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

All Mine

Parker asked me if I had self loathing issues. Fuck. I said I didn't. And I said I didn't because generaly I don't. There was a good amount of time in my life that I had those issues a lot but with a few exceptions (hello febuary) that time has passed. I like who I am these days. I am ok with myself. I am who I want to be, well close to it at least. Making progress. Every couple months I look back, esspecialy using old blog posts, and think of how much of an ideot I was and everytime I do that I feel good because it means I've grone since then. And this is ok.

BUT

for the last four or five days I have hated myself. Because I am an asshole when I am with people. And its through making the joking remarks I always make and laughing about them but somehow without me noticeing they have become asshole remarks. These are because I do resent most of my friends and all of my family and this shity house and I do want to go back to new york. And this resentment makes me into an asshole. And worse then that for the last four days I know I am being an asshole wile it is going on but I don't stop and its killing me. I didn't mean for this to happen. And I don't see the solution right now but I do hate myself for it.

just know that I am trying.

you have to be

Two Weeks

I guess if the question is how long I can stand my friends and family in a straight line before the novelty wares off then the answer is one week. I'm trying to remember what I saw in these guys.

Perhaps I'm being harsh, I had a bad day. A bad day. I know that leaving for new york is and was just running away to try to escape my problems instead of facing them, but goddamn, it worked. and I think scraping these problems and these people was the only way for me to move forward. Right now I'm just holding on where I am for three people.

just like yesterday

Helpless

Someone asked me today if I still missed my father. I thought I should get down here my thoughts about that because as per my memory I have never discused my feelings there of with any of my current friends. And, hell, though I'm pretty sure all my friends know now for a long time a good deal of them didn't even know what had happoned to him, leading some of them to ask me about it as if it was some great secret that I might not tell them. Its not a secret. I just honestly don't think about it that much and even when I do its not a topic that comes along in coversation. But lets see if I can get this all out.

My dad was Burt A. Solomon and he lived from January of 1953 until June of 2001. He died of a single unpressedented heart attack. When it happoned he was sitting in his car outside of the theater inside of which me and my sister were rehersing for a play, peter pan. He was helping out back stage but had some time off between run throughs. He drove to get fast food for lunch and then parked his car to sit for a bit and play gameboy. I had introduced him to gameboy a few years before and he took to it during his train commutes to work until he soon surpassed me in many games. He was never hospitalized, had never had previous heart attacks, he was never in any pain, just here one minnute and gone the next.

How do I feel about this? Sad? yeah, but not that much. And it seems like many people are surprised to here this, that my spirits don't spontaniously drop when the subject is brought up, but instead I brush it aside and continue on with the conversation. But the thing is, I greived for him. I mean I GREIVED for him. For the next two years of my life it hung over my head constantly. To be honest, though I have a strong recolection of that entire general time, I have verry little idea what happoned for the rest of that summer. I was in a daze. It was surreal. To be that sad all the time was almost rediculous but I didn't understand how I could be happeir tomorrow then I was now if tomorrow my dad was still gone. But of course my life went on and school strted and such (a horrificly bad year for all sorts of other reasons) and I wasn't sad all the time anymore but it was still there. Still going on for me. My mom was verry clear that we had to feel this. That what we were going through should not be swept under the table or covered up. So I cried a lot. And I talked about it a lot. And I think that helped me a lot.

After thouse years passed I started to try to idealize him in my mind. Not because I felt there was any truth in that but I felt that it was the norm, for a boy to idealize his dead father, and I felt that adults expected it of me. I didn't sit and think this out obviously, it wasn't compleatly consious. Despite this I was never actualy able to idealize him in my mind. I knew my dad pretty well, probably better then most kids really know their fathers at that point in there lives, and because of that I knew him for a human being and was not able to think of him as anywhere near perfect.

And so, I don't know, I don't think about it that much. It doesn't occure to me to think about that much. I still miss him, but I miss him like I miss other things from that time. Like I miss my fourth grade intreations with my friends, like I miss being so short that the world seems like a never ending maze. But theres just not the forbearing sadness there once was, and thats good. I think his death has had an impact on me, but what had a greater impact was him and his generaly fatherly influence on me and then the sudden lack there of more then the shock and saddness of his passing. I'm not the same person I was then, not even remotely. I don't aspire to be my dad or be even close to what he was, except in a verry few aspects. And really, why I don't bring it up is because this seems out of the ordenary for people, and it takes too long to explain adequetly why I'm so ok with it. Its kind of strange, the whole time I was sad about it I just DID NOT want to talk to anyone about it. Every one was always asking me if I needed to talk about it and I just wanted them to go away, to shut up. Now I don't care to talk about it for a compleatly different reason. And thats all I have to say right now. 

and in my mind i still need a place to go