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Clearing Mental Space

Trying to get my creative juices flowing. I know one sure fire way is to just journal. It is so difficult for me to do at times though. My mind is honestly full of some dense heavy shit, that does not get lighter to sift. My mom just asked me if I would really be willing to change her diapers if and when it got to that; Because one of the people she’s seeing next week, is a surgeon for her hernias. It would actually be a better case scenario for them to elect to do any type of surgery, because the hernias are something that is causing her a lot of suffering. She will be very reluctant herself, which I feel confident about, that she isn’t going to dive into just any blind circumstance. Still; there is a high level of unknowability. I told her that I would be willing to change her diapers given that she was still mentally present. That’s even hard for me to discern, knowing of a true story where a man was fully mentally present, but stuck inside himself in such a way that he could not let others know he was there, for a full 10 years, and then came back to full function.- Though if I personally were in that situation, I might prefer to be excused. And also, if she were in that situation, she would not be able to let us know if she was in any pain. The pain itself takes her away from conscious presence. Right now, her pain is more than I would want to accept as the new normal. She still wants to fight for her life, but it’s more because of being daunted by the idea of giving up, than of truly wanting to continue. The actual breakdown of events is such that I still believe it’s possible for her to have more better days.

Feelings Stupid

I was just thinking about Crostiare, and it made me realize that the concept of sloppy seconds applies to so many different aspects. I was the sloppy second one in his heart. The one he hired just to warm the empty spot, and i actually believed the whole time he was semi cheating on her by sext; That he loved me back, even though it was like a constant painful realization that he picked her over me.- That the whole year before she existed to him, he didn’t take a chance on me. So then, in the end, he ghosts me, then he attributes missing me to her. I had a great knack for explaining all of this in a way that doesn’t humiliate my feelings butt i bare it all right now

Alto Zone

My family is already so small, and Steve was 64. My aunt Peg is 63 and she has told me that she plans to live for another 30 years, and just the fact that she and Steve were so close in age, makes me feel less confident in her statement. I know we can’t possibly know these things, but it’s a very comforting thing for her to even think.
Steve and Cathy just adopted a child 2 years ago and now that poor little guy lost another parent. His mom died. -Was actually the ex girlfriend of my uncle’s step son.. Still somehow looked just like him
My mom kind of changed her tune about this cancer treatment process after Steve died too. She used to say that she would take chemo until chemo wouldn’t work on her anymore. I guess that criteria is more relative than I realized/ She was saying if this remission isn’t long enough- we have this number in our heads 10 months, because it was her first and longest remission… If the remission is short, it’s not worth her while to fight it anymore and asks for my compassion to accept this
there is still this chance, and I don’t know how big the damn slice of pie is….that the remission will last at least 10 months. I did a lot of research on these drugs…. The reason they have to switch drugs is because the cancer develops immunity to them. Studies have finally shown what I fucking told them 2 years ago- The drugs are more effective when you alternate them more instead of using the same one constantly.. They kind of already knew that, but they were weighing its significance between being the most impactful drug on the market, thus in the cycles of abstention, would the less effective drug shave off more time than the alternation would add? ughh. Also, when cancer returns after treatment, and is expected to keep returning, they consider remission not the main goal anymore; Second line treatments are supposed to be milder- easier to tolerate and less of a depletion in quality of life, though these milder drugs will not keep the cancer away for as long as the more abrasive treatments would… . It’s a math problem. It’s kind of simple for algebra sake, but soo complicated for life. Anywho, in this clinical trial, she took one of the first line drugs, taxol, along with the study drug which is already known to negate the cancer’s immunity to taxol- so it’s now more a queston of whether the study drug is as effective as the drug they gave her with the taxol the first time…

Also, recently i’ve gone through this phase where it seems like i’m pushing everyone away..? But i mostly did not intend it. I’m re-trippin over the Jheap dude fading out of my life cold- without telling me whyy.
He ssked me for a picture of my butt and i sent one, and also a pornographic spanking image and i said, if I’m going to show you my butt, i want you to imagine doing this to it. My best guess with him is that he just couldn’t get down with those interests, and we have known each other now for ... holy shit 10 years. So he does know i won’t be satisfied in my life with a lover who is not willing to partake in my kind of play..

The reason I’m re-trippin is because Crostaire faded out the same way... known him for 9 years. i’m pretty sure i’m not overly intense because more people are into it than not.

Within this same time frame, i had discord with both Butter and Deep at the same time. I just staryed talking to Deep yesterday. Butter and i tried to reconcile last weekend, but at the end of our visit, we had another fight
I alsp pushed Angel and Nile away by reacting so emotionally to their critique of my song, which; i would rather their honesty than kid gloves. Angel and Nile both pushed their way back in by initiating a different conversation .... which i do appreciate . I don’t know if it’s me being more volatile -reactive than usual? I don’t feel any different, i just notice that i am the only common denominator in this string of similar situations.
My mom says I’m a self examiner, and that so many other people never take one look at themselves
I’d rather know. With this music project, I’ve learned one crucial thing about myself in life. It really turns me upsidedown when other people are harder on me than I am on myself, and the best way to prevent that is to make sure I’m aware of the flaws and shortcommings on myself, so someone else doesn’t have a chance to shock me with a truth hurts.

PlacationCollapse )

All Night

Wild Man

My uncle Steve died the other day. It was a shock to us, he did not want us to know he was sick unless something happen. He was my godfather, and his wedding anniversary is on my birthday. The last time I saw him was on Easter. He put air in my bicycle tires for me, despite all that he already had to do with packing up their car to leave. I can barely register that he’s gone, because he’s not usually around. I think it will hit me when I see his family without him.
All this has had my mom pretty upset. She still hasn’t had another good day since that one I wrote about in my last update. She also broke it to me that she doesn’t plan to do treatment for the next cancer recurrence, so the hope is magnified for this remission to actually last awhile. We have 10 months in our minds because that’s the longest remission she’s had, and that was achieved with one of the same drugs as she was treated with this time around. I’m so afraid. At least it’s actually up in the air this time, instead of already smashed on the ground, (my hope). She had so much fight in her this time…. And she has always said before, that she would continue fighting the cancer until the treatment stopped working, so it came as a shock to hear that. Breath of relief though, her blood test results are in, and her CA125 is at 7.
I’m still so very nervous. The study drug has already been proven to “synergize” the taxol, and reverse immunity that the cancer has built towards it. This is already known to be true. In which case, it is all contingent upon TAS119 VS Carboplatin. She is now platinum resistant, so carboplatin won’t do anything for her anymore, but there is a certain order in which the drugs are classified. Most effective, most abrasive… I worry that this was the wrong decision in that it was so abrasive that it wore her out more than a less potentially effective treatment would have. It’s really hard to calculate quantity of life saved, and what fraction of that the quality is sacrificed. I mean, the Gemzar was supposed to be a more tolerable treatment, but that seemed just as hard on her, if not moreso, than this. Constant diarrhea is difficult, no doubt, but marginally less so than not being able to keep a single bite down from the other end. We were constantly visiting the ER while she was on Gem.

This New Hope

There is this new set of possibilities that are tangible to us now; That haven't been in a long while, and it's really difficult for me to allow myself to grasp them, for fear they are too good to be true.
Everyone believes we'll have a disney ending, and that everything will be okay, I can't help but roll my eyes. So cliché.
My heart is so squeezed over this, I can barely stand to look at it head on; It has been stifling my entire flow, which is also something I've come to resent; Because its like, why can't I just accept these gifts and have my hopes reinstilled? We've been groomed to expect the cancer to come back, but still I am thankful that it is barely visible, and that it is still only one tiny spot. -Too small to even radiate,even now that they've come out with this new ability to micro radiate.

Melodic Silence

In the past I was very familiar with the concept of having to break open the center of my pain in order to discover beauty and creativity. It has been more difficult for me to do this now, because it isn’t always the case. I’ve found that certain types of frustration yield further and deeper frustration to delve into. I’m not sure what type of thing this is…
The other day, my mom felt good again for the first time in years.;that her mind was clear. She was so excited to ponder on all these different random things. We both felt a delayed reaction of sadness for how far gone she had been for so long. We both missed her so much. I was forcing my mind and heart to get used to the idea of her being gone, and to not expect her to come back. Perhaps for my preservation reflex; I felt like pushing her away. I resisted doing so, but told her about it when she asked how I was feeling. Later that night, she said she felt herself fading away again. She realized this was a dissociation from the pain in her body. I don’t know how many moments of clarity she will get. I didn’t realize it would be so brief. I hope she can stay for longer. I pray that these moments become the rule rather than the exception.
He said, "Anyone can do anything", and I let him go on believing that; Because, I felt that his boundless sense of hope would behoove him more than the truth.
As far as for me; I feel better about seeing myself with certain limitations; Otherwise, I would be disappointing myself with each passing moment that I have not yet accomplished more.

Check this out Right Now


A person of my age needs to have one skill they dominate at. While I've been switching gears into music, I've been trying to get used to the feeling of being a beginner. Of having people ten years younger than me, be more advanced in this thing than I am. I think that during this time, it's important for me to keep writing, and blogging. Obviously, because I need to write my songs, but also just to keep myself aware that I'm good at something. I know I can sing, but I'm learning stuff about recording and editing. I've already known that when one tries to write their own song, there is no path tracked out, and it's a little bit more difficult to find the notes out. I didn't realize a whole bunch of my lines came out off key. I beat myself up over that maybe a little too much. I just need to get past it and redo it. I don't want to edit it so much that it doesn't sound like my voice anymore.
And so.. it turns out I was all worried about this kid's opinion of me, and I decided that he didn't think I was serious enough about music just because he hadn't replied to a song I sent him... Snooping on his FaceBook, I see that he has a girlfriend; and that's why. He probably saw my request to selfie trade as flirting. So pretty much it really did have nothing to do with me. Only this time, my song I sent him sucked even though it was a more serious attempt, and he offered to make an instrumental for me behind it. Too good to be true, right? Yep. I mean, it was a beyond generous offer. It was more work than I would willingly ask someone to take on. I just accepted the offer, blind with excitement. I guess it still wasn't fair of me to put him in that predicament. I wouldn't actually want to distract him from making his own magic- and it is magic. He's fucking good. I'm embarrassed. I'm mad at myself for not hearing it. I think I attempted to do the sweet sour key thing, but then accidentally got stuck in the sour key. I'd like to believe that over what he suggested- that my vibrato takes me off key. I mean, maybe that did happen in this song, but, I hope thats not what always happens. I thought could sing better than this.
He wasn't even really that mean to me, but what he said really bothered me. He said he wasn't able to complete the instrumental because my song was outside of his genre, which I knew already. I told him I wouldn't mind him switching it to his genre, and he said it wouldn't make a good song. It just completely defeated me. Then, when I asked one of my best friends, and a producer, if he was still willing to help me, I found out that he's willing to help, but didn't realize he was a part of my project yet. Honestly, he inspired me to do the project, and I wouldn't have ever bitten off this big if I didn't think I had him on this.
In my early 20's, I was actually pretty proficient at making instrumentals on a certain app. I've been trying to get myself back into that groove, and it has been so difficult. I want to say, even more difficult than it was starting off. I feel like this has more to do with my self esteem, and perceived skill, than actual capabilities.
My heart kind of aches even though I've gotten such good news about my mom. Right now, there is still cancer, so it isn't technically a remission, but it is too small to see on a scan, or target for radiation treatment. Also, if it does grow, she is a candidate, and willing to do a radiation trial. It's not as trial-ish as the other trial, because what they're doing is still standard of care. I really hope that if it does have to grow, it stays one tumor, and does not metastasize again . This time around, it has stayed put, so my hope is still plausible.


Since my last post, I have made a lot of headway, written and recorded a couple of songs, made some flyers. I hit another wall again. I'm amazed how easily it is for me to become emotionally constipated but it makes sense because of certain things I know I'm suppressing. I'm hoping that hashing some of those things that are okay to pick apart on here will help me clear that road block again. It's kind of hard to edit the music files when they get close to finished because I keep having, "system overload", error.
[October 24]
I woke up in the middle of the night and randomly thought of something I feel great guilt over. Analyzing how terrible it was, what I did; And how it must have felt; And what the fuck I was actually thinking- how stupid I was. I know I am forgiven by God, but I am not as easily forgiven by myself. I can’t get over it. God I am soo sorry, I wish I could take it back. I don’t think I fully realized what I was doing, but on some level I did. maybe that level is now, and I’m mixing it up I am a monster. I have to allow myself to think about it sometimes when it comes up, otherwise it will intrude and dominate my mind. I am so disgusted by myself and what I did. I know I have killed that part of myself, which is how I now cannot fathom my actions. The only thing I can say to possibly get past this, is that I am truly and deeply remorseful; And, I have a very long life to live. If I’m going to be someone better, I can’t dwell on this and tear myself apart. I know that I will never do anything like that again, and I have to take solace in that truth.

Music Frustration

Deep down on some level, I knew I wasn’t fulfilling my musical goals, but I felt that I was decently keeping my heart alive. Now it seems that this too, has bitten me in the ass. As I awaken, and feel more and more compelled to make myself into what I already am; It frustrates me that the act of keeping alive, survival, bears so little fruit. As I begin to compile a portfolio, I can’t stop seeing my lack. I am frustrated that I stopped seeing the value in poetry, because now I sift through my writing, looking for something that could be a song. I’m a writer, and I’m writing; But I still have no idea what I should really write about. There were things I did in survival mode, just to keep the light in my eyes. I hoped it would leave more evidence. I know I’m not being fair, because I’m trying to sift every single thing through one tiny little hole. Even now, I’m still in survival mode, barely beyond.. I remember nurturing my ideas and trying to capture them in some form, even when I didn’t have the energy to do more.

I hate the way that writing and analyzing everything in my world, doesn’t provide the relief and sense of solution that it once did. No matter how far I break it down, there are things that only cause more pain to delve into. This causes me not to crave writing as much as I once did.
The night I started the project of my first cover, I started four or five new projects. There is still this daunting, overwhelming feeling that comes over me every time I open the garage band. I don’t know if it’s unfamiliarity with the interface? Or, what it really is. I kind of remember that feeling when it came to photo editing software, but it was less crippling, and I ended up getting over it a lot quicker than I perceive myself to be getting through this.

Suddenly, all the songs I’ve been constantly inspired by, frustrate me. New music doesn’t titillate my senses the same way. It’s like I’m in a moodl But moods are more like weather conditions, and this seems to be looming. Like a drought? Make it rain! I pray again for guidance and direction. I even want to say that maybe it’s because I need to clean my area, but when do I ever actually have a clean area? When I do, I feel the need to make a mess. Those two conditions are like the tide and the moon.
See this? And all this!? It’s nothing! It’s trash. What is it? What is it even good for?? I used to think this was something and now I just don’t see it.

I try hard not to be intimidated by what inspires me. I have a friend who has been channeling his whole life and soul into music. I divide my soul across many passions. I can’t help it. I wish I could go all in, and then again, I don’t wish that. LOL, I won’t go all in on the wish, even. I’d rather consider myself a “x” threat than a jack of trades.I admire him so much, and I look up to him. Problem is, the other day I tried to work with him, and my nervousness peaked to new heights, and became crippling. Many of my true feelings came to surface. Like being intimidated. I don’t want to be intimidated by him. I know I have just as much fury and fire as he does. I just don’t have the focus and direction that he does. I think I would put all of myself into one thing if I could clearly discern where to start with making a career of that. I would love to do something I love to do. That would help me give the most time possible to. Fuck, there must be some hidden cache/stash of my creativity that I’ve been keeping in this gap I’m seeing. Damn itt. I know what I did. a FUCKLOAD of stupid skin obsession shit. It’s just;- That can’t be it.

So, and writing is my lane. I’m a great writer. Music is my preferred lane. I don’t want to trash the writing. It plays a major role in music as well. I’m witnessing a friend whose lane is drawing, try to write a story. Night after night, he is compelled to draw in the midst of his writing attempts. Hmmm… That feels awfully familiar. I think it's food for my soul that he strives toward writing, which is what I have, while I am feeling this way about it. I'm a closet attention whore, and writing is so low key.

Crazy Person Art

So i did somethin kinda strange.... i like it overall; The behavior replacement, but I wish i could get all super obsessive abt sht that matters....SynopsisCollapse )
I see this more of behavior modification therapy than art....and i fucking fucking live it


Kismet Witstatic

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