I hate the smell of failure, but it surrounds me currently. I think I ended up wasting my time...again. Why do I bother trying to achieve things, only to fail at them and be ridiculed by the voices in my head? First, I destroyed my Big Muff the other day while I was trying to mod it...What a joke. I spent $60 on parts, 2 nights working on it, go to fire it up and...nothing. The fucking LED works, but no sound when I kick it in. I did lift a couple traces on the transistors, which leads me to believe that might be what's causing my woes. I'm not sure. In any event, it's fucked and I don't know how to fix it. I almost just want to give it to Nick and be like "Here, you have at it". I know he'd be silently judging me for not being smart enough to work it out. I hate being judged. But I do it, too. We all do. Humans are the worst.

So yeah, I interviewed for a supervisor position at my new work, and I can just tell by how people have been reacting to me lately that I failed miserably. I hate knowing this. I hate the feeling of being told I'm not good enough, when I know that I am. This is a feeling that I believe I'm going to experience a whole lot more in this life of mine...Disappointment. I'm stuck where I'm at. I guess I'll just continue bending over and taking life right between the cheeks. It's apparently what I'm meant to do...if you believe in that kind of thing.

I got into another spirited debate with another Christian Apologetic the other day. I remained civil throughout, though I could feel the scathing anger he had towards me, even in the written word. I'll bet it just eats him up inside to think that there are probably millions, maybe even billions of people in the world that don't accept Jeebus as their personal savior. What's even more funny is that he assumed I was an Atheist, but I never once said I was. I don't know what I am. Does it matter? I guess for arguing purposes it does. OK, I guess I'm a non-Christian Theist. I don't accept Christianity exclusively. I am convinced by the reasoning that one or more deities had some part in the creation of our world, possibly even the universe and this dimension. However, I struggle with the idea of a "deity" as that most certainly seems to be a human projection, the idea of one being or individual being above all else. Western civilization, in strong contrast to Eastern philosophies, is built around this idea of the strong individual that conquers all. I would argue that civilization and pre-Biblical society influenced the idea of a singular God. I'm sure Christians would disagree.

Anyway, the debate got really stupid, especially when it was implied that I have to prove God doesn't exist. Really? See, I'm not the one making the assertion here. As Christian, YOU assert that God exists. All I say is I am not convinced by the evidence presented to me to verify that claim. I am not required to offer evidence to you to contradict your evidence, as I am not trying to disprove the existence of God. I am simply saying that I don't buy the evidence for the Christian concept of God- plain and simple. There is nothing that would necessarily lead to a Theistic explanation of the natural world vs. a scientific one, as the Theistic explanation would require having knowledge of a deity, which we can't have unless this being presents itself somehow, or makes it up. Since God himself has never presented himself to us, we cannot reason that God is responsible for these natural occurrences. What's so hard to understand about that?

I have this problem. The texture of foods has really been bothering me lately. Cooked onions in particular have REALLY been grossing me out. I had a sandwich last night that was loaded with onions, and they all made me feel like I was eating worms...Disgusting. A $40 meal soon turned into something I wouldn't feed my dog.

Northless is about the only good thing going for me at this very moment. Our record is finished being recorded, mixed, and mastered. Now we just have to wait for art to be finished, and for everything to be put together. I wanted to have it out by the end of January 2011, but at this rate I'm not sure it's going to happen. We'll see. Playing guitar is still pretty damn sweet, though. I can't wait until we have a bassist up to speed on old material, and we start working on new shit!!!

OK, I'm done for now. Back to reality, I guess.

This is the closest to silence I've heard in a long time in my house...Wife is in bed sleeping. The TV is on, but barely loud enough to hear. The fan inside my computer is just a 1200Hz hum in the background of my consciousness. The loudest thing I hear is my typing on this keyboard.

I think existence is built mostly on silence. Most people long for the moments between silence, where things are happening. I mostly long for the silence, and the ability to sit alone with my thoughts.

Before man existed, before life as we know it was an idea, there was silence. And after everything in this world is gone, there will be true silence once again.

I think only sleep brings me real silence, occasionally stirred by dreams and nightmares. I wonder if the Great Sleep will bring eternal silence?

Vacation this week...my first one in quite some time. I guess I was technically on vacation back in April when Northless went on tour, but I was mostly just on tour then. This time, I have absolutely nothing planned. Unfortunately, I am utterly broke which means I probably won't be doing a whole lot of anything. I did re-arrange my pedalboard for the 4th or 5th time in as many months. I'm close...real close. I think I can finally nail every tone I need to with what I have. I'd love to have a pedal that does infinite reverb. Maybe someday I can afford one of those Dr. Scientist Reverberators? Not likely, but a man can dream.

Northless plays with Jucifer on Thursday. It's going to be bittersweet. On the one hand, it'll be awesome to play with Jucifer and hopefully gain some new fans in the process. On the other, it's probably going to be our last show for a while, until we get a bassist up to speed. Still no word on who is going to fill the void...A couple ideas, but nothing concrete. Then again, I haven't been trying as hard as I could. I'm trying to focus on one aspect of the band at a time, and right now my focus is finishing the record and getting a mix ready for Cory and Adam, as well as finishing art. But yeah, in the meantime, I should be thinking more about bassists. I just haven't yet. As much as I hate this line of thinking, I do believe that things will fall into place when they're ready to. One thing's for sure, this band isn't going to dissolve like all of my others. I will keep doing it until I can't anymore. It'll probably end up being just me someday, once my bandmates tire of my scatterbrained, belligerent way of explaining the sounds I hear in my head...plus, let's face it, I can be kind of a control freak asshole sometimes. But, I mean well. And in the end, we create some killer fucking music, or at least I like it...

I think I'm finally getting pretty good at soldering. I've been working on a shitload of pedals lately. I REALLY need to get a decent sounding practice amp, and a video camera of some sort, so I can demo some of the things I've done. I just worked on an Ibanez TS5 Tube Screamer that I am very proud of. I took a shitty sounding $24 overdrive pedal, and turned into quite possibly the best overdrive I've ever played...it's up there, anyway. Moreover, I could really stand to SELL some of the pedals I have around. I just don't want to get ripped off on Craigslist. Truth be told, I do mods for dirt cheap...$25 for dirt boxes, $35 if I'm adding switches or working on more complicated pedals, and $50 if I'm doing something really tricky/time consuming, like working on those Line 6 modeling pedals or doing a difficult repair. I think word is finally starting to get out there, but I really need to push the issue more. Once I get some regular customers, I'll probably raise my prices in 6 months to a year. Maybe then I can make some real cash and sometime, start building my own effects...

...which begs the question: what the shit do I want to build?

I actually think I'd like to design a dirt box that has three footswitches on it: one for overdrive, one for distortion, and one for fuzz. It would essentially be three facets of the same tone, maybe with a blend knob for those who are really picky. I'd like to incorporate a good EQ section as well. I think a pedal like that would be awesome for those who want 3 channels of dirt without having three boxes...I already have some ideas on where I want to go with that, but we'll see what happens.

Fuck, I feel like garbage...not sure if I ate too much, not enough, or just the wrong shit. I did have a frozen Orv's pizza earlier...pretty meh if you ask me. Oh, and some Oreos, too. Yeah, that answers my question: eating the wrong shit. Then again, what else is new? I'm fucking made of bad eating habits. My ever inflating waistline is proof positive of that...

Well, I think that's enough self loathing for now. I'm ready to enjoy some vacation, or at least try to. Hopefully my co-workers don't decide to hire someone else while I'm out...that would be just my luck...Fuck it. At this point, I'd probably tell UWM to shove it up their ass. I'm so sick of being their bitch anyway. September 1st, 2011 cannot come fast enough...not because I'm itching to leave my job, but just because then that feeling of owing someone something will hopefully be lifted from my shoulders...we'll see.

Failure

I hate being a failure, but I really am. I'm nearly 30 years old, and I really have nothing worthwhile to show for those years on this planet. Sure, I fill my time with mundane shit like music and electronics...big deal. What really gets to me is how much fucking money and time I've put into school, and how little I've gotten back from the experience. I fucked up big time and got possibly one of the top 10 lowest paying, most worthless degrees on this planet: a Master's in Social Work. Want to know something fucked up? I make less now than I did before I got the MSW...seriously. How does that work, you ask? Well, let me lay it out for you: once you go to school and get that fancy degree, the assumption is that you can handle more responsibilities at work (i.e. more cases and clients), and you can handle a degree of people that people with mere BSW's cannot. Unfortunately, that is not necessarily true. While an MSW does give you more knowledge about the social work field, it does not make you any more prepared to deal with a 9 year old kid who tries to kill themselves in front of you, and then proceeds to try and kill you instead...or with a 16 year old kid who is almost as strong as you are trying to jump out of your car, while you're doing 65 mph on the freeway...or a 39 year old gang member leaving you messages, reciting your unlisted home address over and over. A degree cannot help one work through those things...

And yet, I must be one of the few that understands this concept, because that's exactly the shit I've had to put up with through the years. I had plenty of shit happen to me before I got the fancy degree, even some of the things I just mentioned. I became pretty damn good at my job through the years- honestly, better than most. So, after working for 6 years for the same agency, being carted around 5 times due to internal restructuring, after training dozens of workers, after putting up with all the political bullshit, I was repaid with...nothing. Not one fucking thing. I tried to better myself and apply for a better job...nothing but rejection there. And then they give the job to some fuck that hasn't worked in the field for years, and was either fired or asked to leave his old position in social work at a similar agency, under the umbrella of our current agency. What's worse is that from all accounts, the motherfucker is completely incompetent.

So, I left the job. Was it a mistake? Maybe. They asked me to stay, sort of. All they offered me was a "maybe" that I'd get a raise or promotion or reduction in caseload. I explained several times that my life doesn't revolve around maybes, that I wanted something concrete before turning down something that was way easier and way less stressful. The response? Nothing. Nada. I was left to leave. I got fed a nice, shit-caked line about how valuable I was to their agency, and how in a few months I would regret the decision I've made. Wow, so I was made to feel guilty, eh? Incredible. I love it. Please sign me up for more bullshit.

So, I got a new job. My new job is 100x easier, and for the most part I enjoy it more...there are some people I work with that I don't particularly enjoy, but as with any large group of people, you're not gonna be friends or even friendly with everyone....or even anyone, necessarily. The most glaring problem I see is that I took a pretty significant pay cut, and am pretty fucking broke much of the time now. I keep borrowing from my credit cards every month, and just sink deeper into debt. Sooner or later, things will catch up and I'll be all kinds of fucked. I'm not even sure what to do at this point. Get a second job? I guess that's really it. Cut spending somewhere? I suppose so.

What really gets me is this: all the people I went to school with are now successful. Most of them have moved onto management positions or better jobs with better pay. Some of them have even returned to school to better themselves yet again. And here I am...broke. No future. A wife that hates me and that I neglect, in order to play music in a band that so far has gone through a fucking lineup change every single year since its inception, and is going through yet another one right now. Overweight, high blood pressure, all sorts of burgeoning health problems. Dogs with emotional problems. 2 piece of shit cars that barely run, and I of course can't afford new ones. Not a goddamn red cent saved up. Crippling financial debt. No family that is able or willing to help out. Hated by most people for reasons that I don't even understand...publicly ridiculed and persecuted for no known reason(s)...

I don't know anymore. I keep asking myself why I allow myself to be put through all of this bullshit. I've said it out loud, and I'll say it again: I DIDN'T ASK TO BE BORN...and if I did, I don't remember doing it, and I recant the request. I don't want to fucking live anymore. I see no reason to. I'm not going to kill myself, I'm too much of a coward. I want whatever the fuck created me, or led to my existence, to take me out of this fucking world. You started this, now fucking end it already. I have no reason to exist. I don't like existence. I'm not happy. I can't remember the last time I've been happy. Is this what you want? To torture someone? Is this for your sick pleasure? You win. I hate everything more everyday. I'm running out of reasons to get out of bed in the morning, I really am. Why am I made to feel things? I don't want to. I just want to stop feeling everything. Let me die before I fuck things up for my wife, or my friends and family...they don't deserve it, but apparently I do. If you want to torture me, fine- but you leave them the fuck out of it.

I'm beside myself with anger, hurt, frustration. I don't know how anything else feels anymore. I just want to be away from everyone for as long as possible. Someday I'm either not going to exist, or I'm going to leave society. I can't stay here anymore. I want to be destroyed quickly, not fade away slowly.

Fuck

I don't exist for anyone's amusement, except maybe God...if there is a God. If there is a God, I wonder if he punishes us because we're not amusing him. Maybe that's why "idle hands are the devil's tools", because once you stop amusing God, he/she/it sends gives you to the devil. He's done with you at that point, after all. I don't fucking know.

I feel myself getting older. I can feel my skin softening, and my insides rotting slowly. I've existed on this planet for nearly 11,000 days and I still haven't figured out why I exist...assuming Descartes was correct and that thought = existence. I still haven't been convinced that this isn't some kind of Solipsistic nightmare...does it really matter anyway? I have no real freedom. I was created, directly or indirectly, and unless I kill myself, death owns me as I have no control over when I will leave this planet.

With that said, does anything matter?

Implode and disappear

Seriously, I'm still fucking here. I've never left. I've been here for over a decade now, in the place where I am mentally. The others that I thought I shared this space with all left and moved on. Some regressed, others made something different. But the thing that unifies them is that they lost their fucking passion for it...It's entirely possible that they never had passion to begin with. Why is life such a fucking joke to some people? Other people matter, but not for the reasons you think they do. Your reality is fucking pathetic. I watched you crawl away, and at first I was afraid to be alone. But here I am, still here...I'm not really alone, but I am the wolf you should fear, because when you think you're safe and forget what you pretended to be, there I'll be.

Fairweather bullshit means nothing to me. You're either in it, or you're not. I create as much as I destroy, but you people don't create a fucking thing. WHAT A WASTE. I haven't seen some of your faces since 2002...is it out of fashion to feel something for others' creations? Or was your involvement based on nepotism and status? Are drugs more your speed? You make me sick.

I did not and will not dig the holes, but I will gladly push you in them. And when you ask why, maybe I'll throw something you used to claim to enjoy on the CD player, so you can hear it one last time before you die.

I'm still here. I've always been here. Never fucking forget that.

Hated

Being hated is a funny thing. When I was younger, it seemed simpler in that I could identify the reasons I was hated. I was fat. I was ugly. I smelled bad. I had sideburns in 6th grade, and was different from everyone else. Maybe I'd occasionally say or do something shitty, like all kids do. Some people would move on and forgive, but yet other kids did not. I could easily zone in on the reason I was so disliked as a child.

Flash forward to now. I am still hated. Despised, even. I walk among the sheep at large, as a lone wolf. Some of them know what I am and rightly fear me. Others underestimate me, or share my sentiment and leave me be. Every once in a while, I face opposition. I deal with that accordingly, to the best of my ability. What's different is that now, the reasons why I am hated seem more ambiguous.

I am what the controllers of the morals refer to as a "good" person. I am a child welfare social worker. I help people, or at least try to. I pay my bills. I keep my cross words about others at a minimum, and seek to resolve conflict as peacefully as possible. I am friendly and even kind to most when I am inclined towards that disposition. And yet, despite all that, I am still hated...loathed, even, by so many. Truthfully, much of the time I do not get why. I am pretty introspective. I look at each and every one of my actions, and try to understand how those actions will affect others. I am altruistic, even though many times I do not want to be. And yet, I am entangled in an endless web of hatred. It's me against the world.

I was reminded of this today, as I was perusing my Facebook page. One of my elementary school teachers is on there, and is friends with damn near every other kid that went to my grade school. And yet, I remembered adding him twice, and even sending him a message, and of course he didn't add me. Why? I know he remembers me. I was that kid on the football team that had no heart and no skill, that did it only as a favor to the school. I was the kid that laughed super hard at all his jokes. And yet, there is hate. He is even friends with the douchebag that threatened to beat his ass, in fucking 7th grade no less. And for me...hate.

My former best friend of 11 years, the kid who I grew up with, who was the only friend I had for years and still was my best friend after all that...hates me. Despite repeated apologies, despite repeated attempts to make things right and prove to him that I am not the careless, selfish child I was when I was fucking 19...nothing. Only hate remains for me.

I don't want to live among this society any longer. I've said for years that I only exist here because I've created entanglements and complicated relationships here, mostly to the benefit of others. I don't want to live here anymore. I want to be in the mountains, in solitude, with my animals- the only ones that don't judge me and love me unconditionally. They are the only creatures that do this. Humans don't understand love. Our connection to it is fading more every day. I'm not sure I know what love is. Have I ever truly loved, or have I just clung to the one who would cling me back, if only for a while? If I have loved, then my wife is the only person I have ever loved intimately. I love my parents, and my sisters- my family. My blood is sacred to me. Despite that, I would rather exist away from this society, this world that exists only to hurt and cause fear, frustration, uncertainty, confusion...This is not how man should be.

I wonder how many others fall through the cracks like me. I wonder if the world is all just a big batch of takers. I guess I need only to look around and see others that care like I do. My job proves I'm not alone entirely, even though it seems like it. But that's just it- why does it have to seem like it? And why do I have to be hated for caring? I give a shit about people. I don't like many of them, but somewhere deep down I believe they have the same fears, frustrations, uncertainty, and confusion that I do. This is our common bond. All I want to do is work together with them to figure out how to eradicate or at least minimalize those things. But, there is mostly rejection, or superficial acceptance.

Are we really fucking doomed? Are these the end times? Is our society really on the verge of implosion? I don't care what anyone thinks: I want us to be destroyed. I think humans have caused enough problems for this world. I don't think we should exist anymore, and if 2012 is really some great cataclysm, then so be it. I'll wait with open arms as this shitty rock sinks into itself, and will swim across the divide to whatever end I face. I'm ready for it. Take me.

Shadows cast on days

This week has been utter fucking anger, misery, and worry for me. A lot of shit has happened, but I don't even know where to begin. Some good shit has happened, sure. I think if I ever go one week without something I can call "positive" or at least "not damaging" happening to or because of me, I will take that as a cue to blow my head off.

But anyway, aside from some other shit, the worst part of this week was learning that John Grant is quitting Northless. It's not until February 2011 supposedly, but the bottom line is that we need to find a new bass player. That sucks, a lot. Grant is a really good guy, and one of the coolest musicians I've had an opportunity to play with in a band. I mean, we're pretty different people or whatever, but he's creative and has a good heart, and can play. Those are pretty much the only three things I ask out of people I play with. Unfortunately, anyone who is in a band knows that these kind of people are rare. Now I'm worried about what I'm left with. Who the hell am I going to get to play in my band?

I know this is some "first world problems" kind of bullshit. I get that. I have a roof over my head, all the toys and food I could ever want, a wife that loves me, dogs that love me, people that care about me...all of this is what matters at the end of the day. But truth be told, Northless is definitely the thing that fills a part of my being that nothing else ever has or probably could. It is by far the best music I have ever written, the best band I've ever been in, and honestly is a direct extension of my musical essence. I can't fathom being in another band, and truth be told, the secret is that I won't be. I already made a specific pact with myself that I would do Northless until I literally can't anymore. Even if it only ends up being me, making records on my own in solitude and maybe never playing live again, then this is what I would do. I am lucky as all fuck to have Nick and John still in the band, and no doubt I would be up shit's creek even more if they weren't around. But nevertheless, filling that void that Grant is leaving will not be easy.

My bandmates tell me I should stop "freaking out", so I will try. The good news is at the end of the day, despite the awful physical (and to some extent mental) condition that I am in, I know that if it came down to it, I could perform an entire Northless record myself from top to bottom. This is the furthest possible thing from what I actually want (I HATE playing drums, at least for the last 3-4 months...years of playing shittily in a grind band cemented my disdain for playing the instrument), but I could do it if I had to. What it comes down to is, I will always need this release. I will always need this outlet. I would prefer to play with others and share it for those who might be able to identify with my art, but if that's not how things go, then so be it.

On that note, I've been playing guitar a ton more lately. I haven't really worked on any Northless stuff. We just finished recording 60 minutes of music, so I'm kind of spent at this moment. I also am not sure which direction I want to take the band in...whatever I do it will still be the heaviest thing I can excise from this body, but I'm trying to plan out how exactly to achieve this end. This record we're about to release I think is our "Master of Puppets". It's something we worked super hard on, and is just us at our purest. To make another one exactly like it would probably cheapen the experience...and I don't want to do that. So, the obvious conclusion is that we must evolve. Thankfully, I seem to be doing that anyway, slowly but surely. I think the next Northless music will be something really fucked up but in an honest way. That's what I want. But, make no mistake: it will be heavy. I would have it no other way.

Anyway, guitar. I've been modding a lot of pedals lately, so I find myself playing the guitar nearly every day for like 30 minutes. My chops are even coming back, slowly. I'm gonna start actually practicing again. I lost a little speed through the years, but my dexterity is as good as ever, perhaps better. I could also stand for some more endurance and stamina in my hands, but that will simply come with time. I would really like to work on being able to shred a bit. I can play solos now, but they just sound like the C- shit that most blues-influenced metal douchewads bust out at Guitar Center. I have no interest in playing some fucking hard blues shit. I want to be less Dave Mustaine, and more Marty Friedman. This will take time. But, after playing guitar for close to 18 years, I think it's time to shit or get off the pot.

I suppose this blog is rapidly becoming a rip off of Scott Kelly's blog. But then again, Northless is really just a Neurosis rip off, right? I dunno. The music blogs and magazines that have reviewed us seem to think so. I don't ultimately care. I'd rather be compared to a good band than do something "original" that sucks, like so many bands that are out now not worth mentioning. All I do is play what I like and if we are truly the sum of our influences, then I can see why the comparison is made. So be it. I am who I am.

The sound of racecars in the distance is slowly driving me insane...time to get the hell out of here!

Scum

So, it turns out that I've made a new enemy, somehow. The other day, I went outside to get in my car, and all of my garbage was strewn about in the front seat of my car. Then, last night my wife looks outside and the dome light in my car is on (I never leave this light on). Normally, I don't lock my piece of shit car, because I see no reason to considering it's 13 years old and has 192,000 miles on it. But I must say, being fucked with makes me furious beyond words.

I just don't get it. I am honestly one of the nicest dudes on this planet. I am kind to everyone. I turn the other cheek at almost every turn, because I hate conflict. I know what I am capable of, and I know that if I were to unleash what I have inside at any given moment that I would lose everything. I have so many enemies, though, from doing the "right" thing. I couldn't even name them all off. I guess going against the grain and making the tough choices really screws over those people that make bad ones, or maybe they're just pissed at the successes I've made...

In the end, I don't care about the rationale behind any trespass against me. I just want revenge. Once I become bitten by the bug, I can't let it go. I honestly feel sorry for the next person that crosses me. I am ready to kill at this point, and there's not a person alive that can stop me. I won't be defeated. You can lock me up, but you'll just create a bigger monster. What people don't get is, you can hurt me today, but it doesn't end there. I'll kill your entire fucking family. I will cut your fucking first born's head off and rape your fucking wife right in front of you...and then when you think it's over, I'll cut your balls off and feed them to you. And then when you beg for me to kill you, the real pain will begin. Someone who "knows" me is reading this and thinking "no way, Erik is not capable of such butchery". Oh really? I dare you. I fucking dare you.

I just read about an armed robbery on the south side last night...Three robbers wearing shitty Halloween masks broke into a church BINGO HALL and robbed the patrons there...I can't tell you how pissed this makes me. What kind of FUCKING SCUM would do such a thing to what likely amounts to SENIOR CITIZENS? These people will never feel safe where they are, and these little punk bitches will strike again.

This city is becoming a complete hive of scum and villainy. I can't understand why people are so against vigilantism. I'll tell you what, if it were me, 100 against three with only one handgun...if I could carry a piece in there, it would've went like this: robber with the gun walks in. I reach for my piece...BLAM, he's dead. His two compatriots stand there with pee running down their legs wondering who had the nerve to stand up to them. Then, the gun is pointed at them. "OK, you have exactly two choices: drop your weapons, turn around, and take your pussy asses out of here...or, get on your knees and eat lead. You have three seconds to decide." Any guff from that point on would be met with the business end of my revolver.

Could it go another way? Sure. But someone needs to send a message to these motherfuckers...this city is overrun with gangs and thugs and drugs and prostitutes...it's sickening. It's all one big criminal enterprise. They don't fear the police. Why should they? The criminal justice system is set up to "understand" criminals. I don't care to understand. Anyone who would pull a gun on someone just to get what probably amounted to $50 does not value human life, and should not be allowed to walk freely and risk harming someone that doesn't deserve it. They should be eradicated. If we started publicly executing some of these fucks, and made concealed carry legal, I guarantee you that the crime rate would plummet. I don't care if you think it's barbaric. People have no fucking accountability anymore, because there are no consequences. Jail isn't shit, it's just a vacation for criminals...they can go hang out with their kind there and think up new ways to hurt the rest of us. Your society has created a haven for these people, and you wonder why they don't fear or respect you. Unbelievable.

This is in part why I had to leave my old job...getting threatened on a daily basis by pedophiles, wife beaters, thugs, drug addicts...people with NO BUSINESS saying anything cross to me...and being unable to respond or do anything about it except feed some hippie Liberal bullshit at them...it's too much. I dealt with it before with one man, who I will someday see dead, and that was too much. I've had to deal with those scum on a daily basis, and it was becoming too hard to keep it in. I almost blew everything back in August 2007, during a meeting with that scumbag...it took every ounce of me not to break his fucking neck right there. At least where I'm at now, I can tune all that out...All these feelings lay waiting inside me. Someday they'll be unleashed, and it won't be pretty. Those who deserve to be spared, will be. Those who do not will meet the most gruesome end that I can deliver.

OK...I need to take a step back and breathe for a sec...I think it's time to drown my rage in some electronics. Later.

Radio Shack

Who knew Radio Shack had such cool stuff? I was led to believe that they completely stopped carrying electronics stuff like caps, resistors, soldering irons, etc. I went in today just to see for myself, and it turns out that I was totally misled...Not only did they have a huge selection of shit, it was mostly at reasonable prices (though the soldering irons were pretty steep...except that the manager incorrectly rang my $20 iron up at $6...SCORE!!!). They also have tons of resistors, mostly carbon film which will be good in a pinch. I think they're rated at 50V, too...so sick. So yeah, Radio Shack: you have gained a fan. I'll still mostly buy shit from Small Bear and Digikey and Mouser, but if I ever need something in a pinch, it's nice to know they're there.

Speaking of electronics, I modded my first two pedals the other night: Boss DS-1 and a Boss CS-2 Compressor that I got for fucking $30! The DS-1 turned out great. I did some stupid stuff to it, but I ended up fixing it...at least for now. It sounds so much fucking better, the LED is a super bright white one...looks sick. The CS-2 I swapped out some stuff to allow more high end through, changed a couple resistors to make it quieter, and made the LED orange. Looks fucking badass to me.

Oh damnit...I just realized as I was typing this that I totally forgot to bid on some color-changing LED's...Turns out I would've had them for $5 with shipping. I fucking hate my ADD sometimes.

I almost got into a full-blown theological debate with an old acquaintance of mine. I called him out for constantly talking like Christianity is this fact-based, scientific discipline that we should all follow or we won't be "saved", whatever that means and for whatever that's worth. He pulled out all the typical shit I expected he would, but rather than debate the guy, I let it go. I said my piece, made a point, and moved on. There's no reasoning with true believers. No matter how many times I explain that until I see absolute proof of God, that I will not believe in Christianity (I feel the same way about other religions and their deity/ies, including Paganism, the worship of nature as a deity). I just think religious zealots are so fucking arrogant, like they know something I don't. I don't doubt the possibility of the existence of a deity, nor do I blindly accept science. I don't adhere to one idealogy. I judge each situation on its own and make my own conclusions from there. Anyone who does otherwise leaves themselves open to trouble.

Anyway, that's about what I've got for now. I have a feeling I'll be talking a lot this week. Northless' new record is almost done being mixed, so I'm sure that and other shit I do will be topics of discussion.

Oh yeah, and "The Expendables" opens this Friday. I am so excited that my dick is hard in anticipation.

Return

It looks like after years of silence, I have made my triumphant return to the world of the blogosphere. I used to have an account over at LiveJournal...Well, I still do actually. I just never use it. I can't bring myself to delete it, because there is a shitload of stuff over there that I wrote about over the course of years that I like to read from time to time. I'm a sucker for/slave to nostalgia.

So why return now? I'm not sure, really. I've been feeling this burning urge inside me to share things about myself with the world. I think I am slowly realizing my own mortality, which will someday be fully realized when I actually die. I am more aware with each passing day of my own mortality. In the event that I die before those around me who might care about me (a strong likelihood), I will leave this and my other account as a memorial to who I was. If anyone ever wants to understand me, to understand how I really fucking tick, this will be the way.

I can't know people. I don't really know anyone, not even myself. I spent years retreating into myself, and I'm not even sure I like me. I feel like I am a prisoner in my own body, hiding behind a thin veil of fallacies as I watch the world around me writhe out of control. There are times where I wish I could press the fast-forward button and watch time go by. I would laugh as my enemies decay, cry as my loved ones disappear, and rejoice as this entire society crumbles as the new powers-that-be take hold.

Time is all I think about lately...it consumes me. The other day I had an important realization, that in 100 years, no one that I know now will exist. Everyone and probably everything I know will be gone. No one will remember me: who I was, what I did, nothing. Don't get me wrong, I don't care about posthumous notoriety or something fucking lame like that. The relevance of this realization is that ultimately, nothing I fucking do matters because it's all ineffectual. Maybe if I were a mass murderer, or did something incredible people would write about me...but I won't, and they won't. This is most people's existence.

So, then the obvious question: why do we exist? Why do I have this cognition? Why must I carry the pain of being? Is it only to serve those who serve a purpose? And, who dictates who does or does not serve a purpose? Simple physics: an action leads to an equal and opposite reaction. The world has almost 7 billion inhabitants. If someone on the other side of the world does something insignificant, does it affect someone else over here? If we're all interconnected, maybe that is our only reason for existing, to be the supporting cast of a cosmic, epic production.

If there is a God, and if that being created the universe, are all just acting for that being's interests? Has no one considered that our existence may not be some altruistic advance by some creator, to help us carve a place out for our souls. Maybe this God is just watching us, occasionally garnering amusement as every little achievement we make crumbles away. Maybe this God just likes watching us cycle and die every 100 years or so, because then the new season starts and a whole new batch of problems come to light.

I don't fucking know. People thumping Bibles and Korans and Torahs don't fucking know. No one does. We all have ideas, but they're probably all wrong. The bottom line is, we have no fucking answers that are indisputable, and I for one am fucking pissed about it. I have carved a place for myself in this universe, but who said that I should exist? Did I consent to my existence? If so, why don't I remember it? Why was I born into this world? And the big fuck-all, why have I been made to suffer existentially for nearly 30 years? Whose ends am I serving?

I don't want to play this game anymore. I don't want to exist simply because someone or something says I have to. And, if I don't exist for that reason, then why? If there is/are no creator(s), then how are we here? If there is a creator, it makes slightly more sense, and I can see why people cling to this idea: because nihilism and utter fucking isolation is pretty fucking scary. But, it's real...to me. I would rather be real than follow the flock like some coward that never bothers to think. That's all religion is, a method to control the cowards that don't want to think. Those who control the religion don't want people to think, they just want them to follow, because control is everything in this world. Without control, you are a slave. Slavery is the worst way to eke out this existence, because then even your illusion of free will is gone.

It just hit me: Solipsism doesn't make sense if you're a slave. If the outside world is something that I imagine, then all my sensory experiences are controlled by me. If my sensory experiences are controlled by me, then why would I opt to allow others to harm me or force my hand? I wouldn't...but maybe others do because their will isn't right. They won't bite the hands that feed...but I will. Maybe that's why I am where I am, and a slave is where they are. So where does will come from? What drives us? It's all relative to something...but something ignited that spark that powers us to this day.

I don't fucking know, but if this universe was created by something, I want that something to know that this existence is flawed and that I never asked for it.

With all that said, I've got a pretty good life, assuming I am alive. I have good people, good things, good work, a brain that allows me to do things...but I still want answers.

That's it for now. Time to go spend money I don't have on things I don't need.