but I suppose I could say a few things about myself:
New remix coming out with the chance to get on Warner Bros. Records (granted it’s not rigged or they actually like our stuff *fingers crossed so hard it hurts*). Regardless, it’s a beautiful track and should at the very least touch a few ravers in the right way. Who knows, maybe it’ll get us more work—wouldn’t that be nice.
Halfway through writing my thesis for next year—a film about a boy and a girl, Colby and Rory. A dissection of how we communicate with each other, I’ve split the functions of my personality into two characters with the intention of watching them grow together in the hopes that their ability to find love and connection will reflect on my ability to feel a wholeness and truth in myself (it’s been a long 6 months to say the least). It’s 1-part indie romcom, 1-part soap-box-the-subtext, 1-part overanalysis, and 1-part relentlessly honest. Coming out 2015!
Poetry’s taken the back seat, though I’ve done a few pieces lately.
Gonna quit smoking for good at the beginning of Winter Break. Took a five-day hiatus and was proud of myself for being able to do it. Addiction sucks. After dealing with all the shit I’ve had thrown at me over the years (mostly from myself, but a bit from others), I refuse to let myself become beholden to any external encumberment other than my own. So yeah, fuck death sticks.
Love sucks. Love really sucks. Nothing feels right. Bodies either feel like jagged paths without belonging or amorphous sinkholes racked with regret. I lost a lot to uncertainty, but later found out many much more disturbing things pertaining to the whole (we don’t talk about it)-situation. And recently too, I mean, all the way back to October 2012?…Really? …Whatever, I couldn’t even be bothered to care about any of that hell anymore. Mistakes and regret is all I will take away from this until the next cycle begins with someone who will convince me that it doesn’t have to be that way. Or maybe she’ll be in the same position as me, and we’ll grope towards a feeling we can’t possibly reach from having been bent over backwards one too many times. Gabe’s girlfriend was right, I do too many things I despise to forget my love life, my sex life, and every shred of romance I had ever believed existed. Move on. Remember the good days and miss the memories, not the person. The bed’s made, so sleep well, but not in mine. Happiness is not a commodity, but an expression of internal beauty projected externally. Heaven is real and its found in that which makes us whole and is that which makes us human.
Never say “hate”
Never hold back
and for God’s sakes, Ryan, stop dating fucking photographers.