Saturday, November 29, 2008

Here's a new song I wrote tonight.

Get up, Get Out from michael waskom on Vimeo.

Friday, November 28, 2008

So I'm having a bad week so far, but this total sweetheart made me a new name tag so that makes the day better, and I'm glad for this person being so considerate.

Thanksgiving my grandfather had an aneurysm and was rushed to the hospital, minutes from death, had a 20% chance of death on the Operating Table and survived, making thanksgiving shitty. Today he had a stroke. Shit sucks.

Below is a slide show of my week so far. Enjoy it, click the pic to go to the album.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

I guess I should also mention music in all of this. My deep, deep love for almost all music. I can see the "good" of beauty in almost all forms or genres of music.

It's the trigger for many varieties of happiness and sorrow in my life. If I'm feeling down and sad I'll put on Spinnaker, Jon Caswell's band, and my only closest friend in the whole world. He's one of only maybe 3 people(none of them are family members) I would do anything for, anything. All he needs to do is ask. Just not I got sad and spaced out for a moment thinking about him.

Why can I make such a connection to music(and incidentally) the past, but can't make human connections?

Why can I write entire novels about longing and relationships yet I'm not able to forge these relationships? I write songs of the same nature.

I think I write it all down because I can want it, I can think it, but I can't actually feel it. And the act of trying to fill that void comes across nicely in the artistic process.
I'm not sure why I'm afraid of letting people in. Why I'm afraid that my psychological profile seems to fit most definitions of a sociopath, and that doesn't scare me, what scares me is that this forces me to make a decision. In my mind I should either be a cop or a criminal, or a rock star. I'm technically okay with any of those.

Over the weekend some friends of mine had a brunch at their house. I'm sure that if I would have been in town that I would have been invited. I would not have gone, becuase seeing the pictures on facebook I know that there is no way that I could have interacted on any level with all of those people, even though they're my friends, and I like all of them a lot, I just don't know how to do it.

That's the scariest thing in my life, knowing that I can't interact with people. Sure I'm good at playing the roll of a normal person, being funny and genial, but inside I explode.

I'll also admit that for some reason I'm ashamed that I've never felt extreme physical pain, like being shot, and why I feel like less of a man because I've never killed an animal for food or killed a man to save my own life, like in a war time situation.

All I have is my psyche and poverty, and of course my bicycle. Just now I wondered aloud why I like bicycling so much. Its a solitary thing to do.

I should just join the CIA and do everything that comes naturally. Being paranoid, sneaky, deceitful, and secretive.

Too bad my vision kept me from military service, even though I had high ASVAB scores.

Oh well, time for work!

Monday, November 24, 2008

I get scared to put this pen down on the paper.
It can be such a waste. Not much else scares me at this point.
I'm watching an old woman do this laundry like Charlie Bucket's mother and I think about Tom, and doing my laundry next to this guy who basically changed my world view.
He does his laundry too. And so, you know, ironically I moved to his home town and maybe he's in LA right now doing what I could be doing, but I'm not.
I'm here, wasting my gifts and feeling saaad, aww tragic right?
"Do we only need to keep working because it pays rent?"
Would I follow my heart, or keep my good job?

One day I'll get back to Gainesville and just TRY, even though Chuck says not to.
I'll be damned for picking up this pen because I might fail. And if that motherfucker can still do his own laundry, I can at least keep trying to write.
Why not?
I got off the sauce and into a program. where people understood my problems and you know, cared. I got oh-so-right with the Lord and your pops, who apparently has a direct line to the Man and the Fuzz called me out and called them both up.
So I ran but I came back. you were there, came down and got under my covers.
Years went by like they do, you want my friendship and I want my dick wet, and the fucking Beatles can't sing those songs without me thinking of our car crash.
We said it was a shame that you loved me so much and that I took too much. Fuck me for wanting you still and fuck you for still wanting me.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

So I was on the look out for a "Gentleman's Bicycle" for a few months now so today I figured I'd make my way around some of the local bike shops. I went to Big Momma's but didn't like what I saw there so I figured I'd head downtown.

I remembered seeing Naples Bike Shop, but thought that it was closed, until I saw a sign in from stating "Going Out Of Business Sale"

I stopped in and knew I was in the right place.

I found this old Panasonic tucked waaay in the back and it was over, I was even willing to pay the 80$ price tag, until the nephew of the former owner said he's take 20$. But then he said he'd give it to me if I took some junk over to this old guys house, done and done!

Beautiful, I'll get a new seat and clean her up, and maaaaybe make it a fixed gear, we'll see.

Today's going good.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

So I'm back so sobriety insomnia, which isn't fun. Granted I did get a little drunk tuesday but that was the first time in months.

Otherwise I realized something about myself, and why I tend to push my close friends away.

All of my good friends have so many of the qualities that I really wish that I possessed.

Example time. Andrew Wyatt. Here's a guy who isn't too smart, oh he's smart alright, clever, good with electronics knows how to fix things and is extremely creative but he's not playing around with game theory in his spare time or researching cancer but he is smart. And he's pretty fucking nice, like has an amazing family that I'm really jealous of, I spent a christmas at his house once and it made me really really depressed.
He played drums(impressively) in my band and eventually moved into my house, where in less than 6 months began to hate me for who I am, or rather, what I do. I could blame this on alcohol abuse. Never-the-less I'm fairly certain that he still hates me to this day, but strangely I don't hate him for who he is, in fact I like him a great deal for standing up for himself and to me, because he was probably right, I'm a son of a bitch and don't deserve his friendship and I crave what he has, total sensitivity and the ability to guard himself from others in such a way that he only lets people in who will enrich his life. I violated that and he quickly expelled me from his life. Moving on.

Although I wouldn't call Alex Zalo a best friend, he's a guy who I greatly admire. He's nice and EVERYONE likes him. He's funny, like he could be a comedian funny. He has in my eyes limitless potential, he plays instruments well, has great taste in everything and I've never seem him put his hand to an endeavor and fail.
I defiantly took this guy for granted, like in the way that you think he'll always be around so you can always fall back to him, but one day I'll find that he's gone, away doing something important, being famous and I'll be forgotten.

Jon Caswell. Well, let's face it, I let him get away. He's truly a free(albeit tortured) soul. Try as I may, he can't be contained and I never expected to have him be my best friend forever. He and I have been through a lot over the years and I would do anything for him still to this day. Anything. He's the kind of brother I wish I could have had.

I don't even want to get into how jealous of Travis Martin is for his musical creativity and imagination. Or Aaron Beasley for being truly classy and probably being brilliant and the most humble person I know.

I would give anything in my life(probably) to be any one of these people, which is why I befriended them and why I probably, deep down hate them on some level, because they have what I don't see in myself. I don't see the good qualities I have as being good enough to be as good as anything my friends have and that is why I eventually turn away from them, in shame. Why I'll die with a bottle in my hand no matter how sober I can stay for stretches at a time and why I'll call so many in my life "best friend" but as far as I can tell, never had that favor returned.

I do want these people to read this because I want them to know, that whether they know it or not, they've affected me, they matter. I want them to know that although I may not matter as much as I to them, I would turn over the world for them.

I think that's my whole M.O. in life, completely avoiding ever living my life, being myself and always being willing to sacrifice all for others. It's not noble, it's selfish because after I sacrifice I can try and feel better about being the bad person that I am, if I can for one minute pretend to be even slightly as good as any one of my friends.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

readallofthisdrivel? leavemeacommentplease.

Monday, November 10, 2008

I had a real fun time last night, one of the funnest times since summer, by far. I was in the nicest house I've ever been in, full of lots of really nice things, surrounded by genuine people whos company I enjoy a great deal. I didn't let go, in that I didn't let my guard down too much, like i want to, like I'm going to have to one day. But I still felt real good going to bed last night, feeling like things are okay.

I miss my dog a lot.

There's an inexplicable sadness that fills the majority of my friends, I can understand it, I can relate to it, I was and may still be there. There has to be some way to drive around the country and give all of my friends the hugs that they need. I want to go visit Jenny Faust and tell her that she matters, and people care about here. My friend Cierra needs to know that she has unlimited potential and that her dreams, however wild can come true.

John needs a friend, someone he can count on, and I'd want to be there for him but I can't let anyone in, not to the point of where I'd feel comfortable.

I don't know what it is about being in your mid-twenties and being sad. Song writers have written songs about it, there are books and movies and art and maybe it's a self fulfilling prophecy.

But hey, at least I don't feel stressed these days, I don't feel trapped and hunted. But I also don't feel like doors are opening for me, or that I'm a person of consequence.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

It's only Thursday and it's already been a tough week.

Monday and Tuesday I was a ball of nerves waiting for the election results. Thankfully, Obama clinched it and Wednesday morning I woke up for the first time in months and I wasn't worried. I didn't immediately turn on CNN. I actually lazily turned on VH1 and watched music videos, what a wave of relief.

I had my first chiropractic visit today, with an adjustment, pain free for the first time in 5 years and it was amazing. Although bad news came along. I have the beginning of arthritis in my neck and that I have the spin of a 40 year old.
This I find somewhat frightening, to think that perhaps one day in the near future I could be some kind of cripple is terrifying. One day, if I don't take care of this I could wake up and not be able to walk properly or turn my neck. I've never really, honestly confronted my own mortality, and if I were being honest here, I don't plan to now. But I DO have chiropractic visits lined up for the next few months, I want to be well and live without pain.

Back to politics I've been reading(per usual) tons of blogs and I can't believe how many people, usually young 18-21 year old girls believe that political issues don't touch them. They truly believe that their lives aren't affected by whomever is president etc. Also, I've recently encountered a few younger people who are genuinely afraid of Barack Obama, and really wanted John McCain to win. I can only scratch my head.

Anyways, I get to ride my bike to work tomorrow, and that always feels nice. Oh and yesterday I deep fried some catfish.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

I'll have to admit, that today I'm really happy. Everything I needed I got and all things worked out(go gators!).

I feel pretty good, but at this moment, I'm reading Anthony Bourdain's book Kitchen Confidential and I really miss working in restaurants, especially in the restaurant that I worked in in Gainesville. All the things he talks about in his book in some way or another I've experienced, and that's cool, a lot of people have that connection, which is probably why it's such a best seller.

What I'm trying to say is that Here I am in Naples, and I realize that I never should have moved away from Gainesville. I moved away for selfish reasons when I shoulda just stuck around and toughed it out. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty happy here, but I'm sure that I would be much better off had I had stayed. Something about that area of the state really feels like home, and I'm reminded of my visit there this summer and how much fun I had.

Anyways, my handlebars never came today, fuck you USPS, I guess I have no choice but to wait for Monday, that's my fun day.