Saturday, January 17, 2009

January 14th -16th 2009-

January 14th - Josh, M.J., and I jammed in some kind of cold to the constant humming buzz of kerosene fumes. The night was fresh being that it was like frozen in a negative Fahrenheit type of way. I felt good and we made some neat sounds. Schvee, Derek, and Nathanael were stiff frozen and our feet were frozen just the same so we proceeded to head inside where consequently the night died and the people lost their cold buzz. How do nights just die? People claim that once you get out of high school nights lose their significance, but I think they're delusional.

January 16th- I played at the Garfield artworks with Rock Rifle, Jenn Gooch, David Karsten Daniels, and the Lampshades. It was so very, very cold in a Pittsburgh way. I was happy, but even when I was warm it seemed I was shivering. I was a rigid nervous cold. A pretty usual crowd of supportive awesome friends tagged along- I love when they do. Carrying the equipment in the bitter cold was a bitch so you can probably guess how little practice I've been getting in this weather. While carrying my tom drum I slipped on the ice and slammed my hip so hard I thought my organs were bleeding causing a discomfort nearly the whole night through. The acts were great. I played like a nervous wreck in a dischord state that was somehow enjoyable to the people. I kept my cool kind of and acted confident enough that the people enjoyed it I guess. I played on the side of the artworks instead of the stage which allowed movement to arise. I loved the crowd that was there too. A lot of sincere and a lot of cute and fun music. David Karsten Daniels ( was the travelling act and you could see it in his weary kind eyes. Being in my jumpiness I must have seemed a bit overwhelming and awkward, but all the same he kept about his calm way. I admired the bits of wisdom his mind contained and the way he used those wisdoms in his projection. Rock Rifle is always cute and lovable and they are such nice people. Their music is semi-disorganized and her band members sway. Emily- Albert and Blakely I believe were their names and they all are good people and interesting ones too. It's a shame to have such little time to talk with people at these events. I have wanted to see Jenn Gooch ( for a while. Her music is beautifully rattled on a baritone banjo and her songs remind me bits of my old, old music and brought up campfires memories. The Lampshades were a fun talented batch with something to offer that is forming and forming and will keep on if they stay together. Their lead singer Jaren was very talented and had some good soul. With the semi-primitive approach they had they were a perfect end to a good night with a bruised hip.
next friday i'm playing at the Gooski's bar with one of my favorite Pittsburgh musicians Samuel Pace and his band Italian Ice. i'll post the flyer, Peace and love.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009


Monotony on my blank page- in a winter suffocation. Oh, yes! How good it is; and how awful.
A sweet fucking yin yang making its revolutions, turning back and forth.
Apparently I do nothing in my household. I am a slobbish wastoid right about now.
18- no license- no job- forgot half of myself back there on the zig-zag path while my body reels in a state that forgot how to paint.
Smokin' rolleys and pissed at the house.
I got some harsh motivation speeches and a slap on the wrist or two mixed with an uneasy all day- everyday.
Oh, yes! And it keeps its weather cold for me in an effort to show me- " If you don't take the coat and the gloves and the layers and put them on yourself you'll never be warm. It's all you- ", it says.
I can drink my smut coffee and smoke my smut cigarettes, but in the end they only stand for what they help me deal with, some fucking smut.
Oh!- those silly repetitives hang in the balance by like a finger. Restless and tired.

Got home today. I heard an honest real and like always heard it like a plastic and denied its genuine. I wanted to sleep. After a fight with the birth-mother and a sad interaction with some still wet dishes. I stomped around a bit- real intelligent-like. Above everything else and looking downward.
By the time I laid down I wasn't even tired- so i forced myself to sleep. I had a half sexual dream that turned into a blackness that led me from 3 to 11. Woke up in a fucking stupor with only one emotion, that sickening one. That sickening beat up emotion- the one with all the squinting eyes and fucked up hair that makes me hate. Hate is that word that excessively works out and tries to prove something to the other emotions.
I wanted to call someone to talk to, but who to call when the phones are off.
I wanted some fake voice to smoke a smoke to. I wanted some fake voice to hear.
But, now i only hear my head voice. The one that is always wrong- and always right; the great contradiction; a common theme, and a blatant mind-fuck regardless if you think you understand it.
I have that show friday- the first one i've played in a while and here's a track for download that fits this entry pretty fully.

Sunday, January 11, 2009


I am learning all the time.
It is all so ridiculously interesting, this swirl of life-
and confusing. What with winter break and everything having broken.
Breaking barriers and mind fucks and all the shit that just builds up only to break- ironically this time in something called a "break".
My friends are beautiful unique things to view. I love them. The new ones and the old ones. I love what they do and how they move and talk to me. I love being bored with them and having exciting times with them. I love my memories of them. Their faults are mine as mine are theirs- that's why the bullshit happens- being that we're all intertwined and shit- it's inevitable. Friends cause the negative times and unknowingly teach of how a positive time is so fucking good. Who knows what you'll learn. Who knows how you'll feel.

I saw the new year come 2009 times- every time with a new kiss of outlook. Every year has its own. I saw new friends and felt good. I drank liquor on liquor and threw up 2009 way after that ball dropped (like the ball matters). It's always a new year every time. I planted some half unwanted seeds and people and watched'em sprout in between people and then listened to people talk about the sprout. I was a cause and I affected. I have some new affection and hope for it. I drank liquor moments and got stuck in a snow and an ice. I smoked some paranoid marijuana and some indifferent marijuana and some good times pot. I made some praying musics. I talked on the phone and my ear melted off. I got jealous and talked unnecessary shit and then thought about it and was like, what the fuck. I confronted the same old demon. I- I- I- I- did this and that and i was sore from the exercise of it all. I saw my family and played banjo with my grandfather. I saw little humans that will grow . I got some material effects, bonded with my father, bonded with my mothers sickness (again), bonded with myself. I am doing a hard chore for myself. I am saying, "fuck you inhibition and all your evils and fuck you blemish in your symbolics and fuck you oracle and your lessons". IT"S ALL ME NOW. Some kind of battle- I've already survived up until this sickly little year- even after all the musket balls that are lodged in my frail little skull and mind. Fighting for the country of myself and staying alive. My flag was wrapped around my eyes though for half the fight- so i wished it translucent. Goodbye to you self-conscious, worried, frightened Dean. I'll miss your soft face. Still learning as we speak and I'm a good little student. Can I pass the test? What would I do without my friends- probably rot with no advice on how to do it properly. I love you guys sincerely no matter where you go and I'm not just talking of the ones in the pictures.