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Thursday, August 1, 2013

Parasite Girls, Time the Healer, Sylvia Plath...and the Point of it All...

I am not ashamed to tell you that right now I am in a holding pattern, partly of my own doing. One of the unfortunate results of that is finding myself stuck, and l fear leaving others in the lurch. It's not something I am happy about.

Without ever saying it, my late father by example did his best to keep his word on things. We all learned that, and for that reason I sometimes find it very hard to promise things to others. Because I have no idea in about 50% of the cases whether or not I can actually follow through.

It's easy in some ways--people need me to cover the, I'm there. That's because I need the money, but also because I do actually enjoy the dying industry I live in.

That plus a series of incidents and issues has led me to once again find myself on the edge of a pit that I do not wish to fall into again. It's pretty bad when you don't sleep properly (the worst thing for whatever my brand of depression is!), and then awaken to find it's fucking 12 Noon.

Lovely. So much to do, no time to do it in. And yet that may well also be an illusion I've allowed to manifest.

So, where are we? August 1st, and I wish to know where I am, still. I've had a few friends ask me about my work, and what's going on there. Well, suffice to say I've been cruising through cyberspace for the past 12+ months on the job hunt, and yes, also looking outside the broadcast realms. Couple of interesting interviews did take place, so I am encouraged.

Of course, it means...moving. The days of being able to drive to my job are no longer, and that means for me pulling up stakes. I am aware this is something I will have to do; there is nothing left for me to do in Pennsylvania, and I think a change of scenery is what I need. I need it, badly.

I feel sorry that I have not been able to commit to things, musically. That leaves one person hanging, but thankfully he's using his mad skills with another project, and I hope for their success. Add to that: here in York, I give respect and props to friends who have produced really awesome music. Their talent goes way beyond anything I have to offer in that line. My job as a DJ is to help them get some kind of attention, which is well deserved.

That has been my role. To push, promote, and let others know who's really out there. I guess I tried to push myself into that hole and I think I'm alright, but not what works. Not now.

Let me get to the next one here...w/o internet service at my house, I've had more hours to read, edit and do stuff in a comparative silence. I have to admit, I like that. What it has done is allow me to examine things a little more closely, than I normally would do.

The net is our TV, isn't it? We watch it, read from it, and get all obsessed over what's on it. I'm not going to go on a rant about how awful it is, because that is pointless. Nothing is ever good enough for some people, and nothing will ever fit their pigeonholed respectability whateveritis. Do what you gotta, folks.

Sylvia Plath's unabridged journals are a very slow, heavy read. I'm basically reading her diaries. And again, these have to be taken in a very small bit at a time. Her word use, big words, some kind of education none of us could possibly get today...let those elitist little "exceptional" brats (and especially their voyeuristic parents) have a go at THIS!

What I get out of it, though is that Plath suffered from the same issues a lot of us do. She suffered losses, went through all the turmoil any human being did, but felt it so much more intensely. She was human; you see her struggling in the pages with her family, the need to be wanted by another, but also the need to be who she had to be. Sylvia vacillates on her writing, ignores it, comes up with ideas for stories with impossible names for characters, but you wonder where they all went.

She was ahead of her time, in terms of her feminist views, but these were not fully formed, I don't think. She left behind an awful lot for us to consider, though, about ourselves.

So where does that leave me? Well...as I've shamelessly plugged you can find me on Behance.net, and the rough opening of "Parasite Girls" is there. That will come out later this summer, and I do hope very much to see some cover ideas from my artist friend.

I'm already trying to consider the follow-up. I don't know if I should do this, but with down time and "stasis," the word Sylvia uses a lot, I have to do something.

I look back at a lot of my writings from years past--all just waiting to break out, and I realize my style changed. What I have is still good, but not good enough. Nowhere near. I must go back to that. I must bash at it yet again.

So in the meantime, what have I got?

I think "Time the Healer" might be the followup. The rough opening is also on the Behance site. It's longer, but in ebook form it'll not be so bad. I think I can have it ready for 2014. My goal is now to publish one every six months, while still trying to find some method of getting into a real book form.

The cost is not going to be prohibitive, and hardly do I expect my friends to buy everything I write, of course not. But it's got to get out there, and the window is closing.

"Time" also is rather timely...it deals a lot with bullying, and the violence that surrounds it...also what happens when people stick their heads in the sand and pretend it doesn't happen. Not all of this is personal, but enough is and what I have done with it makes it compelling enough for others to wake the fuck up.

The main character is remaking herself (aren't we always doing that?)...without ever seeing the video until today, I now realize what is fitting about this:


"Point of it All" is from the solo album, "Who Killed Amanda Palmer?" I was listening to this recording and others of hers as I put the story together. 

This is where we are. 

I woke up late, and with a mind to go do something I should be doing today, and the feeling of no drive, no energy and no will is horrid to me. Being lazy is not something I enjoy--it comes from years of being told not to be lazy, to be active, to work, and work, and work the fuck some more.

I do not know what it is like to be lazy, even when forced to it. Yet, some must think I am, because they see me sitting in the "Office," banging away on my laptop or staring at it.

My surgery of one month ago does have a hand in this, but I am improving, so you'd think I would feel better about it. I do, but I am finding this world around me a crushing one, that I have to fight off, as I do ongoing depression.

That video above? I've heard and played that song fuck knows how many times. I love it; it's well-written, the piano and the way it was recorded (not sure how from listening to it) and what little instrumentation around that just fits. The video did not depress me, but you feel something, don't you? 

Ain't that some shit?

Resignation as well...what I hope everything to be will NEVER be. I am starting to realize that what I hoped for is not something I think I want, anyway. Because what I wanted will transform out of my hands and into something that it's not. Or...is it because I wish to control it, that I won't let it grow?

Oh. Now that is tough one, isn't it? Perhaps I should let it go, as I have had to go many things, my land up home, my last connections to certain places, and to again look down the open road and see what's there.

And yet I must wait. Wait for things to change, on their own time, but wonder also if I have time, enough for it. Perhaps it is to take these matters more securely in my own hands and say, "Fuck it! I will go NOW!"

Not instant gratification, mind; more just a matter of putting things into action and saying, "Alright, now it's moving--let's see where it goes."

Depression. It is not fun. I do not, as another has said, wish this on even the person who hates me most, if anyone actually does. 

For those who are starting to wonder, believe me I am not considering any kind of drastic measures. I have no interest in creating that kind of mess, because I have learned that to stay is to keep fighting all of it, and to eventually win, because you are still here and you didn't ring the curtain down prematurely.

An old friend very bluntly stated that she didn't think much of those who offed themselves, because they gave up. Well...there are some who would take that way out rather than face the reality of what was before them, true.

Not everyone though--for some cultures, there's still the matter of honor and pride. I understand it, but I don't. We can't fully understand a place we've never been, and never grown up and lived in, can we? But we think we do.

It's noted in "Parasite Girls," that suicide is at times a dark place where if you fall into it...(I'm leaving it blank, you decide for now)...

So what is "the Point of it All?" I don't know. I have a bad habit of using other people's lyrics and songs for inspiration because I don't feel most of what I have written in that line really works. They just don't fit, and I don't find my own lyrics and songs to be that inspirational. They do work in certain ways, but not always.

Just one more step of development I guess.

I'll try a little harder today, to get moving. Sorry if this is a rambling mass of whatever...but this is what you get. You get one draft in my blog, that's all!

"I write reams of this shit every day, haha!" -- John Cale loops that in one of his songs, I love it.

Peace, Out.