Dear hero imprisoned...

I realized early on in life that every one has a choice on what path they want to take in life. I was Seven years old when I knew what choice I would make. Memories of my childhood are a bit hazy. It’s probably because I started smoking pot at a very young age; I think that was the start of my “developmental” years. There are memories that I can revisit and vividly recall every word that was spoken, like a movie reel being rewound, like a song being replayed, I remember tones of voices, accents of words, emotion, and I remember all of those things in some of my memories. These memories haunt me, they eat away at me and make me wish I could go back in time and react differently or change the course of the people I love. I take solace in the fact that I feel like I’ve made some right choices in my life, I truly wish I could say the same for others.

I grew up in San Juan Capistrano, California. The city is known for it’s mission and beautiful basilica. When I tell people I grew up in south Orange County they immediately think of beautiful beaches, multimillion-dollar homes overlooking the ocean, strip malls, Mercedes Bens, and all things that acquired wealth can get you. These things exist in San Juan Capistrano and they always have. But behind the Orange curtain there is a hotbed of cultural heterogeneity. San Juan was an entirely different city when I was growing up. While up in the hills behind those gates that guarded the million dollar homes where families that went to sleep peacefully were calm and quiet; the neighborhoods below occupied by immigrant families of first generation Chicano men and women were swelling with violence.

Disenfranchised youth have always been the make up of gangs. In cities where wealth and poverty are so strikingly apparent, people want to belong to something bigger than them selves. It is one of the only ways to come to accept your lot in life. Gang culture has a lure that one can’t really explain; it’s romanticized in the mind because the outlaw-anti authority-camaraderie that one can only hope to feel at least once in their life is a reality to those living within the culture. Gangs in San Juan were a space for kids with absent parents to congregate and feel like someone cared for them; they cared about each other and if someone hurt one of them then retaliation was necessary. Imagine the closest thing you feel to a family member is killed by a group of people who you are told and taught to hate from the very second you are initiated. Revenge is what drives you, pain is familiar to you, and your future seems like it is not of any importance, because you are one of them.

My brother was one of those hurt kids; he was born to my mother, his dad left him and her when he was born and was hardly around while he was growing up. My mom had one more child with someone else before she met my father, and they’ve been together ever since. My brother was a fatherless kid with an unclear future ahead of him. Like I said; San Juan was different back then. Everyone knew someone in the gang or had a family member in the gang. The attraction to a group of friends willing to do anything for you isn’t hard to understand. My father and brother did not get along and I know my father feels some kind of regret for how things ended. I always got along with my brother. While he was out I used to sneak into his room and listen to his music that I knew I shouldn’t have been listening to at that age, but I was attracted to it. I fell in love with rap music. I fell in love with the message, because I knew my brother was living that lifestyle. I wanted to be like my brother. I looked up to him.

Eventually things at home got a little too out of hand and the tension between my brother and father got to be too much to handle. My brother was kicked out of the house and sent to live with my grandparents who lived in down town San Juan. Now I want to pause right here and have you imagine how my brother felt. He had no father growing up. He grew up in a household with two working parents. He was a part of a group of people that cared about each other and shared a bond with each other that no one else could be apart of. He is kicked out of his home. And by now I’m sure you can see this perfect storm brewing in his head.

I don’t exactly remember how long it had been since I saw my brother before he went away, in my memory it feels like days. I do remember the last time I saw him, when he got kicked out. He was angry and punched a hole in the wall. My grandparents came and picked him up and I knew I wouldn’t see him often anymore.  I didn’t know it would be the last time I would see him free.

Not long after my brother moved in with my grandparents, he and 3 of his friends took park in events that would cause an everlasting ripple effect on 5 families, and completely change the trajectory of all of our lives. The story goes like this: weeks prior to that night, a member of San Juan was shot at in his truck with his two kids in the passenger’s seat. The shooting was by the rival gang from San Clemente. In gang culture, women and children are not to be harmed in these turf wars.

On Sunday October 6^th 1996 my brother was hanging out at the local park where him and all of his friends hung out. One of his friends spotted out of towners at a gas station in town. This was a perfect time for revenge or to find out who shot at two kids in a car. So the idea was to let this altercation be an initiation for a new recruit, a 15-year-old kid. The 15 year old was given a gun in case things got a little too crazy. My brother took the gun from the kid and told him to sit in the back of the car; he was too young to handle something of this magnitude. They all got in the car and they rolled up to the gas station, and as they were pulling up; the other guys were pulling on to the free way. The group of friends decided that they were going to go looking for trouble, not on their turf. My brother recalls driving passed the freeway exits, watching them go by in short controlled bursts. Palm trees lined the free way and as the mission basilica faded away in their rearview mirror they knew that they were heading into no mans land. They lost the people they were following on the freeway. So they went to go look for them at the known hang out spots. My brother knew San Clemente, his dad was from there, and his other grandmother lived there. When the search seemed like it was coming to an end, my brother suggested one last spot that he knew of. They drove up to the spot and no one was there, as they sat at a red light ready to enter on to the freeway; they heard a whistle. They pulled out off the red light and approached a park where three kids were walking up and asking where they were from. “San Juan, Varrio Viejo” the guys in the car yelled. Knowing that would set them off, they got out of the car. That’s when they realized one of them had a gun. My brother knew that this was a decision that meant life or death; it was either he or the other guy with the gun. One boy was shot and fatally wounded. It was only a matter of seconds before the guys got piled into the car and drove off. When my brother told me this story, his words would pause in the most calculated places, as if he was living this event all over again. The way he said he knew this would be the last time he was free, the way he said he looked up at the palm trees that covered the rival’s streets that are so similar to ours. The vote was made to try to make it back to San Juan. I think they knew that they weren’t going to make it, but when you’re in trouble; home is where you feel safest. My brother told me that he knew he was done so he rolled a joint while Bone Thugs in Harmony (one of his favorite rap groups, and mine considering that was the main CD I looked for in his room while he was gone) played in the background. It didn’t take long for the highway patrol to do their job. My brother and 3 of his friends were stopped under the Ortega highway overpass on the 5 going northbound.

That night my mom, dad, second oldest brother, and I all went to celebrate my second oldest brothers birthday. I can still remember that night so clear. We ate at a local Pizza Hut and played arcade games. I played Bart Simpson on a Simpsons arcade game that was covered with oil from greasy hands. We spent a lot of nights at that Pizza Hut, but the mood in the air that night was different. We left early that night because my mom wasn’t feeling well. Looking back, I know it was intuition; a mother feeling their offspring in trouble. The way home took a little bit longer than usual, as there was traffic. I remember there was a traffic stop under us that seemed like a big deal. Traffic was at a dead stop as we made a left onto off of the Ortega exit onto the 5 northbound. My mom couldn’t sleep that night; she woke up vomiting, and had bad anxiety.

Monday October 7^th started out like a normal Monday. I remember waking up and starting my morning routine of begging my mom to let me stay home from school (I’ve always hated it). The phone rang; my mom answers “hello?” and remember when I said that there are some memories that I vividly remember? This is one of those memories. I remember exactly how she said “hello?” so innocently, as if it was the most innocent thing that could have come out of her mouth at that moment. She paused for a few seconds and she let out a big scream, “my baby! My baby!” my dad asked what was wrong. My mom fell to the floor crying. Even at the age of 7 I knew this was one of those turning points in my life. She told us that Michael had been involved in a murder and he’s in jail and doesn’t know if he’s ever going to get out. I remember the panic that she went into. She called my grandparents. She called her boss. She needed to take us to school. Life would never be the same again.

My mom spent most of what she had saved on a lawyer for Michael. She even borrowed money. We never had that much money, but she made it work. Michael and three of his friends all got charged with murder or second-degree murder. Two of them were 17, one 16, and the other 15. Michael was 17 years old when he went to jail. He was 17 when I last saw him outside. He is now serving a life sentence with out the possibility of parole.

A year later on the anniversary of my brother’s actions, his best friend was kidnapped by Varrio Chico (San Clemente) and tortured. His San Juan tattoos were cut off with a knife, and his tongue cut out as well. He was left against the wall facing the train tracks right across the street from the local private Christian school. I think that was the nail on the coffin of that era of gang violence in San Juan. There have been multiple gang related deaths since then, but not as frequent or as brutal as the mid 90’s.

I’m not sure what the point of me writing this is. I think I needed to purge my self of all these conflicting thoughts in my head. I remember for a while after I wanted to get revenge on these people that made my brother do what he did to get put away forever. I remember wanting to be a part of that group of people that cared about each other, that went down with together. My mother was caught up in my brother’s court case the rest of my elementary school years. I remember asking my self if anyone else in my school was going through the same things I was going through. I remember one instance where my 3^rd grade teacher tried to get on my case about me not doing my homework, I finally broke down and cried to her about how I spent the night visiting my brother in jail, talking to him behind glass.

I know my mom tried to juggle her imprisoned son, her two growing boys and growing daughter, a job, and her marriage.  We all came out ok, not unscathed, but ok. I just knew I never wanted to make my mom feel the way my brother made her feel, I made that decision at a young age. Later on, years after my brother had settled into his new life; he confided in me that none of his actions were worth it. That him and his friends were a group of hurt kids channeling their anger in violent ways. Few if any of his friends have talked to him since that day. His position is a constant reminder of a terrible decision he made when he was 17, and that he has seen the aftermath of his actions and the ways it’s left it’s mark on my family.

He’s spent more time in prison than he has spent outside of one.  So I try my best to live for him.

Check

If anyone's still out there (no one is) and has read my previous posts I've talked lots about "getting back into writing in this blog". Don't hold your breath (no one will). This thing is such a giant undertaking and it's narcissistic, ugly, and boring. I've been writing in this thing since I was 17. This year is 10 years on this blog. What should I do? (nothing) What's changed? (nothing) I feel as though I have lost something in me the last couple of years, a lack of drive, a lack of sleep, a lack of care, mostly I feel like I lost a part of my self. I'm hard to deal with as a person, think about how hard I am to deal with in my own head. These thoughts aren't mine, they are mine. See?

My ailments do not escape me. It's like a cancer, stuck with it, taking chemicals to suppress it, but it's a reminder that sometimes genetics deals a hand that will fuck your life. I wake up in a cycle, 3 AM, 4 AM, 5 AM, 6 AM, then by 7 AM I'm too over it to fall back asleep. Every day. It's been this way for a long time.

A side effect of bipolar disorder is ADD like symptoms, I've lost the desire/patience/focus to read as much, write as much, and even think as much. I feel like I am watching my brain just getting more and more fucked the longer I stay alive.

I've lost the desire to write. 

III (now IV) AM

Here's something not that many people know about me. I have roots deep in the city I'm from. My family was one of the first families in San Juan Capistrano. My mother and her 9 siblings grew up in the mission while my grandfather was a groundskeeper there. Anyone from southern california/Orange County at one point has heard "this land used to be nothing but orange groves", well my mom lived it and from what I can tell it was a better time. My grandfather helped paint the inside of the giant church when they were renovating it. I remember going into that church when I was a child, granted I was always bored during sermons I vaguely remember taking into account every corner, every rippled in the wooden doors and alters, and how the holy water sat in a bowl made of marble. I suppose that's what happens when you're bored, you just sit and entertain your self. Now the church has since gotten an entire altar made of wood covered by gold, the talent of the artists who created this 42 foot high gold altar is not lost on me.

Anyway, I'm just writing that to get away from the thoughts in my head. Nothing new, nothing different, just the same psychological Machiavellianism showing it's head in my life again. I don't know if it's cause I'm still hurt about everything, or my mind is so used to the conflict and shit in my head that I create these problems when in reality there is nothing wrong at all. I wake up every night at 3 AM, whether you're sleeping next to me or not, like clockwork, I don't know what it is. My anxiety just wakes me up at that time because a lot of bad that's ever happened to me has happened around that time. Time goes by fast when you're trying to go back to sleep but can't quite get there. 

I can't write, I can't really create, these days pictures are the only thing I feel that can convey anything in my head, whether its a sense of longing for something more or just the way a bird flies from darkness into the light. I have nothing, no words, too many thoughts, and not enough energy to do much else. 

I see a darkness.

Until next time.

ADC

Children of God recently embarked on our first tour as a band. After four years of existence; it's about time to get away and show other cities what you've spent your years on. Tour was filled with a lot of emotions, I think we all enjoyed our selves and we all already mesh well with each other, so other than outside forces, there was really nothing wrong. The turn outs were small and that was expected, but the turn outs were people that really wanted to be there and people that were really looking forward to watching us. 

This was the first tour I went on where I was the voice of the band; like literally singing every night and ruining my throat every. night. I handled it a lot better than I thought I would and my voice bounced back pretty quickly. 

The chemistry we have in this band is something I cherish and is something that only strengthens through time. We can sit in vans for hours on end, discussing anything and everything, or we can sit there in complete silence, staring out the window, reading, taking photos, listening to music, but we're there. We are never not around each other physically but mentally I think we all get into our heads. Surrounded alone. 

Now with tour having ended, it's back to the monotony of day to day life; work, school, exercising, trying to watch your calorie intake, the bane of existence. 

I've been supplementing my non-musical outlet with taking photos. So far I have been pretty happy with the outcome. 

I am done with writing right now. 

Nothing new here

25.

Never thought I'd make it this far. Quarter life; what a scary thought. I have a few more of these to go until I presumably can retire. I spent my 25th year here, in New York. I found my self thinking of whether or not I'd live there. The jury is still out. Life right now is what you'd expect of a mid 20's sober vegan, uneventful (not complaining) and monotonous (again, not complaining).

There's nothing new here.

I'm listening to Holy Sons - I Just Want to Live a Peaceful Life...it has been one of the best records I have ever encountered by accident.

25.

Nothin's changed.

Life is but a sick joke played on those that dream.

I suppose I'll just get right into it. I didn't check to see what I wrote about in the previous entry, doesn't matter. For those of you that still read this; hello. I haven't been writing because I've been busy being up and down, left and right, all around. Let's cut the shit, life is shitty. It's what you do in between those inevitable slaps in the face that make it worth living. Well, what if you don't feel like you're making use of that time? I don't know. I feel that way, then I started to just look forward to those slaps in the face. I'm a masochist. As much as I'd hate to admit it I have grown accustomed to all of the let downs, heart breaks, failures, manic episodes, depressions, mood swings, complete and total shittyness of life. I organize my life around those (you know, life sucking), because you're fucking blind if you think you're invincible from any of that. What do I do in between that? I write about it, I sing(?) about it, I write music for it, I catalogue each and every one of those times where I stared into the barrel of an imaginary gun and wanted to blow my brains out. "Do what makes you happy" seems to be the saying of anyone who s looking on the bright side that day. Well, I do what makes me happy and then something or someone (or even my self) fucks it all up.

I haven't talked to my mother in almost 7 months. I doubt I will. I'm slowly finding out that I have severe trust issues (brought on upon years of abandonment, negligence, and unfaithfulness), all this is the catalyst for every argument I have with someone (or again, my self) I find is being shitty to me. I don't think it's being made up ib my head, I've never been a push over and that's probably why not a lot of people like me but I'm alright with being that person that sits in a room of people all kissing each others asses.

I've lost the desire to write.

Maybe you'll hear from me again, maybe not.

Will the Light Take Us

Things have been hectic around these parts; hectic in a good way. Children of God has been on an all out assault on promoting the new record. You kind of have to whore your self out when you invest money into putting out your own record. COG got featured in OC Weekly and so far the responses to the new record have been good.

As far as my personal life, there's been highs and lows, but there's nothing new with that. I have been meaning to write in this a lot more but balancing time is kind of hard when you spend all day answering emails and trying to stay active. We even have an excel spread sheet, what the fuck is wrong with me?

Also my friends in Braveyoung and my self are putting out their record titled "Will the Dust Praise You". I am honored to be a part of this project, I have been good friends with them since the Giant days and they are truly a blessing to have in my life.

Here's a link to the new record stream.

Here's a link to order it directly from us.

Playlist lately:
Nails - Abandon All Life (get stoked, this record fucking rules)
Mono - For My Parents
Mono/World Ends Girlfriend - Palmless Prayer/Mass Murder Refrain
Neurosis - The Eye of Every Storm
Braveyoung - Will the Dust Praise You

That's all.

Juxtopposition

I have good days and I have bad days, today was more of the latter. I woke up feeling a little off but I tried to shake it to keep my self from self sabotage. Well, here I am in my cave listening to depressing compositions with 3 sleeping pills in my body nodding off waiting for them to take me to bed completely.

I think they're working. Hopefully these keep me down for the night.

There was no point to this confession/post.

All things to those who wait.

Life is ok at the moment.

Through the wind...

I often find my self thinking about why I do the things I do. Why do I play music? Why do I enjoy creating an extension of my dark emotions to listen to over and over and over, looping them and adding to them, trying to make them darker, louder, quieter, more subtle, more abrasive, or more listenable. Writing music for me has always been a way to purge my self of what is in my head, but I've recently been entrenched in making what's in my head bigger and stronger, so much that I give it a life of its own. I can only liken it to a dog disobeying its master, eventually its primal nature kicks in and it turns on you. That's what music does to me, although I never thought my music would have the power to do that to me.

I decided that I wanted to create a song that encompasses how I've been feeling lately...I'm at the 12 minute mark and the people I have shown have told me it was dark. I'm going to see how long this song will be...I'm not done with it until I feel like it's done being written.

This post was originally written about a week ago, I drafted it cause I didn't want to write on it anymore.

Here I am a week later, I haven't worked on that song lately...the song title is called "Nothing's Sacred". The title is pretty self explanatory.

It's funny to think about how much my life has changed since...well...since yesterday and the day before and so on and so forth. I would rather spend my time inside my room listening to records, allowing my self to get in my head (embracing it); than be out or around people to take my mind off of everything going on inside my head (rejecting it). I was in a very dark place the other week, one not unlike the ones I used to go to when I was unmedicated, it's a humbling feeling; to know that your bodies chemistry can control you that much, nature dictating your life and literally having your life be at the mercy of nature. I suppose life is funny like that, right?

In other news Children Of God recorded an LP. Since this is my personal blog, I don't care about spoiling anything (nothing to spoil) because no one reads this thing (no one to spoil it to). The album's title is called "We Set Fire To The Sky". The lyrical content of this record is a lot more personal and introspective than anything else I've written and at times the lyrics are not coherent but that doesn't matter to me as I mostly write these words to get my thoughts on paper. I chose the album title because I think that we as a species being so small in the grand scheme of things (although the most destructive) look to the sky for answers, whether it's studying the stars or believing in Christ we see the sky as our life line and answerer of all the questions we have. When I thought of the name I liked the visual idea of literally setting fire to the sky, setting fire to everything every one of us looks to for answers, because our answers can only be found within ourselves...and we can only come to any relevant conclusion for our life when we fully have an understanding of ourselves. So we set out to destroy everything on earth as a species, let's destroy our answers to life's questions, let's allow ourselves to have nothing to ask questions to, nothing but ourselves.

I'm proud of this new record and I've always believed what Neurosis says: "If you don't make a record that you think eclipses your last record....then you've failed."

That's all.

I've been...busy.

I don't remember the last time I wrote here, I suppose it's a good thing when you don't have the time to sit around and think about your on line blog that nobody reads. I'm really only writing in this because I woke up this morning only to realize my leg was hurting, so that means no cycling for me, no 6 AM rides, no terrible tan lines, no climbing hills asking my self "what the fuck are you doing to your self?". None of it and I'm bummed about it.

I suppose I should catch those of you who still read this up. I've traveled a bit here and there, been riding a lot, and creating a lot. There's something in me that drives me to want to always convey how I'm feeling through music, whether it's to an audience or it's for my own listening pleasure.

I just moved in to a new place, by work, by the beach, where I'm able to hole up in my room. I never had my own room until I was about 18. Then there's this big gap where I didn't and now I'm 24 and back at that point. I think I've grown accustomed to not having my own space, so I create to allow my self that space.

COG was writing for an LP and we just recorded, I'm very proud of this record. Lyrically it is unlike any thing else I've ever done. Musically, it is an evolution and collaboration of everything else I've done. I really am proud of this record. I have a good feeling about it. I don't see us headlining the main stage at any of your big fests any time soon but I know I like it. We are self releasing this record and it may or may not be a wise idea but I won't ever feel artistically fulfilled until I release my own record. The art work is done by Thomas Hooper. I don't think I can thank him enough for his contribution and dedication to art and the underground music scene. To have someone who's art I've always admired and who's done art work for bands like Neurosis and Doomriders and many other great artists, is truly a gift.

I recently saw Tim Hecker, Pan•American, and Loscil on one of my recent travels. Seeing performance artists like that is a completely new world. It felt great to sit at a show and just close my eyes and lose my self in the music. I couldn't stop listening to TH's Harmony In Ultraviolet for a week straight after that.

I think that is all for now.

XXIV

Today is my date of birth.

Whenever this day approaches I sink into depression, close off, reflect, regret, whatever. I'm writing this from work, not by choice but because my co worker forgot that he was going to cover me. I usually ask for this day off not because I think I'm owed it, I just don't really like being around too many people today, so here I am. I hate the "it's my birthday" mentality that so many people feel entitled to, gifts, well wishes, good thoughts, cards, dinners, lunches, favors, drinks, and all that stuff. I don't really tell many people it's today but thanks to social media I feel thought about once a day. I'm grateful that people care, I just don't like that mentality that they owe it to me to say something nice today.

I saw Gorilla Biscuits and Quicksand yesterday at the Revelation showcase that was being held this weekend. It coincided perfectly with my turning of age. I was 14 when I was first introduced to a band on Revelation Records and that band was Gorilla Biscuits. Before I got into that era of hardcore I was a more metal influenced hardcore kid, considering that time period and the scene at the time I was introduced to some horrible stuff, some stuff I still like, and some stuff that I listen to cause of nostalgia but I understand the steps we all had to take to get to where we are. Last night was like a complete circle being made. It's been a long time since I've worn my Youth Of Today X'd up fist hoodie that I so proudly wore in high school and although I listen to Revelation bands a lot less than I used to, last night was the perfect night to re-visit that music. I got to stage dive to Gorilla Biscuits and sing along. I heard the opening trumpets of New Direction live. I used to sit in the backseat of my parents car while we were on road trips holding a cd player that had Start Today in it, reading the lyrics, looking at the pictures of people jumping around. Everything was so tangible then and now it's youtube, twitter, messageboards, instagram, and this. There's no need to be anywhere cause somewhere someone is writing about it. I suppose that's what separates the herd, people that still enjoy being somewhere and experiencing things as opposed to just hearing about it.
Quicksand was amazing, flawless, so fluid, Walter is one of the most talented musicians in the underground scene and I truly appreciate his music, his time, and dedication to his craft.

I'm done. If you're reading this, sorry to rant. Hope you all have a good June 11th. 

Ambitions

It's been a while. I suppose now's a good time to do a recap on the year.

I can't believe 2011 is gone. Years go by fast for me now but the days go by particularly slow. It's crazy to think that I'm almost 24...almost. There's still time to do something drastic.

I got a lot done in 2011; particularly with my outlets and stress relievers. Musically I have grown and physically I'm in the best shape I have ever been in (still not where I want to be) my life. It's hard to pin point my accomplishments this year and what I've got done but it's been a lot.

COG released our split LP with Seven Sisters Of Sleep and I think it's done us well. COG has released one release per year since we've been a band and hopefully it stays that way. We aren't exactly a song writing or touring machine but that's kind of what I wanted to avoid. I never want to force creativity and I never want to hinder the true emotion that goes into playing the music (touring). I want every show to be unique in its own way and I want to feel honest every time we play the music. I honestly cannot see us ever touring on a large scale but I'm not completely against it. I'm content with playing one off shows every now and then and focusing on writing music we're all happy with.

I have jumped into cycling head first. I recently finished my first century (100 mile ride) and in a really good time. It helps having very fit friends to push you and inspire you. I have put in a ton of miles this year (4000+) and I can't get over how much it hurts/how good it feels when I ride my bike. I bit the bullet and invested in a new bike this year and it has been one of the best decisions I have ever made. If I keep up with my ride averages or if I get faster I might start to gain enough confidence to ride in a race or something. A triathlon is still my main goal but cycling is just that, it's cycling...as fast as you can for about 2-3 hours and feeling that lactate build up in your legs and asking your self "what the fuck do I do to my self?" every 30 minutes. If you aren't suffering...you aren't cycling, you're just riding your bike.

I got to see a lot of fucking cool bands this year and had a lot of amazing musical inspirations click in my head. I also got to see (and touch) Morrissey again which has always been a pleasure. Seeing Neurosis twice this year was one of the coolest things I have ever gotten to do. I saw Scott Kelly play in this small little bar in Long Beach about a month ago and that definitely got my urge to release some sort of "solo" stuff soon...I've just been too busy. I got to play with my friends bands more notably Brave Young and I finally made a trip out there to see them...I love those guys with all my heart.

I also went through a few of the toughest points in my life so far (it only gets worse) with losing loved ones and almost losing my self. Every day is a struggle but somehow some way I find the strength to wake up at ungodly hours and keep pushing.

I try to appreciate all the times I don't feel like shit (I'm distracted) and try to hold on to them for as long as possible.

NEWS:
So on to this new year...with new years comes new aspirations, new disappointments, new obstacles, new victories and a lot more defeats but while I'm stuck on this greying rock what the hell else am I going to do?

COG will be getting a practice space very soon and that means we will be going into hibernation mode to finish writing our new record. If you've seen us lately we have been playing a couple of songs that will be on this new record and they are very...different but it is all part of the evolution. We will be incorporating visuals into our shows after this record comes out. These are all part of an experience that I want people to walk away with, I want people to be upset that they have to sit through our set or I want them to "get" what we're doing and enjoy everything that we're doing. I think this band will be a whole new monster after this year and it can only get better in my eyes as a search for more in depth self reflection just brings songs out of us...I just want honest art now and these days it's hard to come in contact with that.

I want to write more this year...hopefully time lends itself to me...or rather creativity allows me to accomplish this.

I'm done.

I'll try not to be a stranger...

Through out my 23years of existence I have grown so accustomed to the chaotic, emotionally unstable, indecisive roller coaster I like to call life.

What does that mean exactly? It means that I have this ability to feel shiftless, restless, and anxious when everything is going just fine. I feel restless, bored, tired, and ready for new things to come all at the same time. It's a shitty feeling, knowing that I am at ease but I am not ready for it yet.

The days have been going by so fast and life seems to be going by so slow all at the same time.

I'm seeing a new therapist, she's great. I feel refreshed after talking her ear off.

I have finally buckled down (well, naturally) and started writing new COG material, it's...different. The emotions are the same but they are more matured, the music is different and the approach is a lot more different. The show we have coming up should be a good indicator of things to come. I hate deadlines being put on anything creative that I do but I'll just say the stuff should be out sooner than later.

Other things: I have been really getting into cycling...like on a jock level. Riding my bike produces the same chemicals in my brain that playing music does, it keeps me occupied, it's a good release. The suffering and pain that goes along with cycling is a sign of my personality, climbing up a hill and feeling your legs burn, reaching the peek and then finally sitting down in your saddle and then it's time to shift back up to gain some speed...after all "It never gets easier, you just go faster."

I have made two giant purchases recently, one being a new bike and a new camera. Both of these are taking over my creative side and good results should follow.

I've also been reinforcing my jock lifestyle by going to gym as well..although I don't do much weight lifting. I do spin class and do very light weight work...it feels good.

I have a tumblr now to showcase what photography skills I do have...again a slow process.

I think that's about it.

Bye.

no miracles here

I've been off and on lately (nothing new) but more than normal and more serious than normal. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've put my self in exile. People don't matter much to me anymore (not people in the general sense, just certain people) and I can't think of any reason why they should. The whole past month has been a complete blur. The only good thing to come of it is a new project (weird right?) that I am incredibly excited about. I feel like this project puts everything I have ever done musically to shame. It's relaxing to play and when we play together I get a very euphoric feeling, as if I'm floating and escaping from everything. I don't know. It's just the way it feels. I wrote my songs when I was feeling extremely depressed and that's actually how this band came about, just a desperation of needing to release my emotion.

Things seem to be going pretty good for COG we have a split with Seven Sisters Of Sleep coming out later this year and we are doing a big record release show with Gehenna, Nails, SSOS, Mistake, and Creatures. Other than those things things have been going slow at the COG camp, school is starting, work is calling, and life is ending. I haven't felt angry lately therefor no new music has been written and I've pretty much neglected all things COG so for the 2 of you that are waiting for no news, I apologize.

I'm done.

Dead end

lonesomer

I guess today was a productive day. I saw two Doctors, one to reinforce how mentally fucked I am and one to tell me (guess) what was wrong with me. I've been out of commission for the past week due to this sickness. I've had a very low energy level, sore throat, terrible sleeping patterns, mucus, everything was just going to shit. I'm on antibiotics now and I'm waiting for them to make me feel better.

This being sick thing has kept me from being outside riding my bike, running, swimming, exercising, keeping my mind occupied, this means that I've had a lot of time to run around in circles in my head. I have not been well mentally and I think it starts to show when I'm physically ill, it takes a lot for me to keep that mask up.






I took pictures of my neighborhood tonight, places I used to play when I was a little kid. It helped a little to sit there and think about being a little kid again and smelling the summer air that was the same air that kept me alive then and now.

If only things were like they were back then right?

the weight of loss is whole

I've been neglecting this blog for various reasons, mostly because I've been too busy getting my life situated. It's hard to find time to care when there's not much to care about. To summarize my life since I last wrote here: everything has been a mess. I've fallen into one of those cycles...if you've been keeping up with this blog at all (I doubt anyone has) you know what I mean.

I had to put one of my cats to sleep on Tuesday. It has effected me more than I ever thought it would. Being in the room petting her knowing I would never see her again was just too much to handle at that moment in time, all I could do is tear up and be there for her in her last moments. Now I replay that moment in my head everyday, every minute, every hour. I'm a dweller, I can't let things go, I wish I could but once anything enters my mind I can't shake it. My mind won't let me forget the sound she made when she went. That night our other cat (one of her kittens) was crying and I could sense that she felt the loss. I've been sleeping all day and going to sleep as much and as early as possible. I can't stop tearing up thinking about my cat that I brought home to my mom 9 years ago. I'll never see her again and it's killing me.

Chris Owens - Amp Extraordinaire

This past Friday and Saturday COG recorded 5 songs, 3 that will be on a split and 2 that we have no idea what we're going to do with yet.

We were fortunate enough to have our friend Dez let us use his old house in Northern OC to record live. Dez is one of the coolest guys I have met within the past 5 years. The Cabin is my favorite place to play in OC and is definitely a staple in the OC underground scene right now.

We recorded our record with Chris Owens and when he wasn't talking about gear, be it recording or guitar/bass he was standing on couches listening for the right acoustics in the room and taping mics to the floor and the wall, the guy knows his stuff. I've listened to the rough mix about 10 times now and it already sounds infinitely better than anything we have done...musically and sound wise. The best part about this recording session is that we were Chris's first project since he's moved from Louisville to LA in order to pursue his porn career.

The split should be out by October and the two songs we don't know what we're doing with yet...well maybe they'll never come out. Who knows.

All things must end.

So the newest news I can think of is me moving. The inevitable has came, our foreclosed on house is now owned by the bank. We are being paid to move out by the end of this month. I suppose everybody has a price, right?

I'm at a loss at the moment, couch surfing and random sleep overs will have to suffice for the time being until I figure out what I want to do. It's not the most desirable way to live but neither is paying too much for rent. OC has high rent rates so it's hard coming to terms paying $800 for a room. I'd like to stay in south county so I can limit my car use and ride my bike a lot more. Brian and I have been riding like crazy and it's definitely helped me become a better rider.

In June Brian, AJ, and I are going to be taking a trip to Greensboro North Carolina to visit our friends in Braveyoung and tag along with them for a string of shows across the east coast. It's been about 6 years since I've been there and I'm glad I'm finally going back after years of saying I would.

I have been writing my ass off for this new COG release and I will say it's different but stuff I like to and want to play. We have a split coming out soon, as soon as we record our side (procrastinating).

Ride, Run, Ride, Run, Run, Run, Ride, Run, Ride, Run...that's my week in a nutshell. You'd think I look like a model now but I don't because my eating habits are shit.

Fuck it.
Playlist:
Refused - Shape.../Songs...
Red House Painters - Bridge
Neurosis - Times Of Grace
Jesu - Conqueror
Have A Nice Life - Deathcounsciousness
Integrity - Systems Overload
OM - Conference Of The Birds
Amenra - II/III