In this world there are people that catch everyone's attention. It depends on what level of talent, or charisma they have, or perhaps good looks or fashion. But this doesn't go to them, this doesn't go to the ones who are easy to spot, easy to trace, and easy to love. This song goes to the ones who have it hard, who are warriors....Who face day in and out with a conviction that can only be unlocked by an honest heart and an open mind. A person who has waded through the bullshit, that knows what is important.
The person who can't walk without crutches everyday, but has to. The woman who can't use her arms but continues to strive for a goal. Any human being who has had life throw the biggest fucking curve ball and knock them on their ass and tried to make them quit, tried to make them end, tried to stop their existence....
This goes out to the ones who said no...and not only said no but said a fuck you, I am still going to be the human being that I was born and destined to be. There are some things in this world that are so powerful and impossible to comprehend, and some people will never come close to touching it, or experiencing it. I know not everyone wants to be stimulated all the time, or inspired, or activated, or provoked, or inclined to feel. But dam it man I feel like that all the time....I always feel some deeper connection to something that needs to happen. I can't shut my brain off, and I don't know why. I am not sure if it is a curse or a gift.
I'll be honest, sometimes I feel bad. Sometimes I feel real bad....My hands aches that I can barely pick up my bass, let alone brush my teeth. Sometimes My legs hurt so bad I cringe when I have to walk up a flight of stairs. Sometimes I am so nauseated that the thought of eating another meal again makes shutter. And I think the worst part of it all is that sometimes I feel bad for going through this. I feel bad because it happened to me, like a pain, like a loss, like a heartache. It is hard to move on sometimes, and forget about lost time, a lost love, and lost opportunities. I work hard to move forward and try and stake a future for myself, but I am never sure where I will go or how I will end up. I am just soloing over life's changes. Its scary man, real scary. Scary to think who and where I am now. Scary to think how it was before.
I am thankful to God that I can do the things I still love, because I never thought I would get the chance again. But it's just that much harder. I hope that my efforts can be recognized by those around me, but ultimately I think I need to recognize them. I don't need your approval, I need my own.
I had told a friend of mine about how I went to the edge of my sanity one time. That I had been in a place where I never thought I would have come back, and I did. He thought it was awesome....he wanted to have the same experience. He even told me he considered becoming addicted to drugs to reach where I had gone, and I don't think he was joking either. He said that it was awesome that I had gone through that, that I was no longer like most people. That I could no longer relate to most people....I found a lot of truth in that. I have learned a lot, and have tried to use my experience in a positive manner. I do find it hard to relate to others now....almost impossible at times. It's like finding out Santa Claus isn't real when you're still in kindergarten. You want to tell all your classmates but they don't believe you. They think you're crazy....because they all know Santa is real. Then you're alone...you know the truth but the truth has segregated you from the major populace. And slowly years later one friend pops up and says they found out Santa isn't real, and that they couldn't believe it until they saw it for their own eyes, or whatever. They didn't want to believe your sincerity and honesty when you told them that he was a farce...but they inevitably found out about through their own experience. I guess that is the easiest way of explaining how I feel at times.
Don't ever feel bad or wrong about your truth, it is yours and no one else. It deserves the respect and recognition just as much as the sky deserves the sun, or the clouds deserve the wind. Shout your truth from the mountain tops, and be proud.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Mad World
I really don't have aset point to put across tonight I guess. I just finished playing a show at the House of Blues in Hollywood. It was really fun and exciting. Needless to say that I met the band leader 2 weeks ago, got the music 4 days later, and had 2 rehearsals to learn 8 tunes to perform with 2 people I had never played with before made it even more exciting (nerve wrecking).
Being in Hollywood trips me out. You have a city where it takes 30 minutes to drive 2 miles, nothing but restaurants, clubs, and bars as far as the eye can see, and everyone and their mother trying to make it in the biz. It is like a bunch of wild animals out of their cage during feeding time. Smoke, drink, flirt, party party....But it is nice to know there are people who sift through the bullshit rather than get swept away.
I used to be into status, who knows who, who does what, how someone sounds, how someone looks, what it is. But after a while the glam fades and all you are left with is the truth. I really cannot say much more than that about it, and it is especially true for musicians. It is a shitty profession. You work long hours, late at night, no security, no benefits, and one of the steepest fucking learning curves ever to exist. All in the name of self expression. Weird I am here but it is what I wanted. I feel ok with it because it was my choice.
On a side note, fuzz pedals are fucking amazing for bass solos. I felt like a guitar player when I could hold out a note for more than a few seconds. Now to put that into jazz somehow.
I will leave you with an impromptu poem/artistic piece of crap that I will try to congure up
Intents and purposes
never make me the same again
Don't stop writing because you can't make a mistake
even when you do the mistake is a fleeting moment in time that defines that moment
Is there ever truly a mistake if whatever you were feeling at that point in time was represented by that so called "mistake"?
Are there ever really mistakes or just expressions of feeling off?
my back hurts, nighty night
Being in Hollywood trips me out. You have a city where it takes 30 minutes to drive 2 miles, nothing but restaurants, clubs, and bars as far as the eye can see, and everyone and their mother trying to make it in the biz. It is like a bunch of wild animals out of their cage during feeding time. Smoke, drink, flirt, party party....But it is nice to know there are people who sift through the bullshit rather than get swept away.
I used to be into status, who knows who, who does what, how someone sounds, how someone looks, what it is. But after a while the glam fades and all you are left with is the truth. I really cannot say much more than that about it, and it is especially true for musicians. It is a shitty profession. You work long hours, late at night, no security, no benefits, and one of the steepest fucking learning curves ever to exist. All in the name of self expression. Weird I am here but it is what I wanted. I feel ok with it because it was my choice.
On a side note, fuzz pedals are fucking amazing for bass solos. I felt like a guitar player when I could hold out a note for more than a few seconds. Now to put that into jazz somehow.
I will leave you with an impromptu poem/artistic piece of crap that I will try to congure up
Intents and purposes
never make me the same again
Don't stop writing because you can't make a mistake
even when you do the mistake is a fleeting moment in time that defines that moment
Is there ever truly a mistake if whatever you were feeling at that point in time was represented by that so called "mistake"?
Are there ever really mistakes or just expressions of feeling off?
my back hurts, nighty night
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Some random thoughts for your enjoyment
A had a few random thoughts tonight that really sparked my mind
1. Music isn't a competition, it is about self expression
2. It would suck to be the first guy to discover a poisonous plant
3. How do bad things happen to good people?
4. how can we end up being alone?
5. I forgot
6. What would have happened if it never had happened?
7. What are you thinking about when you are reading this?
8. eight was supposed to be really good so let's see if I can remember it by the time number 9 comes...
9. Nope...not yet.....
10. How can my mind be so conflicted with the truth?
11. Will lyme ever go away?
12. Will anyone ever care?
13. Too many questions and not enough statements.
14. My family has been through some shit
15. I've been through some shit
16. I am still going through shit
17. I think people like to hear about happy things....things that make you feel good, or them feel good. They don't want to hear about the struggle, the hard work, the loneliness, the things that make us human. But I like to hear about the struggle, the hard work, the agony and trials. I think its inspirational, I think it's what makes us grow as humans. To deepen our understanding of each other and the world around us. Why wouldn't you want to do that?
18. I was wondering what the meaning of life was but I kind of answered my own question.
19. How does everybody talk about fake people? If one person is talking about a fake person and then the other person who is being talked about is talking the person who saying they are a fake, what is it that? Do you know if you're fake?
20. How the fuck am I so different from everyone else. I used to think maybe it wasn't true or I didn't want it to be, but it really is true. I am different from a lot of people. I wonder why....
21. Could I ever make a good living being an artist....(million dollar question here)
22. I don't know the answer but I am still going to try....because when you're on the bed in the hospital and your heart rate is in the 30's, your lying there in pain and not sure if you will wake up tomorrow, and you dream of all the things you used to do, all the people you would see, the food you would eat, the places you would see, and the things you could do,....and you realize you haven't done any of it....and you really ask yourself with an honest open heart...."What have I done with my life?" and really mean every single word of that sentence....you never take the chance of a lifetime to get another shot at doing it, and fuck it up....because when the time comes where I have to ask myself that question again, I want to be happy with the answer.
1. Music isn't a competition, it is about self expression
2. It would suck to be the first guy to discover a poisonous plant
3. How do bad things happen to good people?
4. how can we end up being alone?
5. I forgot
6. What would have happened if it never had happened?
7. What are you thinking about when you are reading this?
8. eight was supposed to be really good so let's see if I can remember it by the time number 9 comes...
9. Nope...not yet.....
10. How can my mind be so conflicted with the truth?
11. Will lyme ever go away?
12. Will anyone ever care?
13. Too many questions and not enough statements.
14. My family has been through some shit
15. I've been through some shit
16. I am still going through shit
17. I think people like to hear about happy things....things that make you feel good, or them feel good. They don't want to hear about the struggle, the hard work, the loneliness, the things that make us human. But I like to hear about the struggle, the hard work, the agony and trials. I think its inspirational, I think it's what makes us grow as humans. To deepen our understanding of each other and the world around us. Why wouldn't you want to do that?
18. I was wondering what the meaning of life was but I kind of answered my own question.
19. How does everybody talk about fake people? If one person is talking about a fake person and then the other person who is being talked about is talking the person who saying they are a fake, what is it that? Do you know if you're fake?
20. How the fuck am I so different from everyone else. I used to think maybe it wasn't true or I didn't want it to be, but it really is true. I am different from a lot of people. I wonder why....
21. Could I ever make a good living being an artist....(million dollar question here)
22. I don't know the answer but I am still going to try....because when you're on the bed in the hospital and your heart rate is in the 30's, your lying there in pain and not sure if you will wake up tomorrow, and you dream of all the things you used to do, all the people you would see, the food you would eat, the places you would see, and the things you could do,....and you realize you haven't done any of it....and you really ask yourself with an honest open heart...."What have I done with my life?" and really mean every single word of that sentence....you never take the chance of a lifetime to get another shot at doing it, and fuck it up....because when the time comes where I have to ask myself that question again, I want to be happy with the answer.
Monday, July 2, 2012
What's my story?
Oh man what a question....I feel like I could write a book, oh wait I am. Or I am saying I am writing a book, with a little plot, a little character development...some enemies become friends, some friends become enemies...
Alright, well that's enough of that. I will continue to tell my story thus far. I left off at Huntington Memorial Hospital. I was at the ER with my family after suffering a few months of mysterious pain. I sat in the ER room with my brother who drove me there. He had a burrito that he had bought and at this time I couldn't lift my arms so he fed it to me. Man, if there is something in this world so horrid it is having to be fed when you are a grown man. It was really humiliating. The act of simply being able to grab something and lift it up, do not ever take that for granted because if you do, holy shit man you could be in for world of trouble. So I sat for about an hour and was called in. They said it was fast track....basically an expedited visit. I don't know if you even see a doctor. Funny how when they asked me what was wrong and I replied "I can't use my arms" they thought it was a quick fix. I got sat next to a girl who cut her finger on a tin can....I felt helped....
My mom argued with the nurse to put me in the regular pile and see a real doctor. So back out I went and sat some more in the ER. I was looking around at the other people wondering if anyone had something as crazy as I did, whatever it was. At this point in my life I had never experienced this time of pain, nor for this long. My back ached, my muscles burned, and I could feel the fire tracing down the nerves in my arms and hands, also shooting down my back and legs. After another hour or so they sent me down to the rooms. I sat there and waited to see the MD. I got a nice nurse who gave me some pain medicine and that was that. After a while I saw the doctor and told him the story. About how the pain had just started in my left arm, but soon spread to my right and then my legs. My elbows burned and my hands were useless. I don't really remember what he said, but I had asked for an MRI of my arms or something and he said that he would if he could, but since I was in an HMO and my HMO was not contracted with his hospital they could not admit me. They called the hospital I could go to and spoke to the admitting attending. He didn't want to admit me. The ER MD told me this and asked if I wanted to speak to him. The conversation went something like this...
Doctor: "Why do you want to go into the hospital?"
Me "I can't use my arms! I haven't been able to for a few weeks and nobody can tell me why!"
Doctor "You need to see a neurologist! You don't want to go into the hospital! We can schedule you an appointment! And run tests!"
Me "UNLESS YOU CAN GET ME INTO SEE A NEUROLOGIST TOMORROW MORNING THEN I WANT TO GO INTO THE HOSPITAL! I CAN'T USE MY FUCKING ARMS AND CAN'T FUNCTION! I SWEAR TO GOD I"LL SUE YOUR ASS FOR NEGLIGENCE! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IF YOU COULDN'T USE YOUR ARMS FOR SHIT?!!?! I"VE BEEN PUSHED AROUND IN THIS BULLSHIT FOR TOO LONG! YOU NEED TO TAKE CARE OF THIS NOW!"
Doctor "...............ok"
So he hung up and an ambulance came for me a few hours later. By this time it was probably 8 or 9 at night and I still had no answers. I was wheeled in by a woman in her early 20's. I told her about my experience and she nodded and said that these things were common. She also told me that her family gets better treatment because she works in the medical field. He grandmother fell and went to the local ER. Since they knew the grandmother they took her back immediately and had her seen. What a system, I thought. So we arrived and I was wheeled in. I was so diligent about school at the time I had text-ed my math tutor to tell my teacher I was going into the hospital.
I rolled into the room. A scenery over the next 2 years I would become very familiar with. The linoleum walls, the IV pole. the call button, the small TV off in the upper corner of the ceiling. And the pain chart....numbered from 1-10 with faces to correlate how the pain felt....There was no face on there that matched mine, nor any number....I spoke to the doctor and told him what had been going on. He said he was not sure but maybe I did damage with my weight lifting days. He told me a neurologist would be in to see me in the morning. For the time being he offered pain medicine. I had never taken morphine before in my life. I had only ever smoked weed and drank alcohol. I had an IV line in my left arm and soon the nurse came into the room with a tiny vial. She inserted a needle into the vial and extracted the morphine.
"What's your pain level?" She asked
"A 9 or 10...." I said
"Well this will help."
She picked up the IV line and stuck the needle in. As soon as she did I felt a rush in my body. Like if someone had thrown me onto a roller coast and sent me down the biggest drop ever built. My body reeled for a moment. I instantly felt high, and as soon as the high kicked in my body started to heat up. After the brief rush of heat was an attack of nausea. What felt like 5 minutes was only 5 seconds. I just laid there in a daze for a few more moments and suddenly the pain wasn't as bad as before. Or maybe it was, I just didn't care. Either way it had worked for me. My mom was there with me. She was wearing this red velvet sweater/ It was funny because my mom doesn't usually dress up. Only when I am in the hospital, haha.
I had a roommate. He was an older white business man with glasses. I had asked him what happened and he told me about some weird genetic GI disorder where feces backs up in the intestines and sits and gets infected. Eventually it spreads into the body. He said he woke up feeling fine one day and then an hour later he was on the floor in pain. He was lucky he got saved. After a quick operation that involved tearing his intestines out he was on the road to recovery. I was shocked to hear that story. He asked me what was wrong with me and I told him my story. He didn't know what to say but said that I would get help here. He also told me to be an advocate for myself, and don't let the doctors push you around because they will. You know your body better than anybody.
I tried to sleep that night, I really did...but it never happened. I just sat there while my hands burned. I went over it again and again in my mind. Had I done something? Why was this happening? What was the answer? Was it the car accident 2 years ago? Was it playing bass? Was it carpal tunnel? Was I dying? What??? I think I fell asleep for 2 hours. But from that point on I was asking for morphine ever 4 hours. The thing that sucked about it was that the pain went away for only an hour or so, but they couldn't give you more than one dose every 4 hours. What a gip....But it was better than nothing.....
I can't do anymore. I have to try and practice a little while. Its weird to think about these things again. I guess its good I chronolog it. It is important for a person to reflect and evaluate their lives ever so often. As much as things suck now, it isn't as bad as that time. I am thankful for that.
If you're just reading this now the beginning is in some other posts. Check it out if you want to see the beginning.
Night
Alright, well that's enough of that. I will continue to tell my story thus far. I left off at Huntington Memorial Hospital. I was at the ER with my family after suffering a few months of mysterious pain. I sat in the ER room with my brother who drove me there. He had a burrito that he had bought and at this time I couldn't lift my arms so he fed it to me. Man, if there is something in this world so horrid it is having to be fed when you are a grown man. It was really humiliating. The act of simply being able to grab something and lift it up, do not ever take that for granted because if you do, holy shit man you could be in for world of trouble. So I sat for about an hour and was called in. They said it was fast track....basically an expedited visit. I don't know if you even see a doctor. Funny how when they asked me what was wrong and I replied "I can't use my arms" they thought it was a quick fix. I got sat next to a girl who cut her finger on a tin can....I felt helped....
My mom argued with the nurse to put me in the regular pile and see a real doctor. So back out I went and sat some more in the ER. I was looking around at the other people wondering if anyone had something as crazy as I did, whatever it was. At this point in my life I had never experienced this time of pain, nor for this long. My back ached, my muscles burned, and I could feel the fire tracing down the nerves in my arms and hands, also shooting down my back and legs. After another hour or so they sent me down to the rooms. I sat there and waited to see the MD. I got a nice nurse who gave me some pain medicine and that was that. After a while I saw the doctor and told him the story. About how the pain had just started in my left arm, but soon spread to my right and then my legs. My elbows burned and my hands were useless. I don't really remember what he said, but I had asked for an MRI of my arms or something and he said that he would if he could, but since I was in an HMO and my HMO was not contracted with his hospital they could not admit me. They called the hospital I could go to and spoke to the admitting attending. He didn't want to admit me. The ER MD told me this and asked if I wanted to speak to him. The conversation went something like this...
Doctor: "Why do you want to go into the hospital?"
Me "I can't use my arms! I haven't been able to for a few weeks and nobody can tell me why!"
Doctor "You need to see a neurologist! You don't want to go into the hospital! We can schedule you an appointment! And run tests!"
Me "UNLESS YOU CAN GET ME INTO SEE A NEUROLOGIST TOMORROW MORNING THEN I WANT TO GO INTO THE HOSPITAL! I CAN'T USE MY FUCKING ARMS AND CAN'T FUNCTION! I SWEAR TO GOD I"LL SUE YOUR ASS FOR NEGLIGENCE! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IF YOU COULDN'T USE YOUR ARMS FOR SHIT?!!?! I"VE BEEN PUSHED AROUND IN THIS BULLSHIT FOR TOO LONG! YOU NEED TO TAKE CARE OF THIS NOW!"
Doctor "...............ok"
So he hung up and an ambulance came for me a few hours later. By this time it was probably 8 or 9 at night and I still had no answers. I was wheeled in by a woman in her early 20's. I told her about my experience and she nodded and said that these things were common. She also told me that her family gets better treatment because she works in the medical field. He grandmother fell and went to the local ER. Since they knew the grandmother they took her back immediately and had her seen. What a system, I thought. So we arrived and I was wheeled in. I was so diligent about school at the time I had text-ed my math tutor to tell my teacher I was going into the hospital.
I rolled into the room. A scenery over the next 2 years I would become very familiar with. The linoleum walls, the IV pole. the call button, the small TV off in the upper corner of the ceiling. And the pain chart....numbered from 1-10 with faces to correlate how the pain felt....There was no face on there that matched mine, nor any number....I spoke to the doctor and told him what had been going on. He said he was not sure but maybe I did damage with my weight lifting days. He told me a neurologist would be in to see me in the morning. For the time being he offered pain medicine. I had never taken morphine before in my life. I had only ever smoked weed and drank alcohol. I had an IV line in my left arm and soon the nurse came into the room with a tiny vial. She inserted a needle into the vial and extracted the morphine.
"What's your pain level?" She asked
"A 9 or 10...." I said
"Well this will help."
She picked up the IV line and stuck the needle in. As soon as she did I felt a rush in my body. Like if someone had thrown me onto a roller coast and sent me down the biggest drop ever built. My body reeled for a moment. I instantly felt high, and as soon as the high kicked in my body started to heat up. After the brief rush of heat was an attack of nausea. What felt like 5 minutes was only 5 seconds. I just laid there in a daze for a few more moments and suddenly the pain wasn't as bad as before. Or maybe it was, I just didn't care. Either way it had worked for me. My mom was there with me. She was wearing this red velvet sweater/ It was funny because my mom doesn't usually dress up. Only when I am in the hospital, haha.
I had a roommate. He was an older white business man with glasses. I had asked him what happened and he told me about some weird genetic GI disorder where feces backs up in the intestines and sits and gets infected. Eventually it spreads into the body. He said he woke up feeling fine one day and then an hour later he was on the floor in pain. He was lucky he got saved. After a quick operation that involved tearing his intestines out he was on the road to recovery. I was shocked to hear that story. He asked me what was wrong with me and I told him my story. He didn't know what to say but said that I would get help here. He also told me to be an advocate for myself, and don't let the doctors push you around because they will. You know your body better than anybody.
I tried to sleep that night, I really did...but it never happened. I just sat there while my hands burned. I went over it again and again in my mind. Had I done something? Why was this happening? What was the answer? Was it the car accident 2 years ago? Was it playing bass? Was it carpal tunnel? Was I dying? What??? I think I fell asleep for 2 hours. But from that point on I was asking for morphine ever 4 hours. The thing that sucked about it was that the pain went away for only an hour or so, but they couldn't give you more than one dose every 4 hours. What a gip....But it was better than nothing.....
I can't do anymore. I have to try and practice a little while. Its weird to think about these things again. I guess its good I chronolog it. It is important for a person to reflect and evaluate their lives ever so often. As much as things suck now, it isn't as bad as that time. I am thankful for that.
If you're just reading this now the beginning is in some other posts. Check it out if you want to see the beginning.
Night
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