I feel like I've been floating for the past week. Last Sunday I didn't feel tired at all so I stayed up all night. Come Monday I thought sleep would hit me in the middle of the day but it didn't. I stayed up very late that day. I know I slept that night because I had an interview on Tuesday but I wasn't in bed for very long. I hit the interview, which went well and didn't feel tired at all. That evening C wanted to get together. I predicted the great sleep would come that night yet I invited her over. She caught me sleeping and got upset that I ignored her. We argued though we did sleep for a couple hours. The next day I went to her place were I slept on the couch. I thought I fixed my sleep problem last night when I got a nice long sleep but I've spent the entire day in a haze. Not sure why, though it may be my diet.

I didn't write this to give you an iternary of my week, I want to talk about something that I may not be able to discuss fully while in this blurry state.

Everyone has stories of September 11th, 2001, how it affected them, how they felt and about the people they knew involved. I'm going to save mine for the five year anniversary but I will say it affected me deeply at the time it happened. Right now I'm thinking of everything that has changed because of it. Not the obvious extra (and mostly surface) security at airports, I'm talking about how this country has become so charge politically since.
I don't want to make this into a political blog, there are far too many of those, but I will lapse at times and discuss my political views.
One of the bits I wrote for my act was about how happy I was to see Bush elected the first time around. He was a buffoon and, since I didn't like Gore either, I thought at least he could provide entertainment. After Sept. 11th he turned into a whole other animal and divided the country the likes of which it hasn't seen since the Civil War. People have taken sides and while those sides may include your hands around your opponent's throat, at least more people are thinking.
In the nineties there was too much apathy. People didn't even consider their own country, history and surely didn't take any interest in politics. That is one of the main reasons Bush gained so much support initially. Ignorance is a fan base you can be proud of.
However, for all the problems now, at least more people are thinking. Where politics was once a quiet brook you passed every day but never considered, it has now become a broken levee that swells over us all*.
We're divided but at least we're active. Where there was once indifference and apathy there is now anger and hatred. However misguided, there is a renewed activism in the country. I wasn't alive during the hippie years (thank god) but I can imagine it wasn't that much different from today. People are actually starting to give a shit and hopefully, once the inevitable tide has turned, they will continue to do so long after the current problems are out of office. That is the one and only good thing about this administration, it is waking people up and forcing them to take action. I think enough people have woken from their slumber to make the remaining time Bush is in office very difficult for him and his agenda. False patriotism and blind devotion is quickly waning and is being replaced by clear thinking. We are becoming wiser to propaganda and lies. Each time they are used gives us more reason to think for ourselves. Thankfully more and more are finally seeing things as we are.
Politics in this country and the millions who put so little thought into it have changed. It's just too bad it took so much to get people off their ass.



*Too much, you think?

I still know very few people in this town. I've had a few dates but few of them have panned out so to continue it further. I still see C quite frequently but our relationship hasn't progressed as I first envisioned. After she proposed we see other people while seeing each other we have become something more resembling intimate friends. Each week I spend nights at her place while she stops in after work and spends nights with me. Meanwhile she still is free to (and has) seen other people. I have as well but I'm not at this moment. I feel like there is a lot of other things I need to accomplish first. Meeting someone new will only take time away that I should be using to get back on my feet.
At first I thought I would be stuck with a lot of free time to kill since I didn't know anyone. Instead I'm spending most of it with her. She's my only real friend here and, other than my roommate, the only person I'm friendly with. The problem is C has a bad schedule. Most days she works starts early and gets off late at night. When she comes over she seems too tired to do much and I have to adjust my schedule to her. I enjoy her and I'm really close to her but it seems the most frequent thing we do together is sleep.
I have a friend in Boston, J, that I dated many years ago. She's become a close friend, someone I can really trust and the person I miss most since the move. J still has some feelings for me and I've had difficulty managing that as a friendship since we've stopped dating. It has ended a few relationships prematurely when girlfriends grew suspicious of our relationship so I've tried to shield her from my more personal life. Of course there's no reason to do that now since we don't even see each other but she has grown angry that our phone conversations have been getting cut short because I've been spending most of my time with C. Our last conversation ended badly after I was accused of being inconsiderate. Both of us said some things and hung up without reconciling. I know we'll speak again but I'm not pushing for it immediately. She is upset that I don't have time to talk with her on the phone as much as she would like.
I have an interview tomorrow which includes a test of HTML. I'm not worried about it, as HTML is very basic but I haven't kept in practice since I've been studying Javascript and I am trying to take some time to review it before tomorrow morning. The past two days have been a lot of studying and going over notes. C was working all yesterday but called very late last night after a bad day at work. I did all I could to console her today but I reserved tonight to study since I'll have to leave early tomorrow morning. Now she's upset with me for not being supportive though I've spent the majority of my free time with her. I understand this but my job search has really suffered since I've spent most of my time with her or on the phone or getting ready to see her. I need to just spend a few days on my own to get everything in gear.

On top of that my roommate and I are starting to get along better which means he wants to engage me in long meandering conversations that usually end with him yelling about religion. That's another thing I don't have time for.

It's time to figure out what I'm doing. I've thought of this for many years, before I was even old enough to be able to do anything on my own, and, while I've had some ups and downs, I haven't deviated too much from my goal. A lot of my life is a result of fate and a lot of it resulted from my efforts and direction.
I've always wanted to experience as much of life as possible. When I was younger I'd always hear from people that made good lives for themselves yet always talked about wanting to do this or that but never having the time to do so; they got married, had kids and time got away from them.
Writing is one of the few things in my life that is a constant and something I'm sure I'll do until I'm too old to do anything. I shaped my life around it. My degree in school was chosen not to get a job but to learn how to write better and form a career around that.
Since then my life has taken me around the country, I've seen a lot of things, been to a lot of places and have more than enough experience to fill a dozen books. Jobs are fairly easy to come by and I see them for what they are; a means to an end. Each one pays and each one offers more life experience. I used to see them as a stepping stone to a better job but now I know I'm meant to live this kind of life. I'm a dilligent worker and excel at most everything I do but I don't want to spend my life doing anything that I find pointless.
There have been times I've wanted a wife, a family and a home but those things (thankfully) eluded me. I'm not meant to have them because I could never accomplish what I want if I was a father or a husband.
I've come close. In relationships I'm devoted, attentive and giving, as I am to my writing but I can't give enough attention to both to allow them to succeed. I'm choosing the life I've had, the one that keeps me writing and learning. I don't ever want to settle down, no matter how tempting it may seem.

The longer I'm here the more I think I made the right choice in moving. When I first arrived and couldn't get the smell of smoke out of my clothes and couldn't imagine how I would start off without even a resume, a computer or any way to look for a job to better my situation, I was sure I had gotten into a deeper hole than I'd ever been in. I figured it was better than being back in Boston, where things weren't happening and I was doing the same work this year that I was doing in 2005 and 2004 but getting paid less for it. Then I didn't enjoy the city anymore. My fascination with it had long since worn off and I couldn't find any reason to stay there anymore. I was worried about moving because I had so much that when I did (which was inevitable) it would be a huge task.

Now I don't have to worry as much about moving or taking care of my things. I was robbed a few years back and I used to constantly worry it would happen again. Now all that is gone and it feels much better.

I'm sure the worst of it has passed. I've gotten some good responses from all the resumes I've sent out, gotten some interviews for next week and, if everything works out as it should, I will be working by the end of this week.

I'm also making a lot of progress with my new book. I sent the first pages to a friend of mine who was a former Literature teacher and was told it's one of the best things I've ever written. My characters are more developed and the writing is as good as any professional writer. She suggests I present what I have to agents or look for a grant. I'm not at that point yet, it's far too early for that, but I will say that I'm harder on myself than anyone and I'm very pleased with it. It's moving quickly and has a better chance of being published than anything I've written. I know it's the most engaging piece of writing I've ever worked on.

Will write more later. I've got to get back to it.

Things are getting better. After I got here I had a lot to worry about. My first concern was organizing all my problems before I could even decide what to do. After buying enough clothes to live on I figured all my problems could be grouped into three categories.

Remember all that music I lost in the fire? I had hundreds of cds, probably over a thousand and lost most of them in the fire. I managed to save my iPod (it was in my pocket) but I was reluctant to work on it for fear of losing that too. This weekend I decided to get to it and see if I could hook it up to my new computer without losing any music. I was afraid it would delete everything I had on there (my entire music collection) which now I wouldn't be able to replace.

With a little time and work I set up itunes and was able to connect my ipod to the computer so it would play all that was on there rather than just what on itunes. Now I can manage all the music on there, rather than just what was available like I could on my old computer.
I called Apple and they suggest I use a program to get all the music out of there and save it to my hard drive so I won't lose anything. Apple doesn't advertise this as it leads to piracy and music theft but after I told them my story they gave me directions how. Now my entire music library and all the music I lost is saved on my hard drive and if, by some freak accident, this computer blows up as well, I can save it in the future. I know most people don't care all that much and it's tech geek stuff but this made my week. My month even. This is the best thing to happen to me since I got here.



Been listening to a lot of Motorhead lately. It just really seems to fit my mood now. It's perfect.

My feelings for Johnny Cash have gone far beyond simple appreciation for his work. I think the man has done more than what any one person can aspire to. He's known as a musician but he's done so much and accomplished so many things, it wouldn't be fair to use just one label.

My mother was a fan of Johnny Cash. She played his records on Sundays when there was nothing else to do. His music was the background to Sunday mornings when we dashed off our church clothes to put on play clothes and listen to at breakfast. I relegated him to music that only my parents listened to and, therefore, not anyone I'd consider myself a fan of.

As I grew and my music tastes broadened I pulled out my mother's old records and grew an appreciation for his music. He had a voice that was impossible to duplicate. It was weathered and sounded like a man at his lowest. I could hear the same thing when I stood alone in the forest and listened to the wind through the branches. It sounded supernatural. It was ghostly and it caught my attention. This man had secrets and knew things I could never know. His songs were stories and you knew, just from how he sang, that he really felt each one. Behind each song you knew there was something more, some secret he was keeping. He identified with every person ever down on his luck with no way out. There have been many times I felt that and needed that. It’s rare that you ever feel such an emotional response to music today but Johnny did that to me a lot. He’s been through so much more than I ever have or will. He’s a mountain.

He wasn't my generation, he was old. He didn't do drugs or screw around. He seemed tame compared to all the bands I listened to. He never yelled because he didn't have to. His voice carried weight. Each carefully spoken word echoed. When I felt like I first understood Johnny Cash I felt like I was uncovering a lost nuclear bomb. This guy had done it. He had been so far, been through so much and not only made it out but caused some damage on the way.

He should have been made president. He symbolized everything this country is about. His life mirrors the rise of America. He was everything this country had ever hoped to be. Born dirt poor, in some of the worst poverty in this country's history he endured. As his family starved and mourned the violent death of a brother he adored, he went out to make his own life with nothing to his name.

Throughout it all he remained who he was. He was always an amalgam of good and evil. He didn't lie but lost himself in drug addiction. He had been lost so many times; critics wrote him off, his family left him, his fans, even himself but he persevered.

He outsold the Beatles and went against public opinion, addressing the Vietnam war and those who fought in it, though it rankled his stalwart fans. When Bob Dylan was criticized for going electric, he was the first person to take his side. From that he earned a lifelong friendship. He helped other musicians on their way up, guarding them from the dangers he had faced. During the war he played in Vietnam to entertain the troops and helped farmers losing their land. When Richard Nixon invited him to play at the White House and requested Okie From Muskogee and Welfare Cadillac, he refused and instead played What is Truth, Man in Black and The Ballad of Ira Hayes, songs that weren't as pointed as the President's requests. He was the epitome of the American dream, coming from nothing, facing incredible odds, suffering and rising above. Each song told that story. Everyone, from prisoners to preachers, sock hopping teens to emo punks, could feel that. I wonder if he ever knew how far his music would go and how it would be heard.

I don't think this country would be the same without him. He was everything it aspires to be; hard working, tired, broken but honest. His feet walked every road and played every corner of every state. He met presidents and played with Elvis. He attempted suicide and cursed at police. No one could ever replace him. His type vanished long before he did.

A while ago C got me a book which I put off reading until today. It's one of those books that promises to show you ways to improve your health through mental stimulation and self discipline. I read a lot of those when I was really involved in martial arts (one of which promised to make my skin impervious to harm and strong as steel. Needless, to say it didn't work.) but this one involves men and sex.

To clear things up a bit, I've been looking at sex a lot differently since I've come here. After all I've been through I realize I devoted too much energy on it or meeting women, pursuing them, etc and I need to concentrate on other things. Now I feel like I've wasted too much time and energy and I really need to refocus what I'm looking for and direct my energies into other things. Because of this I have lost a good deal of interest in sex and have become overly cautious about relationships. In all the ones I've been in, especially when seeing KT, I put so much time and effort into it that I had little left to do anything else.

Now I feel like I'm cheating C (I'm sure she does too) with my minimal interest in sex so, intuitive person that she is, she picked up that book for me. It doesn't deal with a lot of the emotional shit I'm dealing with (and getting over slowly) but more of the physical limits, which are much farther than we believe.

When a man orgasms his entire body is focused on expelling his seed because the possibility of a new life is what his entire body is designed for. All the energy he has within him is borrowed for a few moments of intense feeling and ejaculation, nevermind the amounts of fuel needed to produce such amounts of sperm.

**The average male ejaculation produces 50- 250 million sperm each time. In effect, one ejaculation could repopulate the entire United States.**

To create this much sperm the body needs materials, as well as energy. All the raw materials come from the man and are stored within him. Once used up and ejaculated, is it any wonder he feels such an overpowering wave of fatigue?

In Alfred Kinsey's study Sexual Behavior in the Human Male, it is reported that the average male ejaculates five thousand times in his lifetime which means he ejaculates, at a minimum, five trillion sperm before he dies. Each of those sperm cost material and energy to create and, no matter how infintesimal the amount, five trillion adds up to be a significant lost of body matter and energy.

For centuries Eastern thought has believed each ejaculation draws strength and life blood from the man. Therefore the more sex a man has during his lifetime the shorter his lifetime is expected to be. Once a flower has spread its seeds it slowly withers and dies. Once a man has spilled his seed his purpose is finalized and energy used to improve his life is depleted for the possibility of a child. Men's lifespans are notoriously shorter than womens'. This is one of the reasons why.

I've been seriously considering celibacy lately in light of recent events and with these facts it doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

Been reading up on the city so I thought I'd list some things about this place that people may or may not know.

Where were we? Kam and I were standing on the side of the road while the wet and smoking ashes of what I owned were herded into piles. Some were tossed on the side of the road. I'm not sure what happened to them all. At that point I didn't care. All I'm thinking about is where do I go from there, what the fuck do I do now?
I briefly considered heading back to Boston but remembered I had no apartment, no job, no nothing. I did a good job of closing everything up that I had nothing to come back to. What a waste it would be, could you imagine the story of my trip to Chicago? "My truck blew up, my stuff got burned so I decided to come back."
"You didn't even make it to Chicago," faceless conversation participant asks?
"Nah, decided that wasn't a good sign."
"How far did you make it?"
"Snowshoe, Pennsylvania."
"Where?"

Exactly. I had no idea where we were, didn't even believe there was a town named Snowshoe in the middle of Pennsylvania. The tow truckers (there were a few of them now, trucks burning on the side of the road attract that sort of attention I guess), were cool and helped us figure out where exactly we were. They gave us a ride to this truck stop where they said we could get some food and wait until U Haul sent a truck to finish the trip. I felt like I was in limbo. I was homeless, had very little to my name and uncertain what's next.
In the truck the driver said "at least you can say you took a ride in a vintage '73 Mack truck." Yeah, that makes it all worth it. I'd gladly do it again.

We waited there in the parking lot for hours, Kam and I, until we decided to head to the truck stop and get some food. I wasn't particularly hungry, I really doubted I'd ever eat again but something to do would be better than standing there getting roasted in the sun and stewing over the situation.

I've been in truck stops around the country, including a very weird liquor store/fireworks shop on a reservation just outside of Las Vegas, but this was the nicest one I've ever been to. I felt like I stepped back sixty years, where people were run out of town if they were seen holding hands in public. Very old timey and very cozy. The customers looked like regulars that were enjoying their daily tea and swapping stories. We took a seat by the window in case U Haul decided to actually deliver the truck that they promised (going on four hours now).
Everyone was wondering about the burnt out shell outside the window and seeing us sunburnt and covered in dirt and ashes they had some questions for us. The waitresses were very cool, each came by to offer condolences and ask if there was anything they could do.
I remember I ordered chicken fingers but I don't think I finished. They offered some pie on the house or coffee but I wouldn't have been able to eat any of it. My mind was going in too many places.

Past the five hour mark the truck carrying our truck pulled up and we were off. The excitement and relief to finally be on the road and changing my life was over. The truck was covered with safety notice inside and out and I wondered if that was intentional or merely ironic. It was a long haul to Chicago and I don't think either of us spoke for some time. I fell asleep somewhere in Indiana at a rest stop and in the morning had the terrible feeling that I woke up into a bad dream. Things got slowly easier and we were talking though not laughing. Kam has a knack for making me laugh, he has the same sense of humor as I do but neither of us were in the mood. He lost all he brought with him on the trip; changes of clothes, his palm, his books and his ipod. All I had was burnt and warped cds and dvds in burned and wet boxes in the back.
Indiana was very rural and for a while, I was jealous. I knew living in that area would wear me down with boredom but I wish I could live in a place so seemingly free of constant stress everywhere, somewhere where you knew everyone around you and your father and his father went to the same high school you went to. We passed a bonfire with a bunch of people congregating around it and it made me think about my life and what could have been had I made other choices. I knew I was too wrapped up in things I shouldn't be and place too much importance and effort on things that are needless and I was offered the perfect opportunity to change what needed to be changed.

We stopped in Akron, the home of Devo, to pick up food, clothes and charges for my cell phone and Kam's ipod. I picked up a few t shirts and a couple pairs of shorts. When we got to Chicago we were hot and neither of us had had a good night's sleep for days. I scrambled to get a place on schedule with my move and ended up agreeing to move in with someone I didn't know very well and only talked to for some time on the phone. It was one of many risks I took for this move but he had a flexible lease and a good price for a two bedroom apartment. I was in Chicago.

I am forced to tell my story constantly to every person, not because I'm digging for sympathy, but just to explain my situation.

Why did it take me so long to get references for the interview? Because they
all burned up.

Why did you move without anything? Were you running from something? No, I
lost everything.

Why are all your clothes new? Because I had to buy new ones after I lost all my
clothes.

That, of course, leads to more detailed explanations that I'm tired of getting into. I should just give everyone a link to this site. That could save some time.

Surprisingly I haven't met anyone that didn't believe my story. I thought I would encounter this a lot so I keep my cell phone armed with the photos of the fire close by. I've never had to use it (except at the U Haul office but I'll get to that). If I ever did show them they could just as easily say it wasn't my truck but I saw it on the side of the road and took the photos to make up some weird story at which point I'll tell them to fuck off. It would be like my roommate who got very suspicious of this new guy moving in with him reeking of smoke that said I "could be some guy going around the country dirty with burned clothes and shoes moving in with people and scamming them out of their money." What the fuck?

I'm not trying to be Zen or anything now but one thing I've been thinking about is how materialistic and gratuitous so many people are. Everyone is so overly concerned about acquiring stuff. When I saw my stuff burning I remember thinking it was lucky that I was fine and unhurt and considered going back in to get some things, though I know how stupid that would be.
For some reason while the truck was burning I thought of Paris Hilton. I don't think she is a particularly attractive, intelligent or worthwhile person but I remember seeing clips of her going shopping spending thousands of dollar in a breath and how people look up to her for living just that type of lifestyle and aspire to it.

Most think success is being able to buy things that cost far more than they are worth just to gain the envy of others. When I tell people my story I've heard more than once "I don't know what I would do! I wouldn't be able to stand it."
Do things have that much importance on our lives? Do people that have so much money that they spend it so frivilously realize how much of a constant struggle it is for some people to even make enough to live? Do they feel guilt when buying unnecessary things or do they not know? Should they even feel guilt? They earned it right?


Most of us did, anyway.

and what's with those huge bug eyed sunglasses I see so many people wearing. Didn't they ever see "The Fly"? Those are a fashion trend destined for the embarrassing pile along with bell bottoms and leisure suits.

Today has brightened up. I get into these deep funks and stay that way for a while. Sunday is notorious for that as there's nothing else to do except be alone and just ruminate. When I think too much I get really anxious and depressed.

Rollins Band was opening for X at the House of Blues. I've seen both bands before and both have had stellar performances. X in particular has been amazing.

A band from Texas called the Riverboat Gamblers opened the show. Rollins is notorious for having little heard bands that aren't that good but put on a great show open for him and this band was that. They put on an amazing show and I wouldn't mind seeing them again and could get into their stuff if I heard it more. The singer ran the show. He constantly jumped down to sing with the audience and even got on the floor to run through the crowd. At one point he climbed the stacks, walked on the balcony and made his way around to the other side to climb down.

The Rollins Band came out and immediately began posing. If you know Rollins you know his image and he hasn't much deviated from that since day one. He was a contorted, grimacing, sweaty mass covered in tattoos and dripping wet jogging shorts. The band he played with was billed as classic Rollins Band, which I guess is true if you consider the band that only recorded his two most radio friendly albums. His current band, which is just him fronting the instrumental group Mother Superior, was replaced for this tour. Who knows why. Rollins goes through lineups the way most people go through socks.
The band was good and played all their old hits. The newest song was from 1997. Unfortunately it felt like what it was, a nostalgia show. The band seemed to be going through the songs like they've done it a hundred times and were still on the same tour many years ago. Rollins was the centerpiece as usual but relied too much on posturing and mean looks at the audience, as well as a variety of weird hand gestures. The worst Rollins show is still better than most other concerts but I found myself laughing at bits that I would have awed me years ago.

During the solo of Civilized he had his scary man monologue while the bass pounded. It went like this.
The man walking down the street
He gets into his helicopter
(Unintelligble)
The helicopter is splitting!
America is tearing itself apart!
It's all the same.

The best part of the show- when people were yelling out songs during the break and the guy behind me screams out "Play the songs that set my soul on fire!!!"

X came out after a few Rollins die hards, all the ones screaming MACHINE! or MECHANIC! for Rollins, had gone home. X is one of the most underappreciated bands and even during a show like tonight's where they played thirty year old songs I've heard hundreds of times before, I'm reminded why. John Doe put his heart into each song, moving like he did when he was a kid on the Sunset Strip. Billy Zoom played the fiftes rocker with his boots and leather jacket. I could even ignore his ogling and winking at every girl in the front row. That and Exene still dressing like the homeless nymph in threadbare dolly clothes. She didn't look too happy to be there.

On the way home I found a piano keyboard someone left next to a dumpster. I don't usually dumpster dive but it looked good and had no problems so I took it home, figuring if anything it will be interesting to drop from my balcony but it works. Now I have a keyboard. Maybe I'll learn how to play. I don't really need one but I figure having a keyboard is better than not having one.

**This ad was postponed to add the pictures which, unfortunately, never came through**

Spent the last few days looking through job sites, applying to jobs, anything I can do to find a job. It's not easy coming to a new city where you know no one and getting a good job out of the blue. I'm sure once I do things will clear up and hopefully get back on track.

I've been feeling shitty constantly. I'll feel better some days but I'm always down. I blame it on the fact that I'm not where I should be, how the relationship between KT and I completely shit the bed and the fact that I don't have much to my name. I feel like if I had stayed in Boston things would be different but I remember thinking a couple of months ago how I'd have to leave Boston or things would never get better and everything would be great if I got up and moved.

Most people I know are unhappy. Not just with their situation, but dissatisfied, miserable or sad. I don't want to reach or put the blame elsewhere but maybe it's a societal epidemic. Modern culture is so monotonous and suffocating that very little enjoyment is gotten from anything anymore. All happiness is now owned or marketed by others and pushed on you until it loses its flavor. Movies are the same or mediocre copies of better ones. Music is so thoroughly marketed to everyone that it's not daring or new anymore. Like politicians, once they get to the point where they are heard by everyone and can do some good they aren't what they used to be.

That's why everyone is on prescription meds and drinking. Of the few people I opened up to most of them suggested Prozac or other drugs to cheer me up. Some suggested therapy. God knows I could use it but the therapist I had as a kid was an asshole that did more harm than good. If I drank or did drugs I'd do them so heavily that I'd never come out. I need a respite from all this and if I found it I know I wouldn't leave.

What is there to look forward to anyway? Music, something I based my life on for so many years, has gone shitty. My friends have dried up or disappeared. My family is no help. I am in no mood to date. I still see C and things have gotten better between us but I get even more depressed around her. At least she understands and helps but I just feel like I've come to the end.

Happiness is the most difficult thing to find in this world. People work their whole lives to achieve what they want and then find themselves unhappy with their selection. All through my life I was worried about being unhappy. When I was a kid I was worried about being divorced and going through a mid life crisis so I chose my path carefully. I chose my career based on what I wanted to do rather than what would pay the most and I am good at it but it's hard to find a fulfilling job in my field. I know people that are doctors or are very successful and so overstressed that they can't enjoy anything.

I'm trying to find where all this comes from. I remember feeling this way since I was a kid so I guess you could say it began in my childhood though that's far too easy. I think I'm to blame, that I made mistakes that I must atone for but I have no idea what they are. I've always been able to see through bullshit, a trait that really separated me from other children growing up so I feel that may be the cause. I can tell when people are lying (often) either to me or themselves or forcing happiness onto themselves which it seems everyone does all the time. I worried about growing up when I was a kid because I knew adults weren't happy. I was miserable as a child so I knew there was nothing to look forward to. If I had been diagnosed like it seems every kid at school today is I would have been pulled out of class immediately and put somewhere.

I put a lot on myself too, more than I put on anyone else. I'm always forgiving to those around me and I don't get upset if someone makes a mistake but I dwell on my own constantly. I never let myself forget anything I do and let it build until it just seethes inside me. I know I should be doing more, I'm very intelligent, but I just can't find the next step to get there. I've tried so goddamn hard. I wouldn't feel so bad if I hadn't put so much effort into everything I do. I've worked my ass off in jobs, relationships, looking for work and as of right now, nothing has worked.

If I was a religious person I would say someone is out to get me. I feel like I've lived my life under a black cloud.

I made some changes to this page. I think it looks much better. There are now links that highlight some of my interests.

A few days since I posted. I don't like neglecting it like what I've seen happen to so many other blogs. I made this to be sort of a personal journal and a way to write down what's happening and hopefully help me through it. Maybe sometime in the future I can look back on it (if the internet hasn't completely collapsed by then) and be thankful I don't have to deal with that stuff anymore. Until then here I am.

I love going to shows. They've been a constant in my life since I was old enough to go covertly under my parents' eyes. They thought they were full of drugs and fist fights so the first one I was able to go to was Nine Inch Nails when I was in college. They were on their Downward Spiral tour and Marilyn Manson (then relatively unknown) and the Jim Rose Circus Sideshow opened for them. Though they put on a good show, I'd have to say Marilyn gave them some heavy competition.

Since then I made a point to try to go to at least one show a month. The first few years living in Boston it wasn't a problem. I saw Slayer, the Butthole Surfers, Rage Against the Machine, Rancid, Dropkick Murphys, Metallica and dozens of other bands. Then I noticed I didn't make the effort that much anymore. It was a lot of time; standing in line, waiting through mediocre opening bands, dealing with asshole crowds that I didn't go that much anymore. I still went but it was usually reserved for fewer bands. I didn't take a chance on seeing bands I might like, I had to go see bands I knew I would. Sometimes the shows were too far and I just didn't want to make the trip.


Black Sabbath during their Reunion Tour. I saw this one with my oldest brother at the (then) Fleet Center in Boston. Pantera and Deftones opened for them.

It wasn't as if I was doing anything more pressing. Most days I would just stay home with a movie or write rather than go out and see a show. I thought maybe I was getting old.

I'd look in the newspaper and recognize fewer and fewer of the bands. Boston is a very college town so all the newest bands that you'd only here of if you kept up with that (which I did in college but have long since stopped) played there and all the bands I really wanted to see played outside in Worcester, which was tough to get to.

Now that I'm in Chicago I have a chance to see many more shows since every band travels through here. That's one of the reasons I chose this city. I'd hoped it would inspire me to keep up with live music and so far it has. Sunday night Rollins Band is playing with X. I've seen both of them before and they both put on amazing shows. It should be good. I've always wanted to see the House of Blues, too.

I didn't tell the whole story because I'm currently negotiating with insurance companies and, as it stands now, may still go to court over what happened. I've been told it's a best to keep things quiet until it is resolved though I have no idea when that will be. I don't want to leave anyone in wondering what I'm talking about each time I post and, so I can keep you up to date with everything that's happening, I'll try to tell what happened. As it stands, very few people read this anyway.

I decided to move to Chicago and took a trip there to check out the city for neighborhoods, jobs and find a place. While I was there I met a woman, KT, and we got along very well. I ended up spending most of my time with her and didn't do everything I set out to do. I didn't find a place, didn't meet any job prospects but I spent my time there very happy. I really fell for her and she felt the same way. I'm usually very rational but when I was with her I didn't care. Within a few days we were talking about moving in and even hinted at marriage. On the way back to Boston I considered all the ways I could propose to her. I could see myself spending my life with her, which is odd considering I never wanted to marry or spend my life with anyone.

I had planned to return the week after but I had to get the last of my affairs in Boston in order. I had already started packing, I just needed to make arrangements for my friend Kam to come up and help with the move/road trip there, get a truck and go. Kam has always been reliable and I wouldn't want anyone with me on this trip but him.

I had heard bad things about U Haul, they were unreliable, they had terrible customer service and kept their trucks in terrible conditions but, pressed for time, I ended up choosing them. I reserved a truck beforehand though I was told it "should" be there the day I needed it, even though I already paid for it. I should add that I get very stressed when traveling, not because I hate to travel, I love it in fact, but there's so much I can't plan for and I have so little control over what happens to me. Putting my fate in the hands of a company that hopes to have a truck there for you the day you need it though they signed a contract that it will be there only added to my frustration.

Therefore it was no surprise when I got to the station and there was no truck available. When I asked why I only got confused stares in response. No one that worked there could give a proper explanation so, after an hour, I finally got to the manager who confessed that the truck was there but it was being worked on and they lost the key.

At least they have it, I reassured myself and, since everything I owned was packed and taped into boxes back at my apartment, all I could do was wait. I saw a mechanic working on a truck that seemed to be decades old. The cab looked in very bad shape. The truck seemed cramped and dirty. The manager saw me eyeing it and called out (to make me feel better?) that it was my truck. I naturally thought he was joking so I didn't think much of it.

Close to an hour later the manager came to me with a key. He was out of breath and seemed very pleased with himself. They had made another key, just for me, since they had lost the original. When I asked where my truck was he seemed confused and pointed to the out of shape truck. When I refused, he smiled and assured me that, not only was the vehicle in driving shape, but it's the only one they had.

The mechanic came out and asked where I planned to take the truck and laughed when I told him Chicago. The truck, he said, was only meant to be driven in town and not cross country as I had planned and U Haul was well aware of. This only upset me more and demanded another truck. The manager, who was already talking to another customer seemed upset and yelled at me that I had to take it.

Looking back, I realize I should have left at this point, demanded her rip up anything I signed and try my luck with another moving company. However, with time running out and already too stressed to think correctly, I took the truck back and loaded it with everything I had. Only when I locked the door did I find out there was no key to the back. Obviously this would cause a problem so we had to drive back to the U Haul station to see if they had "lost" that as well.

When we pulled in the manager seemed happy to see us and actually came running out. I got a burst of hope for a moment when I thought maybe we would get a new truck and it was all a gag. Instead he came up to the hood, opened it, pulled out the original keys and the paper contract attached to it that was left on the engine. Realizing the mistake and what damage it could have caused he quickly went back inside and I went on my way.

From the very beginning the truck was giving me problems. It drove slowly so you had to keep the gas pedal completely down just to keep it close to the speed limit, it made strange noises and shook when you used the brakes. Kam and I saw it as a joke. We had been in bad vehicles before and never had anything more than a flat tire so we pressed on, figuring whatever we encountered we could handle. Now that we were on the road everything seemed better. We were relaxing, laughing and I was glad I made the decision to finally leave Boston.

The truck was slow and didn't get good mileage. By the time we got to Wilkes- Barre it was the middle of the night. We had to stop to get some rest and had an uncomfortable sleep at a rest stop for a few hours. The next morning, cramped and lazy from bad sleep we started out. Around nine in the morning we were on the Western side of the side. By now the truck problems had become more aggravating than funny so when the truck started slowing down on a small incline on a highway we just shook our heads. We had been trading off driving duties and now Kam was driving. I was leaning against the door, trying to be as comfortable in the cramped cab as possible. I thought the worst thing that could happen was the truck would stall in the middle of busy morning rush hour traffic.

"Holy shit, it's on fire," Kam yelled. The truck had slowed to a stop and he had pulled over to the side of the highway. I thought it was a joke, considering we had difficulty going over forty. He leaped out and a moment later I did as well. I left everything in the cab of the truck. All I had was what was on me; my cell phone, my ipod, my palm and my wallet.

The truck was on fire. Kam said he had seen fire licking out from under the driver's side wheel and jumped out. Once out of range I could see flames dripping from the engine and soon after the cab was filled with smoke and flames. There was no way to go back and get what we left on our seats without getting seriously burned.

The fire blew out the first two tires then the windshield. It moved into the cab and started making it's way back. My clothes were the first thing back behind the cab and I just imagined everything catching fire. After that my furniture, computer, electronics, cds, dvds, books, everything caught fire.


Some rubbernecker gawking

I called 911 the moment I got out of the truck but it took them half an hour to come. I called U Haul right after I got off the phone with them and was greeted with a tired operate reciting what she'd been taught before; "Sir, you must call this number if you are in an accident." When I called the number I was hung up on. On the third try, with me practically screaming at the operator I finally managed to get someone else on the line. They offered no apologies or plans on what to do. They only wanted to know my location. By this time the state police had arrived and told me I was right outside of Snowshoe, PA. U Haul said they would send a truck to help.



The fire department arrived just in time to water down the embers of what I had. I was able to salvage some things, mostly dvds and cds. Everything else was melted or vaporized. The cab was burned down to the metal- no dashboard, no seat cushions, just the metal frame of the truck.



Some people arrived to take pictures and drive off. Lovely. Two people asked if they could help or if I needed to dail 911.

We stayed by the side of the road, nearby this town I never heard of, combing through my stuff. The truck arrived but it was only a tow truck and no replacement U Haul to get me on my way. Meanwhile Kam and I, as well as strangers collected everything that looked ok and put them in trashbags. I found the burned fragments of my college diploma. Each moment I'd find something that meant a lot that was too burned to take with me. I kept thinking of everything I would never see again; family pictures, my favorite shirts, my computer...



The tow truck drivers were a big help and made me feel better by telling me of worse accidents they'd seen. At least I was walking. True.

U Haul called. They finally understood what was happening and got their legal team to work. "At least you're okay," the incompetent operator said. "I lost everything...I...own." I was feeling sorry for myself but at this point I think I had a right to. I was still in shock. I had no idea what would happen next. I knew that I'd have to build everything back slowly and my life would be measured by "before the fire" and "after the fire". I thought of the future, when I bought a house, put together an office and relatives come over; "Where's your diploma, where are your photos?"

Enough for now, I don't want to think about it any longer.

For those of you that don't know and haven't figured it out yet, I was in a fire that destroyed almost everything I owned. That's part of the story. I'm hesitating to say the rest for legal reasons but hopefully I will get to it soon.



As the firefighters were hosing down the remains of my possessions and scraping anything that looked recognizable into a pile my friend and I took anything that looked salvageable. Since then my room has been cluttered with things that looked like it may have survived. Most were dvds and cds. Some melted, some had too much smoke damage to keep and some, amazingly, was untouched. Today I finished sorting through it all and cleaning what I can.

I had far too many music and movies so this actually is a burden off my back, the problem is I lost some I really wanted and would have kept for many years. The good news is I only lost one cd that is irreplaceable. The songs on it were released later but the edition of the cd will be impossible to find again. It was something only collectors would care about but that's life.

All my Scissorfight and Anthrax are ok. My Ramones cds came out ok. The Stooges were salvageable and thankfully, Mojo Nixon had little or no damage.

My Johnny Cash was destroyed. Devo I couldn't even find. I think those were some of the ones that melted into a sludgy black puddle of plastic. I'll get those back.

All the autographed ones; Black Flag, Anthrax, Joe Satriani, Pantera and Black Sabbath are ok.

The Ms got hit hard. All my Misfits, Motorhead, Metallica and Megadeth were beyond recognition.

Now all I have left is a garbage bag full of smoke damaged books I couldn't toss out. Hopefully they aired out enough to put them in order.

At night everything seems to come at you. It's the only time I'm able to be alone and all my worries plague me. When I first arrived in Chicago it was the only welcome time I had. I'd fall into my bed, my room too warm for sleep, and I'd just let it overtake me. I didn't dream for days and I'd wake up still clogged with sleep but too hot and sweaty to pretend any longer. I had so much to do and was never sure to where to begin. The worst was the first few days when everything was in front of me and I couldn't wait for the days to pass. The very next morning, after it all happened I felt as if I woke into a bad dream. I knew, after a few weeks, things would be manageable and it wouldn't be so bad but those weeks couldn't pass fast enough.

Now those weeks are behind me and I feel like I've got a shaky grip on everything. I'm surprised I've accomplished what I have yet still I see so much ahead of me. Since that day I've had a heavy feeling in me that I've tried not to face. It's a mass of worry and uncertainty that I do my best to ignore. During the day it lies still and comes out when I finally try to put myself to rest. I have strange, surreal dreams of loss and being lost. In all my dreams I'm helpless or I have to relive what I experienced in some form. People are taken from me, I'm in an accident or I'm put somewhere without any way to get back. I always wake up with a clear memory of it, astonished at how closely it resembles my life. Dream interpretation has always been an interest of mine but these offer no challenge.

Some days, like tonight, I can only lie awake in bed and go over everything in my head. I make an inventory of all I've lost or I consider the other options I could have taken. I know that there was nothing I could have done that would have made my situation any better. I've come to terms with that. In no way am I to blame for what happened. It can only be explained by negligence or freakishly bad luck, perhaps a combination of the two. That at least that brings me comfort.

I don't care much for possessions but I miss the memories they brought. I miss the clothes given to me by friends, books I enjoyed and music I valued. It seems so trite to people when I mention it but now, more than halfway through my life and with little to show for it, I know it's not so small. This is what I hate, the mass of worry, anger, sadness and anxiety that has been with me since that day. It has become a physical thing that keeps me fatigued and worn. All this will be so much easier when it is gone.

I've been looking over my life a lot lately. I wonder what genre it would be listed as if it were to be made into a movie, tragedy, comedy, triumph of the human spirit? It's been filled with parts of each and I really feel like I've been through a lot and overcome a lot. When I was younger I'd spend days in the woods behind my home playing out elaborate stories in my head. I was more active than other children; clusters of trees were caves, broken sticks were swords and I'd imagine myself far away from home rather than the few blocks away that I was.

As I got older my visions changed. I wanted to be a biker, a hitchhiker, writer, sometimes a felon. I always imagined these things in the future. I never considered college, I thought school was something I was forced to go through until I got on my own. I never knew where I'd go but I figured when I got older I'd do all these things, I'd travel and have great experiences that most people never imagine. Deep down I always thought I'd end up like my dad; married young with a stable job, home, kids, the whole package. Things didn't work out that way and I'm thankful. My life has been near extraordinary when looked at from a certain angle. It hasn't been easy and some days I think it's more than I can bear but I'm thankful for it.

All that I hoped to happen in the future is happening now. I lost everything I owned and I lost the woman I was in love with. Everything I wanted ended and everything I had was lost and I knew I had to start again with only what my abilities can bring me. I've had more second chances than a person should be entitled to but this is the freshest, boldest start I could have ever had. I didn't want it this way but subconsciously I needed it. I would never have chosen this if I could have seen what happened.

All my old friends are scattered around the country. My family is far away and those I spend time with now I've only known for scant weeks. I see things in myself that weren't there before and I see how different everything is. I feel like I've been reborn, which isn't always good. I feel like all the good luck I've had throughout my life disappeared at a crucial time and I was left with only what I could make. All my memories, photos and sentiments were destroyed and I could only watch them burn.

I know who I was back then and I didn't like it. I know who I am now and I see things I need to change. I've put it off for far too long but I couldn't be the person who I was, that would be a life I didn't want. I was hateful, greedy and lazy. Much of that is gone and I'm working to be better. I catch old feelings rising up now and then, anger for no reason, laziness and indifference and it doesn't feel right anymore. It feels like who I was, that man who had so much but didn't care. Now I have little and don't want much else. My goal is to live simply and happily. That is all I want from now on.

Intelligence, strength, compassion and determination are all I want for myself. Things, money and objects I don't care about anymore. All that can be taken from you in an instant. Work on myself because that is all I will ever have.

I have had a feeling that I won't last the year. If you know me you know I'm pretty obsessed with death, especially my own, but this is a pretty strong feeling. I actually felt it on July 27th. I don't think I'll die that day but I know I'll be dead by that day. Thirty three is a good time to go. I'm surprised I made it this far really.

Time to put my shit in order.

Thank god I bought an air conditioner (which I couldn't really afford) or I'd be miserable now. Yesterday Chicago had the highest temps in the country. This from a city I was hesitant about moving to because I thought it was too cold. I'm spending most of the time inside, each time I set foot out I feel this wall of heat hit me. I'm sweating almost instantly; heavy drops warm like tears. I spent last night with C at her place only to learn when I got there that she has no a/c. We spent the evening naked with only a small fan to cool us off.

It was strange, we feasted on pizza and chocolate milk. The heat has a way of hiding your hunger, as soon as I bit into a slice I was ravenous. The milk was a bad choice but I couldn't do with tepid water that night.

Several times last night I woke up frantically, the heat making it impossible to rest. My pillow was soaked through with sweat and both our bodies coated in a thin layer of salt. I couldn't imagine having sex, we both would have passed out from dehydration. As needy as I was, the heat just wore on me, making anything but the slightest movement uncomfortable. Save for some cooling off and some play in the shower, all I could think of was getting home and turning the air conditioner on high for the rest of the day.

One thing that concerns me, C and I are getting closer but she encourages me to date other women. I've never been one to cheat so it may be some form of self preservation. She is afraid I'll leave her or she doesn't trust herself. Both of us are fresh out of pretty intense situations so we're vulnerable. She's mentioned watching me with other women, which is another thing that sets her apart from any woman I've ever dated. She actually encourages me to see other people. While I told her she could see other men I know she's not doing so, since all her spare time is spent with me.