My Life.

New ink. Gotta represent being a drummer.

Fri, 17 Aug 2012 09:21:27 -0400

New ink. Gotta represent being a drummer.

The next tour I’m working.

Tue, 07 Aug 2012 22:24:34 -0400

The next tour I’m working.

Photo

Tue, 07 Aug 2012 22:23:42 -0400

Photo

Tue, 07 Aug 2012 21:19:12 -0400

Photo

Tue, 07 Aug 2012 21:06:02 -0400

Wishing.

Sat, 28 Jan 2012 03:56:08 -0500

Sometimes I wish you could understand.
Why I hide my emotions and feelings and thought processes.
If you knew what all went on inside my head, you’d think I’m crazy.
There’s a reason I don’t tell people anything and keep it quiet.
The thought’s I think and the words I say are completely different, you’d never know that they come from the same brain.
Let me be honest though, I don’t hate you, I hate me.
I hate my hair, my body, my clothes, my teeth. I hate my future, my failures and everything between. I’m just not happy, at least not with myself.
YOU make me happy on every level, you don’t understand though, I’m just not happy with myself.
You can love me and say don’t change, but we all know there’s a side that wants the six pack and pearly whites, money and a bright future.
I’m a failure at best and yet you want me.
It’s times like these where I question you because no one should want me.
I’m fat. I have yellow teeth. I have horrible hair. I have even worse clothes.
My future? What future. A two time college drop out, man that’s a life.
I only want what’s best for you, but you don’t get it.
I’m really not the best for you, you could do way better.
What about the model, who’s tone and has great teeth, and even better hair?
Someone who has a college degree and a future with finances rather than someone who can barely hold a job at Starbucks.
A man is supposed to provide, financially, emotionally and be able to provide a future.
I can barely do one.
So please tell me why you’re with me, because the facts don’t add up.
You can say you love me and that’s all that matters, but really, I can’t let you make this mistake.
All I’ve ever been in my life is a mistake.
An oops baby from the start, the mistake of picking me for their team, the mistake of accepting me into the club or colleges, the mistake of dating someone who has no future and no job.

I’m done.

Submission.

Sun, 11 Dec 2011 23:55:18 -0500

I can’t do it. I just can’t.

Some people can, they just submit to God and give everything over to Him, their worries, their lives everything, yet I’m human and it seems I’m too human because I can’t submit. I don’t know how, because everytime that I try, it seems there is always something holding me back. Either money, a job, or people I don’t want to make think I’m crazy. Although deep deep down, there is a part of me that wishes I could, that aches to submit, I just can’t, I don’t know how. I’m too scared that when I give everything over to God that I’ll fall flat on my face.

So help me.

Please.

If you know how this whole submission thing works, I would really like to know and would greatly appreciate your input.

Stop. Yelling.

Sun, 11 Dec 2011 23:34:43 -0500

I’m done with yelling. Whoever invented it I hope you’ve already died.

It seems like now a days all there is, is yelling. Not just between me and my girlfriend but EVERYONE, I will never understand why people are so stressed, your life isn’t that bad so stop taking it out on everyone like it is.

If you have something to say, talk to me about it, because you won’t get my attention or respect by yelling about it. I keep my calm, and you yell, I keep my calm AGAIN, you yell, I keep calm one last time and you yell and because of all the yelling that is being directed towards me from all angles I snap. You can only be calm for so long until you become human again and snap.

Remember in middle school, or maybe it was high school, but remember when we had to make those bridges out of balsa wood? The goal of that was to see what design will be the strongest and hold the most weight, but the thing is, no design lasted forever. I don’t care who you are, or how strong you are, if someone keeps yelling at you, or there’s a big burden on your shoulders, and more and more weight keeps being added on, you’re going to snap, no matter what.

Right now, it seems like no one wants me. My family wants nothing to do with me, and the people I thought were my family and friends are turning their backs on me. So what type of person are you, if you can tell your own flesh and blood that even though we’re related you can cut off our relationship like it’s never existed.

I’ll make my own choices, I’m 20, let me make them and make mistakes and learn from them. Instead you shun me, kick me to the curb and act like I’ve killed someone by going with my own choices instead of yours. You. Are. Not. God.

I need my old life back, I miss Sunday mornings, Chai Tea Lattes (no water), Eric, Jonathan and my family at Life, and getting to do what I love. Right now, I have no one, no money for Chai Teas, no church, no friends and no drum set. I don’t think life could get much lower.