about random West Oakland shit I see all day? A funny thing happened while DJing at Godspeed? Was my life that interesting before I got sick? I guess we'll find out together.

So I should have all the major dates of the procedures this week, and hopefully some info on just what this is going to take to end and how long until I get to just be the me you all know and love. I am making plans for the future. They seem fun.

Tomorrow I am buying myself a new amp, and I am getting my music game back up and rolling. Sunshine and I collaborating, as well as some new friends who are doing things that aren't noisy, loud, screaming, etc. I am also trying to get some guitar stuff from a musical idol, but that's under wraps until that's reality.

Do any of you readers have any leads on how you getting paid for running ads on a blog works? Any help would be appreciated. Now to get some music writing done.

"Beware, I bare more grudges...than lonely high court judges...."

Black Mass Playlist 1/9/2011

Acid King - Evil Satan
Sleep - Dragonaut
Electric Wizard - The Satanic Rites of Count Drugula
Black Sabbath - War Pigs
Neurosis - A Sun That Never Sets
Witch - Seer
Doomriders - Come Alive
Nachtmystium - Ghosts of Grace
Saviours - We Roam
Christian Mistress - Desert Rose
Baroness - A Horse Called Golgotha
Mayhem - Deathcrush
Pantera - 5 Minutes Alone
Darkest Hour - The Sadist Nation
Killswitch Engage - Rose of Sharyn
Eighteen Visions - The Psychotic Thought That Satan Gave Jesus
Animals As Leaders - CAFO
Dillinger Escape Plan - Milk Lizard
God Forbid - Antihero
Kvelertak - Mjod
Municipal Waste - Mind Eraser
Kylesa - Spiral Shadow
The Sword - Warp Riders
Dio - Rainbow In The Dark
Anthrax - Be All, End All
Today Is The Day - In The Eyes Of God
Megadeth - Holy Wars...The Punishment Due
Judas Priest - One For The Road
Leaf Hound - Work My Body
Queens of the Stone Age - Regular John
Mercyful Fate - Nuns Have No Fun
Van Halen - Aint Talkin Bout Love
Metallica - Four Horsemen
Black Breath - Unholy Virgin
Slayer - Dead Skin Mask
Mastodon - Blood and Thunder
Ozzy Osbourne - Mr Crawley
Def Leppard - Photograph
Clutch - Escape From The Prison Planet

I Don't Wanna Grow Up Playlist 1/8/11

Jawbreaker - Fireman
Lagwagon - Violins
Pretty Girls Make Graves - Sad Girls Por Vida
Underoath - Reinventing Your Exit
CIV - So Far, So Good, So What?
Alkaline Trio - Calling All Skeletons
The Murder City Devils - I Drink The Wine
Best Coast - Boyfriend
The Exploding Hearts - Throwaway Style
Generation X - Kiss Me Deadly
Morrissey - There Is A Place In Hell For Me and My Friends
Polar Bear Club - Living Saints
Living With Lions - A Bottle of Charades
Hot Water Music - Bitter End
Agent Orange - Bloodstains
Weezer - Say It Aint So
X - Nausea
Turbonegro - The Age of Pamplonus
The Bronx - They Will Kill Us All
Le Shok - Killed By Fuck
Descendents - Jean Is Dead
NOFX - The Bag
Set Your Goals - The Lost Boys
A Loss For Words - Half Step Down
Evergreen Terrace - New Friend Request
Bad Brains - Re:ignition
The Misfits - TV Casualty
Camera Obscura - French Navy
Milemaker - Frigid Forms Sell You Warmth
PIerce The Veil - Yeah Boy and Doll Face
Kid Dynamite - Pacifier
Good Riddance - Mother Superior
Bad Religion - Sanity
Pinhead Gunpowder - Reach for the Bottle
X-Ray Spex - Oh Bondage, Up Yours!
Gang of Four - Damaged Goods
The Lawrence Arms - Your Gravest Words
Pennywise - Homesick
Lifetime - Cut The Tension
Swing Kids - Disease
The Damned - Smash It Up
The Gaslight Anthem - '59 Sound
The Jam - Life From A Window
The Blood Brothers - We Ride Skeletal Lightning
Dead To Me - Cruel World
Against Me - Thrash Unreal
Circa Survive - The Glorious Nosebleed
Frank Turner - Long Live The Queen
It Dies Today - Enjoy The Slence
Poison The Well - Nerdy
Saves The Day - The Choke
Piebald - Grace Kelly With Wings
Coheed and Cambria - Time Consumer
Heavens - Watching You
Lemuria - In A World Of Ghosts...
Heartsounds - I Climbed For Miles
A Wilhelm Scream - The Pool
Jawbreaker - Do You Still Hate Me?
Texas Is The Reason - Back and to the Left
Gameface - Time After Time
The Promise Ring - The Deep South
Fugazi - Repeater
Samiam - Bad Day
Tiger Trap - My Broken Heart
Lucero - Tears Don't Matter Much
Title Fight - Memorial Field
The Get Up Kids - Off The Wagon
Say Anything - Alive With The Glory of Love
Motion City Soundtrack - My Favorite Accident
Screeching Weasel - My Brain Hurts
Built To Spill - Twin Falls Idaho
Shook Ones - All Grown Up
Rancid - Let's Go
Dropkick Murphys - Never Alone
The Jealous Sound - Anxious Arms
The Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Y Control
Some Girls - Now Only Memories Run Down These Tracks
The Faint - In Concert
Black Cat Music - Haunted Hotel Colorado
Death From Above 1979 - Blood on our Hands
The Van Pelt - His Steppe Is My Prarie
Seaweed - Crush Us All
Band of Horses - Is There A Ghost?
Deftones - Be Quiet And Drive
Quicksand - Head To Wall
Every Time I Die - Ebolorama
Inside Out - No Spiritual Surrender
Burn - ...And Shall Be Judged
Turning Point - Thursday
Outspoken - Shadow
Unbroken - Absentee Debate
SInce By Man - Light Fuse, Run Away
Jets To Brazil - Chinatown
Farside - Audience
Quicksand - Omission

Wednesday with the Wizard Playlist 1/5/10

Dark Castle - Flight Beyond
Kylesa - Spiral Shadow
US Christmas - The Scalphunters
Deep Purple - Child of Time
Ghost - Con Clavi Con Dio
Legend - The Destroyer
Saxon - Denim and Leather
Led Zeppelin - The Ocean
Humo Del Cairo - Fuego de San Antonio
Kyuss - Asteroid
The Sword - :Lawless Lands
Iron Age - Disposessed
Bison BC - Slow Hand of Death
Graveyard - Lost In Confusion
Karma To Burn - Nineteen
Turbonegro - Boys From Nowhere
Crucified Barbara - Sex Action
Ratt - Round and Round
Guns N Roses - My Michelle
Pantera - Walk
Slayer - Mandatory Suicide
Unearth - Zombie Autopilot
Darkest Hour - Demon(s)
Goblin Cock - We Got A Bleeder
Pentagram - Lazylady
Saviours - We Roam
Celtic Frost - Jeweled Throne
Eighteen Visions - Who Killed John Lennon?
Trapped Under Ice - Street Lights
Cro Mags - Don't Tread On Me
Terror - Overcome
Hatebreed - Doomsayer
Ink and Dagger - The Road To Hell
Hot Snakes - Salton Sea
Blue Oyster Cult - (Don't Fear The) Reaper
Clutch - 50,000 Unstoppable Watts
Torche - Healer
Queens of the Stone Age - You Would Know
Baroness - A Horse Called Golgotha
High On Fire - Frosthammer
A Life Once Lost - Rehashed
Mercyful Fate - Evil
Witchcraft - Wooden Cross
The Stooges - 1969
The White Stripes - My Doorbell
The Sword - Winter's Wolves
Metallica - Master of Puppets
Bad Brains - Re:ignition
Motorhead - Snaggletooth
Doomriders - Come Alive
Carcass - Embodiment

Hello 2011...It's so very nice to meet you

I started writing here because I needed an outlet. My health had fallen ill, I lost my band, and really wasn't in a place to play music in the fashion I play it. At first I tried to mask how I really felt by making light of puking and shitting, and as I got further into this situation, the depression which has always moved in and out of my life took center stage, and while I appreciate the manner in which it elevated my writing ability, it turned this place into an absolute drag to be around, and drove some people to call me a complainer or someone who was clambering for attention over a negative aspect of my life.

Throughout it all, I would always try and make an attempt to be positive. For as hard and as difficult going through this has been for me, its not as if my life has been devoid of good times and/or fun. I would try my hardest to bring some of that to light in this blog, but for whatever reason, conscious, subconscious, what have you, getting the negative out was more important. While I'll be the first to admit that I haven't always been the greatest at handling this chapter of my life. However, getting back on the writing horse has been a great choice I have made, and I will be grateful for going through all this for rekindling this aspect of who I am.

While we have made incredible progress in finding an answer and an end to all this bullshit, there are aspects of my personal life, which I will not get into via a public forum. Some of this, could be just as crippling emotionally as getting sick itself has been, I am not ignoring it, and I am going to cope and deal with that as best as I can. However, even in the face of that, MY LIFE IS TOTALLY RULING RIGHT NOW. I would to get you all caught up and talk about it, because I am proud to actually have something positive to share with you all.

For starters, I have moved out of my grandparent's apartment and into a new place with two of my best friends, Sunshine and Greg. Throughout the process of finding a new place to live for us, I wasn't involved because I was dealing with my own health, physically and mentally. Again, I love my grandparents so much. For housing me, feeding me, putting up with me, helping me financially, caring about me so much, catering to my every need, going above and beyond in so many ways, taking me back and forth to doctor and hospital appointments, trying to keep a sense of humor through it all, and, so many more things that there aren't enough words worthy enough to express how incredible they are as both grandparents and human beings in general. I will be forever indebted to them even more so than any grandson is to his grandparents. However, moving back out on my own was something that I needed to do, and even though I didn't know where I was going to stand as far as my ability to be able to care of myself, and were exactly my health, physically and emotionally, I needed to roll the dice and make this happen. Getting the autonomy of being an adult again has breathed new life into me. Having my own room that was put together by me, that had all of my stuff in it, and put together in the way I wanted to, had more of a positive impact on me in the last six months than anything else. Throughout the week, our house has started to come along. I purchased my first couch and a new computer desk ($20 for both, thank you so much Amanda Hines), and most of the boxes are getting unpacked and this place, more than any other place I have lived in since moving out of my parents' house at 18 years old, feels like my home.

We have art and posters of all of ours in our common areas. While technically, Sunshine, Greg, and I are friends and we could be called roommates, I feel like we are a family here. Our kitchen is clean. We don't haggle over stupid things like who's food is who's. We lend ourselves to each other for help, be it hanging a painting, a ride to the bank, or for support as all three of us struggle through the things we struggle with withn our own lives. On New Years Eve, we sat down and had a wonderful dinner before heading out for the night. Again, I LOVE MY GRANDPARENTS AND EVERYTHING THEY DID FOR ME IN MY TIME OF NEED. That being said, this is the greatest living experience I've had of my adult life. The other night before heading to Eli's to DJ, Greg put on Dag Nasty in the living room and we had the most epic "Values Here" singalong ever. I am the youngest member of this household (not including Fritter, Sunshine's loveable Pomertian puppy), so we keep it clean. We keep it comfortable. We plan on improving this house and making it the envy of everyone we know. There had been some debate on whether or not staying in Oakland was the right move for me. Upon arriving into my new house, I knew that my time in bay was not over yet.

In short, I am so happy to be in my own house that my overall health is much, much better. I got to call Tara, one of my best friends in the world, beaming with pride and hope instead of exhausted, sobbing, and scared for my life. This battle is far from over, but the calvary has arrived. It feels so good to feel so good.

You Know You On Top Cos Only Heaven Right Above It...

Right now, I am in the middle of a life event that not everyone gets to experience, and my friends who have experienced have never been able to answer how it felt for them to go through it.

It is so incredible and still in progress and deeply personal that I can't even begin to start addressing it in here in the appropriate manner, but choosing to bike to the DJ gig tonight, I had a few seconds of downtime, so I just had to put something up.

Fuck you 2010. Hello 2011.

Its nearly 3am, of course I'm not tired...

So life is finally starting to gain some sort of normalcy. I have my own room in a basement apartment with two of my bets friends. My room is starting to come along awesome. Ditched my shitty futon bed and am going for that simple, spartan mattress on the floor vibe. Since I have Greg "I Can Fix Anything In The Fucking World" Dias just on the other side of the bathroom, I get to hang my actual paintings up for the first time in a while. The first thing up was some custom flash by friend Mark Mitchell. If you live in Atlanta, you should get tatttooed by him because he is the shit.

This week's plans include more writing, music collaboration, new gigs, and finally getting a someone out of grad school hell so socialization can occur.

As far as my health goes, I am still waiting on a date for the MRI. That plus two drug tests and i should be ready for the endocrinologist should tell me when my shit comes out of my head. Lately I have been throwing up a lot in the middle of the night. I also have this spells where I feel dizzy and tired. I feel the need to consume sugar for some reason, even if I don't want to. This shit is fucking weird.

It would cool if you locals hit Eli's Wednesday, or Goospeed Friday or Saturday. The Godspeed shit is new and its New Year's Eve and Day so shit will be poppin' poppin'.

I feel a thousand times better in my own space, but I still have a long way to go. Sigh.

The Future Is Looking Bright Actually

One of the most challenging parts of dealing with my health situation is having to move in with my grandparents. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate them taking me in and taking care of me and feeding me and helping with me money when i needed it. I love them so much and they have gone above and beyond what anyone could to to take of me.. However, they live in a small apartment, are older, and have a their routines and their stuff and their things. I am 30, and even though I am in poor health and not really out doing all that much stuff, I can't really do what I want to do while living here. I can't have friends over, I could never bring a girl over here (which really hasn't been much of anything I've wanted to do all that bad, but still), and understandably, my grandparents get upset over things like coming home late, or basically doing whatever autonomous thing I choose to do as an adult.

Alas, on Monday, I will be moving into my new place with my good friends Sunshine and Greg. As sick as I was, I didn't participate at all in the house hunt, so tonight was the first time I saw the place. I have to say, it was the nicest house I ever saw in Oakland. My new room is cozy, and has the potential to be the perfect space that I have been lacking really since July because while I appreciated livning at the Hive, I never really made my room my own and I got so sick so fast that I was rarely there. I am really looking forward to moving in, having my own space, which I hope will ease my anxiety. Sunshine and Greg have already moved in, so I got to catch up with Sunshine for a minute. She got a new job at a bar not far from our house, which is leading to me getting a new dj gig over there, and allegedly I may have another new gig lined up at Pop's over in San Francisco. I am super excited about branching out into new places and, of course, stacking that paper.

On the health front, not much else has changed except my insomnia has gotten worse, and I'm pooing in a weird colors. I haven't gotten an MRI date, which means I haven't gotten a surgery either. So again, another stagnant holding pattern.

I will say, however, that over the past few days, I have seen some of the greatest sides of some of the greatest people, some of them new, some of them old. I have some incredible creative projects in the fire. I cant wait to get them going.

Each day the outlook gets better. I added another chapter of my book tonight. I can't wait to write about that.

I'd like to thank the following people for being fucking awesome to me this week: Koji, Mingo, Danielle, Carl, Chloe T, Beckah R, Sunshine, Paisley, Mary, Grace B, Grace A, Cang, Jack, Leanne, Carl at Action PR, and you the reader. See you tomorrow.

Wednesday with the Wizard Playlist 12/22/10

om: at giza
blue oyster cult: dont fear the reaper
parchman farm: too many people
the stooges: down on the street
the suicide file: i hate you
black sabbath: hole in the sky
off!: i dont belong
quest for fire: strange vacation
deep purple: child of time
fu manchu: eatin dust
iron age: dispossessed
judas priest: one for the road
pentagram: walk in the blue light
scorpions: in trance
the white stripes: dead leaves and the dirty ground
bad brains: re ignition
crowbar: planets collide
ghost: con clavi clon dio
karma to burn: nineteen
kylesa: spiral shadow
royal thunder: sleeping witch
ted nugent: stranglehold
baroness: a horse called golgotha
mastodon: oblivion
queens of the stone age: if only
saviours: we roam
torche: amnesian
witch: seer
sleep: dragonaut
mc5: rama lama fa fa fa
legend: the destroyer
hulmo del cairo: nimbo
quicksand: head to wall
the sword: lawless lands
helmet: give it
high on fire: snakes for the divine
acid king: evil satan
bison bc: slow hand of death
danzig: she rides
trash talk: worthless nights/walking disease
black breath: i am beyond
rzl dzl: ignorance is bliss remix
the blood brothers: set fire to the face on fire
christian mistress: desert rose
leaf hound: freelance fiend
ozzy osbourne: crazy train
clutch: big news II
black sabbath: planet caravan
barn owl: visions in dust
jesu: tired of me
neil young: cowgirl in the sand

Occasionally I act like real writer

http://sfist.com/2010/12/19/sfist_attends_wild_949s_wild_jam.php#comments

The Highs and Lows

Today was a day I had been looking forward to for a long time. Make fun of me all you want, but today was Wild 94.9's Wild Jam concert featuring Drake, who as pop as he may be, is one of my favorite rap/hip hop/urban/whatever artists currently out there, and my good friend was able to get me into the show for free. I was super fucking excited to see a dude who I had been pretty fucking into since last summer, and it was going to be nice to get out of town for the night. So I finished up a rather lackluster night of Djing at Eli's last night, sped home, and fell asleep as early as I could, but it was hard because honestly it was like how a little kid feels trying to sleep on Christmas Eve.

When I woke up today, I had a couple of missed phone calls from my internist. I am not a particularly big fan of using the phone in general, so I figured I'd get back to him when I was damn good and ready, and hopped in the shower. I hadn't been in the shower for more than three minutes when I heard my grandma pounding on the bathroom door and telling me that Dr. Chen was on the phone, Now, as I have stated in earlier posts, tensions in this apartment have been running a tad high due to being in such close quarters under the stress of me being sick combined with the generational differences in methods of coping with illness and stress, but I know that my grandma wouldn't be pounding on the bathroom door mid shower for no good reason. I told her I'd be out in a minute, turned off the shower, grabbed a towel, and went into the kitchen to get the phone.

On my Tuesday doctor's visit, my doctor ordered some blood tests, specifically for my liver, kidney, and thyroid. Almost in passing, I had mentioned to him that my sex drive had been more or less non-existent over the last two months. I told him I'm aware that a 30 year old male shouldn't have that perma-boner, fuck anything that walks libido of a teenager, but I figure I am going to tell my doctors anything that's weird or out of character for me because it may lead to finding an end to all this suffering and bullshit I'm going through. My doctor decided to test my testosterone for the hell of it. Low sex drive is normal in people suffering from depression, but hey, what the hell? They already were sticking a needle in me anyway, what's a little more blood, right?

He had called me back to tell me that my liver, kidney, and thyroid tests had all come back normal, but something was seriously wrong with my testosterone. I asked him to explain to me what that meant.

According to my doctor, the average range of the testosterone level of an adult male is between 200 and 800. A thirty year old male in relative good health should be somewhere around the 500 range. What level was I, you ask? 34.

Yeah, you read that right 34. Not even in triple fucking digits. Not even the low side of normal. If you want my term for being that far off of the normal range, it would be PRETTY FUCKED UP.

He had ran some tests regarding my pituitary gland, and the findings to that were also not up to par. He told me he had already referred me to an endocrinologist, order two very specific blood test that the endocrinologist would need to start her work, and ordered me an MRI for my brain. His early prognosis is that I have a tumor in, or near my pituitary gland, which is located a the base of my brain at the top of my neck, and that it would have to be cut out in order to render this problem solved. He said that while it isn't necessarily related, he wouldn't rule out all of my gastrointestinal issues being a side effect of this gland problem, but that would have to be something that was studied and documented after i had addressed the pituitary issue.

So, to sum that up in a real short sentence, brain surgery is in my near future.

When I got off the phone, I didn't really know how to feel. On one hand, this was the first bit of medical info I have gotten since all of this started that actually had like, a tangible end to it. It was the first thing a doctor had said to me that made some sort of sense, and discovered a problem that had a solution. On the other hand, its a fucking TUMOR that requires fucking BRAIN SURGERY. That's a little more of a big deal than like, getting your wisdom teeth pulled.

I called my parents, let my besets of friends know, let some other people know, then got it together enough to head down to the show. I mean, tumor or not, fucking Drizzy was playing tonight and I wasn't about to miss that for anything. His set was incredible, and it completely got my mind off of my health for 45 minutes. However, I headed back to Oakland from San Jose, stopped by a friends, and before I knew it, I was back to being alone in my room with the weight of this new found discovery bearing down on me like a whole new, much larger monkey is now on my back,

So now its 2:23am, I'm eating graham crackers and drinking cranberry juice, and riding a pharmaceutical buzz (sorry family, you drink wine or smoke weed, I eat the valium that I'm prescribed, accept reality). I have lived through hard times, walked through the fire, made mistakes and took lessons away from them, and am not one to cower in the face of adversity. It still kills me, however, to think back to June of 2010 and think of how happy and normal my life was going. I had a girlfriend I loved, a job I could tolerate, plans to go to grad school, was playing great music with great friends, and watched all of that slip away from me as I puked and shitted and cramped and cried alone in my grandparents' guest room. I am not asking for free ride. I am not asking for life to be easy. I just want life to not be complicated for like, a year of my life. I want to not have to fight, to be brave, to be strong, to have to endure misery, just for like, a year. How the fuck did I go from riding my bike freely down Broadway every morning to work, bullshitting with Greg, making dinner with Paisley, and playing shows with Loose Endz, to losing 30 lbs and screaming at my grandmother about how i have given up hope on ever finding a cause for my sickness and how I have thought about throwing myself off of the seventh floor balcony of their apartment on more than one occasion? And now, when an answer may have finally presented itself, it mostly likely will involve cutting the base of my skull open to remove some shit from a gland? What the fuck bro?

I've cried more in the last six months than I have in my entire life. I've thrown up more in the last six months than most people probably do in a lifetime. I won't get into the diarrhea because its just downright unpleasant. I have tried to keep my head up and to not put this on everyone I know, and been told I was too self-absorbed to be a good friend. I have cut out negative elements of my life. I have been told that I am too candid in public about how I feel, and that the few small things I do to keep the illusion of having a regular adult life are either counterproductive to my health or detrimental to my feeling better. Essentially, I am failing people at even being sick. I have taken all of this and still I pull myself out of bed, in the morning, in the afternoon, and sometimes after dark. I have done everything every doctor has told me to do. I shit onto saran wrap and scooped into vials and dropped them off to be mailed somewhere and examined. I have gotten so much blood drawn I have track marks. I take antibiotics, anti depressants, anti nausea meds, anti anxiety meds, all of which have side effects that make me feel just as sick, albeit different sick, than i feel anyway.

After doing all that, I now get told that the key to getting this all fixed is going to be a bone saw, a scalpel, anesthesia, and an incredible amount of pain and discomfort.

While I am happy to finally get a lead on something that may actually put an end to all of this, the severity of what the cure may actually be is incredibly soul crushing, and its very hard to smile and keep my head up when brain surgery looms over my future like a squall over open ocean.

I just want a few months of nothing. Of just existing. I don't even remember what that's like. I don't even remember what being me in average health feels like anymore.

I'd like to thank Dre Stewart for getting me into the show tonight, and continually doing me favors like that whenever he gets the chance. I don't ever take what you do, or our friendship for granted, and I look forward to gladly being able to return the favor in any way I can throughout our friendship in the future.

I'd like to thank my family and friends for putting up with me and all of this, and for putting up with however this unfolds in my future. I am fucking scared and angry and puzzled. I am sure I will snap on some of you, say horrifically scary things to others, or perhaps clam up and fall off the face of the earth and not be around for others. I am only a 30 year old with less than perfect social skills who has never been this sick before in his life. I am doing the best I can, and I know that sometimes my best sucks. Just bare with me. I wouldn't wish how I feel right now on anyone in the world. Not even anyone on that very short list in the back of my mind of people who I fucking despise with every inch of my being.

I just want to be me. I am scared of what my future holds, and fuck, I don't even know how to keep talking about this. I am crying all over my keyboard right now. I should probably just shut the fuck up and go to bed.

Either way, today was a day that for 45 minutes, I felt like I was on top of the world screaming along with 15000 other kids to a Canadian rapper who knows to sing, and was pulled to the lowest depths of hell dwelling over the fact that I have to get my skull cut the fuck open.

"...and you just tell me what you down for. Anything you down for. I know things have changed; know I used to be around more, but you should miss me a little when I'm gone. i just hope you miss me a little when I'm gone...gone...gone..."

12/15 Wednesday with the Wizard Playlist

for those who dont know, i dj at elis mile high club on wednesday nights from 7 to 11. its mostly a metal night, with an emphasis on stoner metal, doom, classic metal, and basically dirty sounding shit. heres what i played tonight:

earthless: sonic prayer
humo del cairo: nimbo
black sabbath: the wizard
kyuss: supa scoopa and mighty scoop
george thorogood and the destroyers: one bourbon, one scotch, one beer
quest for fire: bison eyes
judas priest: one for the road
ghost: con clavo con dio
zz top: tush
titan: sweet dreams
royal thunder: sleeping witch
the white stripes: icky thump
pentagram: 20 buck spin
ted nugent: stranglehold
graveyard: evil ways
danzig: tired of being alive
high on fire: hung, drawn, and quartered
kylesa: spiral shadow
parchman farm: mirror spirit
blood ceremony: master of confusion
doomriders: come alive
kvelertak: mjod
black breath: unholy virgin
saviours: we roam
white zombie: thunderkiss 65
helmet: meantime
karma to burn: nineteen
torche: amnesian
the sword: lawless lands
clutch: sleestack lightning
the high confessions: mistaken for cops
dead meadow: babbling flower
queens of the stone age: go with the flow
turbonegro: sell your body to the night
murder city devils: lemuria rising
fu manchu: shit kicker
baroness: a horse called golgotha
the melvins: a history of bad men
13th floor elevators: youre gonna miss me
sleep: dragonaut
eyehategod: 99 miles of bad road
witchcraft: wooden cross
acid king: dry run
christian mistress: desert rose
thin lizzy: boys are back in town
every time i die: the new black
sonic youth: white cross
black flag: i love you
born against: nine years later
leaf hound: drowned my life in fear
serpent throne: wheels of satan
diamond nights: destination diamonds
crowbar: planets collide

These Days

It hasn't always been the easiest thing to be me, and lately its been really hard. If you read this nonsense, you're probably sick of hearing about how hard it is. However, I am having one of those moments of positive inspiration that lately I would call rare, but in my earlier years seemed to be much more frequent.

First in foremost, my best friend had his first son, and second child over all today. I can't even pretend to have any idea what that's really like, but I know a) that he and his girlfriend are so incredibly happy right now and that b) while I go through some pretty serious bouts with pain and discomfort, I'm pretty sure the worst of this isn't quite on par with pushing a football out of a vagina. I mean, I've seen some interesting things in film, and those girls looked like they were enjoying themselves, but I'm sure that's not what having a baby is like.

Hearing the news that the lil guy arrived put wind in my sails. While I can't wait to hang out with the little guy, and see how happy he makes his parents and sister, it obviously didn't make the nausea that kept me in bed until 3pm any easier. However, the news of his birth makes me feel hopeful. To be honest, and friends and family, please don't take this as a slight or that I take all that you do for me for granted, its the first time I've felt hopeful and positive about my own life in a long time. I don't really know how or why its effecting me like this. I am in no way trying to take the spotlight from someone else's life event and pin my horse shit situation to it, but when you're having a hard time, you try and find whatever light that comes your way in the dark. While he isn't my son, he will always be close to me, and that's about as bright as it gets no matter how dark your light may be.

I got the news while I was walking up Piedmont Ave. as part of my new regiment against sleeping like a vampire. Since I was struggling to keep from throwing up during most of the hours whilst the sun was up today, I opted to walk on what's probably the only street in Oakland where you are in zero danger of being fucked with by anyone after dark. I got frozen yogurt, which tasted great but wasn't the funnest thing to ingest in the 56 degree and somewhat damp evening air. I was happy to know that 400 miles to the south, one of my closest friends was beaming with joy and pride, and for whatever reason, it made me feel like even though I can't put my finger on exactly what, how, when, where, who, or why, that there is a reason to see what's on the other side of feeling like absolute shit every day of my life and enduring constant digestive upheaval.

Thanks Jav. For everything and no less than one thousand times over.

Transylvanian Hunger

This morning my grandparents and I went out for breakfast. I didn't really feel hungry at all, but I knew it was morning and that I needed to eat because about twelve hours had passed since I enjoyed a bagel and cream cheese for dinner last night. My stomach doesn't ever get that "hungry" feeling. I can count on one hand the times I've felt hunger pangs since the onset of all this back in June. You could give me complete and total control of every aspect of the menu for any given meal, and I still doubt that I'd feel hungry or really all that excited about eating in the first place.

I started thinking about the word hunger, and ways that it is used in simile and metaphor for other aspects of life. I spend most days resting (save for my super bitchin' active walks I've been all up on since Thursday's date with Dr. Destiny) because I don't physically feel well. I don't have the strength or the drive to do things that are overly active. I can't work. The one time I attempted to ride my bike since wrecking it as a result of dehydration was a horrible idea that I somehow walked away from unscathed. I more or less sit on the sidelines and try and fit myself into the busy lives of my friends who all have very important shit going on. It dawned on me today as I stared at a rather unappealing plate of eggs, italian sausage, hash browns, and toast, that not only do I never feel hunger in terms of food or nourishment, but I'm starting to lose the hunger accompanies living. Aside from picking up the pieces of my physical well being, once this issue gets resolved I am going to have to pick up the rest of my life. I tried to think about exactly what my life is going to look like on the other side of this awful mess, and well, nothing came to mind.

Now I am a firm believer in taking each day as it comes, and I have never been the world's strongest long term planner, but aside from not even being able to picture a healthy me living some sort of life beyond being chained to the commode, I am lacking the motivation to even pursue what that life is going to be. I see moving out of this state of waiting and testing and feeling 4 to 6 out of 10 on my best day as undoubtedly the most daunting trial life has placed in front of me yet. Five months of having your hopes dashed by non-event diagnostic test after non-event diagnostic test has drained me of having positivity as my number-one, go-to frame of mind.

Short of this blog, a memoir that's turning into less of a memoir and more of stories of my poor decision making strewn about my mindless babbling on all sorts of topics relating to making poor decisions, and taking Hipstamatic pics for my tumblr, there isn't any sort of tangible life I'm longing for upon getting healthy. There are people who I love that I want to hang out with and spend time with, but I am less than thrilled about the best possible scenario for a life in Oakland at full health (and the worst case scenarios are fucking unbearable to even imagine), and there aren't really any other cities or situations that come to mind as progressive and proper plans for continuing my life post recovery.

Not trying to be dramatic, and believe me, after last week's near 5150, this isn't a cry for help that hasn't already been heard and worked on, but I'm somewhat worried as to where to go from here. I do enjoy putting my bullshit into print, and apparently its not a complete waste of time to read according to some of my friends (and please, if you're saying that just to be nice, stop or ladies, if you're saying that because you want a piece, I'm way easier than that), so maybe if I keep hammering these keys I can write my way into something that pays using my brain versus punishing my already shredded body for an hourly wage again.

I am feeling my depression change as each week goes by. Last weekend was undoubtedly an aggressive outburst and how I managed to keep sharp objects entirely out of my hands may be proof that there is some sort of supernatural, omniscient being hard at work throughout these coptic times, but as the week has gone by and while I don't necessarily feel any better about anything at all, the emotional suffering has evolved. Depression throbs through my body like a dull, deep ache. Today as I walked through the Costco in San Leandro, I felt the ebb and flow of depression carry me down each aisle like currents in the Mississippi River. I wonder if I look as bad as I feel, because if my current relentless battle to stay composed is more exhausting than soccer, and there are times when I feel like I'm losing both the battle and the war.

"Burning inside (I cross myself, it doesn't help) Because I'm not smart enough (I'm digging into hot white) Learning not to lie."

I'm About To Have A Nervous Breakdown...

Actually, I'm not about to have a nervous breakdown, I actual did have one Saturday morning. It wasn't pretty. While I am pretty candid about what I share here, the gory details are going to be omitted because well, it was awful and not everything is for the prying eyes of the more than likely, uninterested public. The short version is that I received the results of my colonoscopy from November 23rd on Friday afternoon, and what shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone, there was nothing abnormal afoot in my anal area. This news itself wasn't so frustrating, but when I was told that I wouldn't be able to get a follow up appointment with the doctor regarding any of his findings until early February, that was enough to make the Corvair that is my heart, brain, and/or soul to become even more unsafe at any speed.

Let me say this though, I made a real effort to keep it together that day once I got off the phone with his receptionist, who's incredibly friendly voice and helpful demeanor only made the perceived reality of my situation at that time sting even more. Every cell in my body ached to be whisked away on a recreational/self-medication vacation from reality with a side of bodily harm that, as grim as this may be to read, could have resulted in me shedding this mortal coil sans regrets. But, I didn't go off the deep end like that. I got stoned off of a pre-rolled joint from a dispensary off Divisadero in the City, and ended up killing a few hours in various record stores and donut shops waiting for a friend to be free of obligations before shooting back to Oakland to be in the presence of another source of strength for me in the face of all this anguish, and tried to ride out the wave of hopelessness and do as little damage as possible. As time is want to do, it slipped away, and I didn't find myself returning home from this adventure in positive coping until 7:00 AM Saturday morning. This act of coping didn't sit well with some of my biggest supports, which lead to a meltdown from the constantly oppressive pressure and tension that ebbs and flows throughout this apartment I'm staying in like the dull, achy pain a deep, vividly discolored bruise. The ensuing outburst switched participants while never faltering in intensity or insanity, so it was decided that it was in my best interest to get out of town and off of the radar for a couple of days.

So I left the mean streets of Oakland to the rural roadways of Carmel Valley, where I spent most of the part of my childhood that any adult actually remembers. While I struggled with the notion of moving myself from self-imposed isolation to real deal, friendless void part of the state isolation, I was too emotionally drained to board another train of thought, and surrendered myself to the control of my parents. There were many moments of my time away that were incredibly refreshing and much needed for my brain, which is now in officially as bad of shape as my digestive tract, but there were also cold, lonely moments that were glaring reminders that my life has gotten seriously fucked up by the events of the last six months, and the idea of climbing out of this hole only continues to get larger and more daunting as days go by. My mother unleashed her keen ability to wheel and deal upon the receptionists in my doctor's office and somehow, by the grace of God, Jesus, Alllah, Krsna, Shiva, Buddha, Lemmy, and John Smith (in no particular order, so I don't need any boo fucking hoo comments out of you religious types), totally weaseled an appointment with the doc himself on Thursday, December 9th, which if you can't do math very well, was yesterday. Much faster than waiting until February 2011, right?

Yesterday's visit was my first with the doctor himself since consulting with him way back in September, and we discussed some things that are going good about my disorder, things that aren't going so good about my disorder, and how to sustain the good while improving the not so good. Another CT scan was booked, this time of my small bowel, and I was told to work on getting my sleep schedule back to that of a normal human, and not someone with severe, multi-continental jet lag. While it isn't really treading new ground, and remain skeptical of this being an area in which the key to this identifying and remedying this fucking Pandora's Box of of grim Life felt it needed to unleash on me. I have a lot ahead of me to fix, but things look lighter today than they did Friday afternoon of last week.

Over the last two weeks, I have began to write down some of the better fucked up stories I've lived through for a sort of anthology or memoir I intend on publishing. Between that and the often overwhelming anxiety and uneasiness of feeling shitty all the time, sometimes writing in here is stretching me very thin. I am, however, always the asshole fucking with his iphone. I downloaded a few of the camera apps, which have direct connections to Tumblr, so I have created caffeineorme.tumbr.com. It is more or less the visual accompaniment to this blog. Sometimes pics will correspond with blog entries, other times they will be they're own entities.

caffeineorme.tumbler.com

I could get into why this took so long, but its weird, so I wont.

Holy Fucking Shit

In a shocking turn of events made possible by Captain Chase Corum, there may be a positive turn of events in the realm of fixing my fucked up stomach.

Neuroendocrine Tumors.

Of course this information comes at the beginning of a Holiday Weekend, so getting this together is going to take some time, but we may have a promising lead towards an end to my misery.

Thank you to Paul Curry, Erin Curry, and Chase motherfucking Corum.

The Bridge

When I was a little kid, my parents lived in San Leandro, my dad's parents lived in Oakland (the very apartment I'm staying in now to be precise), and my mom's parents lived in San Francisco. I spent my fair share of time staring out the back of all of their cars, looking at the Bay Area as it blurred by, and having family on both sides of the Bay meant I spent a lot of time traversing the Bay Bridge.

This morning, on my way to UCSF for my colonoscopy, I felt like I was on the Bay Bridge episode of "This Is Your Life". My grandpa and I left the apartment at 6:30AM this morning to ensure a punctual arrival for my penetration, and like every other trip I take to UCSF, I spent the ride looking at the side of the road behind sunglasses so that I had a hope in hell of hiding how close to sobbing hysteria I was. As we entered the toll plaza, the gloomy grey light in the sky and countless headlights in front of us reminded of all night drives on the East Coast while being on tour with Throwdown. I felt just as tired and stressed out as I did on tour with them certain times, but I was also reminded of how care free and easy life was then. I had a functioning stomach and I didn't feel like some sort of failure as a human being yet. Ignorance was bliss.

I used to live in a warehouse on Tehama St in San Francisco when I first moved to the Bay in 2005. If you were to drive there from the Easy Bay, you took the first exit on the right and basically you were there. In fact, from the huge windows in the front of 58 Tehama which were above the bar in the kitchen, you could see the exit ramp. I had a lot of good times in Tehama. I got to see Big Business, Saviours, Get Hustle, The Starvations, Landmind Marathon, Pelican, FM Bats, Geisha Girls, Backstabbers Inc, and The Holy Kiss all from the comfort of my own home. Tehama was also the greatest built in after party you could have ever imagined, and many a night didn't actually end until well into the next day if you ended up there after a night at the bars. However, good things never last, and it was eventually overran by a russian coke-dealing, Burning Man weirdo. Not that I have any ill will towards that guy, but it was the end of a good time.

As we made our way through the city, we crossed Fell and Divisdero, which is about a block from where Kindle lives, or at least used to live because I haven't talked to him in a few months. At 7AM, the sky was already pretty light, but it wasn't too much lighter than the many times I would stagger and stumble out of his apartment and up Divisdero to Haight St where I would wait in the freezing cold for the N Judah Owl bus to show up. The great thing about the N Judah Owl bus is that it follows absolutely no schedule what so ever, so taking it in any regard, whether is was out of your mind wasted at 6am to get back home to the Sunset, or at 1:45AM from 47th Ave and Judah so you could get to Whole Foods Market Franklin at 4AM to get the store opened before the 6AM all store meeting. The N Judah Owl bus doesn't care if your motives are pure and righteous or juvenile and stupid. It was the great equalizer. No matter what your plans were, it made you suffer nonetheless.

After my procedure my grandpa took me out for a late breakfast at Toast on 24th St. We headed back towards the freeway down 24th St to Valencia, then to Duboce, and to the freeway. The memories of this part of the route are really too much to talk about right now, but nothing like familar street signs, corners, restaurants, sidewalks, and graffiti tags to set your mind going on why you just couldn't cut it as what you needed to be.

As we got back onto the Bridge, I barely kept it together. Back when I was four, and I was getting driven home from my grandparents house to my parent's in San Leandro, I used to look up at the steel rafters that hang down above the cars on the lower deck and be reminded of the ravoli my parents and grandparents would feed me from the Lakeshore Deli in Oakland. Being a rather cunning little shit head as a child, I would often attempt to manipulate whatever dinner plans were in order to include these ravioli as we passed them on the way home. Today the lower deck looked much different. It looked like a part of a scene built for one of the Nightmare on Elm Street movies. The steel beams that cross on the side looked like bone. The view of the entire expansion of the bridge was like some gnarled, fucked up spinal cord that had been beaten and twisted one too many times. On the Oakland side of the bridge past the Treasure Island tunnel, the red rust smeared at random on all of the steel was my blood. Blood I left on the operating table at Long Hospital 103 at the UCSF campus. Blood I left all over a small room of an apartment on 20th St. Blood I left on 47th Ave and Judah. Blood I left on 36th Ave and Anza. Blood I left at 58 Tehama St. Blood I left on sleeves, tissues, paper towels, straws, barstools, pool tables, sidewalks, and faces of the last five years of my adult life in the Bay Area.

I don't feel hopefully or confident about today's test. The only difference today's procedure had from any previous operation I've had since getting sick was that I at certain times, I was awake enough to try and have a conversation with the doctor and nurses at certain points, but they would just look back at me and say nothing. I knew what I was trying to say, and I was trying to say pleasant and helpful things, but I'm sure that the words themselves sounded like gibberish from a raving mad man, which warranted their "shhhs" and their gentle hands pushing me back towards the drooled on pillow at the head of my gurney. Before drifting off into another sedation intensified slumber, and laughed to myself and thought "wow, I've never lived through something so metaphorically related to how I feel about my own life before".

The End of the Silence

Hey Friends.

Haven't been here in a minute. To be honest, I haven't really been anywhere in a minute. While this blog is a mecca for self-deprecating humor and less than savory topics, I try to not write on here when I am in the danger zone of depression. What is the danger zone of depression, you ask? Well, without being too revealing or dramatic, contrary to the new leaves I was trying to turn over the last time I wrote in this thing, I more or less spiraled into even a darker place for a few weeks. I don't really want to get into it. Those of you who are close know, and a lot of you who I thought were close talk a lot of shit and spread rumors, so let's just call that a wash. It really isn't all that interesting anyway, otherwise I'd be writing about it.

I'm still sick as ever. In fact, I was just reading over the latest colonoscopy prep paperwork I got from UCSF to get ready for tomorrow night's pee butt festival. While they found a hiatal hernia and fat on my liver via an ultrasound, so far neither finding really lead to any sort of recovery plan that will get me back to being full of piss and vinegar. Every time I go to the doctor, I get information that is useless to me and each visit ends up wasting my time. I don't know how going to the doctor makes you feel, but for me its an incredibly anxiety-ridden and agonizing experience, and I always leave the office feeling worn out. After Thursday's disappointment, I fell asleep all day. I am not a teenager. I don't like sleeping for hours throughout the sunny parts of the day. In fact, my sleeping schedule is all fucked up because I'm depressed. I have incredibly unpleasant thoughts all the time, and have spent several nights on the phone with friends talking myself out of very bad head spaces. Some of you readers may not have known this was going on with me (sorry Mom, Grandma, friends, whoever), because I act better than Leonardo DiCaprio on his worst day, but I feel like staying silent isn't doing me any favors.

I have had a few glimmering moments over the last few weeks, and been lucky enough to be reminded that I have incredible friends who love and care about me dearly. I have tried to cling fast to those moments and ride them like a wave as far as I could, but inevitably I always come crashing back to the reality of acid reflux, bile, and feces that reek of rotting and sulfur. The utter hopelessness of not getting any better and not hearing any sort of confident answer from medical professionals ultimately silences any fun gained from meeting new friends at a party, going to see Acid King, or whatever the fuck else I've done since the last time I wrote here. I think the fact that no other events of the last three weeks stand out in my mind should be testimony as to how lost at sea I really feel right now. I feel guilty for saying this much, knowing that it probably won't sit well with people who care about me, but hey everyone, this is what's up. I'd rather address it with words than with silence which, while obviously says that things aren't so well with me, allows for minds to wander and assumptions to be made.

To be honest, I'm at a loss of what to do with myself. I am heavily questioning my current situation in life in terms of where I am, and whether it would do me some good to get away from here for a while. Last night, I broke into tears thinking about how back in June, I was pretty fucking happy with the direction my life was heading. Things were going so great. Since then, it's all gone down the toilet, literally. I've lost independence, love, friends, creative outlets, and now I'm starting to lose hope. I have a very complicated relationship with the professional mental health industry, and that coupled with my latest horrible experience with medical professionals regarding my stomach, leaves me doubtful about using that as a means to make sense of myself. I don't necessarily have a better idea in mind; I don't have any alternative in mind, but needless to say, life keeps coming at me daily and I feel myself slipping into darkness blacker than I have lived through in my 30 years.

However, I have to say that I had a moment today that put me at ease more than anything has over the last four weeks. After having a particularly soul-crushing Saturday night that provided me with next to no sleep, I didn't feel particularly confident in my ability to be both left alone and unharmed today. I decided to join my grandparents on their Sunday errands, which included a stop by my grandfather's dry cleaning plant, where most of my worldly possessions are being stowed until I find a new place to live. While at the plant, I decided to grab my leather jacket from my hanging clothes which are kept on a pole in the back of the plant. For whatever reason, it felt really good to put that jacket on. It felt like I was wearing more than a jacket, it felt like armor or a shield from the ever-plummeting temperatures of the the Bay Area fall. It's only a jacket and from what I can tell, it doesn't have curative powers of any kind, but it felt really, really nice to wear.

After getting home from errands, I promptly fell into a depression-induced slumber and except for the 45 minutes that it took to eat dinner, slept until ten PM. I sat around staring at the computer for an hour trying to figure out what to do with myself, when my friend Tina texted me and invited me over to her apartment for some light socialization and leafy libations. She lives about ten blocks away, I really like her apartment, and she's the bee's fucking knees as far as friends go, so I decided to head over to her house and hang out. I thought about driving over there, but for whatever reason, walking felt incredibly appealing. I put my trusty leather jacket on over my black Saviours hoodie, grabbed my ipod, and headed down the back elevator of my grandparents' apartment building and out to the street.

For those of you not in California, it has been pissing down rain all over the Golden State all weekend. The atmosphere decided to relent, which provided a break in the storm for most of the day, but 19th St. was still wet as I set off towards Tina's apartment. There was a chill in the air, and most of the orange and yellow leaves from the trees were strewn about the streets and piled over storm drains, but being outside felt nice because my leather jacket was keeping my body warm and the sheer brutality of the Black Dahlia Murder's "Unhallowed" record was keeping my brain and heart at least upbeat, if not entirely happy. Walking through the damp streets of Oakland at midnight soothed my soul. Some may call it unsafe, yet it was still oddly comforting. I spent a few hours with Tina getting caught up on life, listening to records, giggling, staring at the walls, and talking shit to her cats. At about 2AM I decided to walk home. The atmosphere had decided that break from the rain had gone on long enough while I sat in Tina's living room listening to the Scene Creamers and hitting her vaporizer, and as I stepped out of the entryway to her building onto Telegraph Ave, it was pouring. Even though water came streaming down from the sky, it felt good to be in my leather jacket, sauntering towards downtown Oakland in the chilly dark. The way my jeans hugged my thighs felt right and the noise my Vans low tops made on the wet concrete gave me that same satisfactory feeling a seven year old gets from stomping in a puddle. I changed the ipod from the Black Dahlia Murder to Saviours and attempted to find the most sheltered route for the journey back to my grandparents' apartment. The overall commute between my grandparents' and Tina's couldn't have been more than twenty minutes altogether, but they were the best twenty minutes I've had to myself in a long time. Even though I am constantly uncomfortable, I don't know when or if I will ever feel like I did back in June, or exactly what I am going to do with myself or my life as this seemingly never-ending chapter of my life continues to twist and turn over days on a calendar, comfort and contentment aren't always so fleeting, and really are pretty easy to obtain if you step back and focus on the little things like leather jackets and good records.

I have been low as fuck for quite some time now. I have been trying my best to keep it, and really me, off of everyone's radar because at times it is a scary, losing control of my life kind of low. I don't know what I intend to do about it. I still feel just as sick as ever, and potentially sicker because my emotional health is in the shitter (along with most of the food I attempt to eat). I don't have an answer, and I'm not asking any of you for an answer, an opinion, or anything at all really. However, tonight, even in the the face of daunting despair and frustration at levels I didn't know were possible, I felt comfortable for a short period of time. I am not looking for sympathy by saying this, and I understand that really, these are first world problems and there are tons of people with far more horrific shit going on in their lives. That being said, I still have been feeling pretty fucking bad, to the point where it has me shook, and tonight, even for a short period, I caught a break from the emotional and physical onslaught that made me feel hopeful and inspired enough to pick myself up and start writing in this thing again. For the most part, I am a relatively private person, but I'm realizing that sometimes that is to my own detriment and that sitting here in silence with nothing but my own thoughts is more than likely going to result in something tragic versus something productive. My mind is a cesspool of complications, emotions, worries, regrets, and situations, and the discomfort in my abdomen provides a rather sadistic and extra-dimentional (I think i just invented that phrase, fuck yeah, go me) soundtrack to the rapidly deteriorating mental health septic tank behind my brown, bespectacled eyes, and it's a mass of murky, foul sludge that I can't keep to myself anymore. I don't really want this to be viewed as a cry for help, but I suppose it's a better cry for help than bloodletting or getting my stomach pumped would be.

I keep getting knocked off the horse, and each fall feels farther and harder than the one before it, but I am going to climb back up on it and begin again. I hope that while its probably impossible and unreasonable to even ask this of anyone who reads this and is remotely invested in me in any level emotionally to not panic or freak out, but please try to remember that getting the confidence and comfort to barf these words onto a page took a lot out of me, and that by doing so, I am trying my best to find a productive and responsible path to being in a better space in my life, physically and mentally. I don't expect every day from here on out to be a good day, or even a mediocre day for that matter, but November 22nd, 2010 marks the end of my self-imposed solitary confinement, and here is me getting you caught up how not good I've been doing and where I am trying to go from here.

I'm sorry if this upset you. It upsets me too.