High Tide

I can't sleep and in the middle of the night I make side a of a mixtape and I think they don't need to be hard. This can be easy. the next day I make the b side. easy. no more then an hour and a half total time within twenty four hours. easy. Its not as good as the last one but ok. I don't usualy name them but this one I do.

Yes! I am a long way from home.
September 2-3, 2009

Side A

Dilaudid - The Mountain Goats
Yes! I am a long way from home - Mogwai
Did You See The Words - Animal Collective
Been A Long Time Cousin - Hella
How It Ends - DeVotchKa
Darts of Pleasure - Franz Ferdinand
Is This It? - The Strokes

Side B

Satellite Skin - Modest Mouse
Kids, We Have Your Back - O! Lucky Man
Keep Yourself Warm - Frightened Rabit
Only Shallow - My Bloody Valentine
Cherry Tulips - Headlights
Crazy/Forever - Japandroids
Metal Heart - Cat Power

this summer, forever

Keep Yourself Warm

Theres a lyric and for the life of me I can't remember what song or what band wrote it and it goes

"once you see the end its all over"




and that is to say i think that the minnute you start worrying about your childhood ending you will never be a kid again and the second a band trys to recapure the sound they used to have they will never have anything again and the second you can see that if you don't do something your group of friend will fall apart its too late already and the moment you can glimps that light at the end you are already in that light and the minnute you notice in a relationship that something has changed you will never again get to the honneymoon once you see the end its all over

the thing is

you see the end from the day after school ends

summer is about comming to terms with this

please I want to come to terms with this

wont find love in a hole

How It Ends

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GOODNIGHT

and you already know

Don't You (Forget About Me)

Me and diana had a conversation about the differences between. depression and melancholy and despair and that place past the blues (here) and how my god we each miss being melancholy. melancholy can be cool and feel conforting and romantic and it can be productive with art even though it tends to take over your life, that is comforting for some fucked up reason. Today I am melancholy for the first time in over a year and a half. I'm ok with this but I still feel... you know.

I fear growing old. I fear growing in general. I fear me in two years being a compleatly different person and looking back on this entry and thinking how fucking stupid I was, just like I do now regarding the me of two years ago. I fear the los capmesions line "resigned that our parent's intrests will one day be our own". I don't want my parent's intrests, I want my life to be shitty forever.

All my life I've wanted to be in love. I wanted to consider myself a hopeless romantic. I wanted to sweep some poor girl off her feet and spend my days agonizing over poems for her because that was the only thing I could do to express how I felt though I would know I could never express it right because I am not a good enough poet. I've never been in love. I've never had my heart broken. Any wounds I have suffered have been more or less superficial. I've never even been close. I don't know if I believe in love. Its the last thing I don't know if I believe in. I am through with internal debates about everything else. I don't believe in anyof it else. I want to believe in love but I don't know. I want to be in love but I am not. I wrote an essay in nineth grade about Holden Caulfield and how and how much he was let down by people, and that his dissatisfaction with the world was not because of something inside him some inner termoil but because of one person after another letting him down. I am really bad at writing essays, I was much worse then, but I knew that point and I didn't think anyone else was feeling it, was pulling for holden. He's alright hes just where he was. They thought he was an asshole, hes not. I still feel that. That let down. He was ok. But I don't think Holden will ever go around falling in love either.

I'm feeling like this and I feel detatched. I don't care. "Richard said withdrawl in disgust is not the same as apathy" He's right. I'm not apathetic, but my detachment now is differnt from my resent situation where I am to angry to care. I'm just... you know

melancholy. I'm so glad to be back here again though. Please stay this way please stay this way please stay this way please stay this way

try to pretend

Paper Planes

Talking to Diana has shown a light on an odd relization about myself: I don't hate the world anymore, and on top of that I don't hate people anymore. And I guess I should say We don't hate the world anymore because it applys to most of my closest friends aswell. We used to talk about it all the time didn't we? we hated people, in some ways that was who I was, that was a part of my self image, my identity. and now its gone, without notice, from me and from you. and I can't be happier. It is, I suppose, because we forgot about it. it sliped our minds. it ran off in the night while we were sleeping. and yet, the world doen't seem an oppressive place anymore, infact the world seems ours for the taking. that it was put here for us. people don't seem the same way, yeah they're there but so what? who cares? how does it concern us? yeah they talk about us and have things to say about us, but lets give them something to fucking talk about. and it feels like freedom.

I have to remmember always that my life is amazing. And my down days are better then the up days of people I know. and if today seems ugly it is only because its held up to the beauty of my life and the beauty of these people I know. And when I get depressed I have to know that this depression is beautiful and singular. and I must remember this because self pitty is disgusting.

But. I am not content, and I don't want to be content. if I am compleatly ok with what I have I will stay with what I have. I don't want a happy life. I don't want a comfortable life or fullfilling life or a rewarding life. I want a Great life. I want a life to be made in to movies, to be writen about in stream of consciousness books. and that Does mean depression and that does mean failure and loanlyness and all sorts of emotions that I could easily avoid if I chose another way. I Rushmore there a line quoted "When one man, for whatever reason, has the opportunity to lead an extraordinary life, he has no right to keep it to himself." and I have this opportunity. I got so fucking lucky somewhere along the way. and I don't intend to waist that.

This mix is the most difficult I have ever made, it took much more time and much more thought then any other tape I have ever created. And it took an entire month from start to finnish. But it is compleated now and it is good. Ment to be everything I used to hate, electronic, dancy, unstructured, new.

Mix 6/20-7/20/2009

Side A

Comfy In Nautica - Panda Bear

American Flag - Cat Power

Tong Track - Menomena

All Mine - Portishead

For Reverend Green - Animal Collective

Young Heart Spark Fire - Japandroids

Abel - The National

Side B

Eraser - No Age

Lunatics - Matt Sheehy

Two Doves - Dirty Projectors

Come Saturday - The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

Oh Messy Life - Cap'n Jazz

Paper Planes - M.I.A.

Elvis - These New Puritans

0078h - M83

Neither of Us, Uncertainly - Deerhunter

swagger like us

Dying For It

I HAVE DESIDED THAT FOR THE NEXT WEEK OR TWO i WILL ONLY BUY OLD SONIC YOUTH ALBUMS.

THEY ARE TOO FUCKING GOOD.

.

i'm hanging on

Young Heart Spark Fire

The thing is... I don't want to talk about music with anyone anymore these days. I've just gotten to the point where I've lost the words to. Yes, it is that important to me and yes, that fact is embarassing but theres nothing I can do about it. I don't feel as though anyone understands, which is not an insult because when I talk about it these days it comes across as if I don't understand so that may be the case with all else aswell. I just don't want to talk about it.

In Daniel Clowes' Ice Heaven there is a scene of a detective talking to a comic book critic. The detective is sceptical of criticism in general, his line of logic going like this: If comic books are indeed an art form then they are trying to express an emotion that cannot be expressed better otherwise, i.e. something that needs the pictures and words to get across and defys words by themselves. How then can you think to explain those using only words? I think its the same with music, if I could explain to you how this music makes me feel then I wouldn't need the music. If I could express it in words then the musical part of it would be unimportant.

I've been thinking about the angst that most people (or most that I know and talk to) experienced in middle school. Almost as soon as its over its viewed in retrospect as imature, self indulgent, ignorant, whiny, ect.. While its going on you look at the older people and think that they don't understand. And now I'm thinking, I don't understand them. They're right about that. And it streches deeper then that. My whole fucking life being a kid I thought adults don't understand our fundemental experience, how we move and view the world, how we think, how we live And I thought, fuck, I am going to hang on to this. I'm not going to forget what it is to be six or eight or ten or thirteen but I have. And I don't understand. And I'm never gonna unerstand. And in four years I'm not going to know what it is to be eighteen and everything now will be immature and self indulgent and I'm never going to understand. Theres a lyric by The Strokes, who have almost embarisingly been one of my most enduring musical obsessions over the last year, that goes See, people they don't understand/No, girlfriends they can't understand/Your grandsons, they won't understand/On top of this I ain't ever gonna understand.

we used to dream, now we worry about dieing