addiction, Alexander Frost, alone, art, artist, chivalry, class, courtesy, death, deception, desperation, drugs, forward, gentleman, girls, Goodnight Lover, happiness, heartbreak, hippies, human nature, humanity, isolation, jocks, life, loneliness, loss, Love, Love Anchor, manners, meaning, Music, musician, Norway, outlook, poseur, progress, relationships, sex, society, status quo, women
i realized the most common phrase i’ve encountered while playing in bands pre-show is: ‘hey, which one of you brought the blow?’
the most common phrase post-show is: ‘hey, do we have any of that blow left?’
and between song communication is usually along the lines of: ‘hey, this is awesome. did you make sure to put the blow away safely? you did, right?’
and it’s always a riot to lean over to someone mid-song and say ‘i do cocaine’ in a whisper, a la Dr. Rockzo, who bears an uncanny and i’m sure intended resemblance to david lee roth, minus the face-painit of course. so, if you’re a young musician, please believe me when i say that i am not advocating drug use. in fact, i’d say if you’re good to go without it, then steer clear. but i’m also an advocate for thinking for yourself- so don’t take advice from me or anyone else. sure, i’m an excellent role model. i try to be everything men today seem to be lacking- chivalrous, well-educated, a notable polymath, and an all-around sophisticated gentleman who isn’t afraid to fight for honor- whether by gun, knife, sword, or hands. but i don’t smoke or drink, not because i’ve been blinded by fear from joe schmos and regular church going, law-abiding folk who’ve stuck to the straight and narrow, that path that inevitably leads to the middle class. they’ll tell you that illegal is the same as immoral, and that you’ll hurt your body as well as be looked upon as a misguided misfit by all the other regular folks who’ll sooner point the finger than lend a hand. that’s not true, i don’t believe- if you do what you feel is right and put in enough hard work and risk, no one will be looking upon you. i like to have fun and kid around just as much as i like to be dead serious and work myself into the ground in hopes of doing something that matters- it’s transcendental, this learning to discover things for oneself; and if only in that way, you’ll raise yourself, your awareness, your very essence above everyone who’s got the nerve to say what you should and should not do, and in so doing, you will realize that it’s you who’s looking down on all of the rest and not vice-versa. you can be a star, and i don’t mean in the sense of a celebrity per se, but in the sense that you’re beautiful and amazing and everything going on inside of you, though it one day must come to an end, is absolutely mind-blowing. you can cast your glow upon anyone who’s the presence of mind to look up every now and again to remind themselves that we’re all floating on a ball of rock in space, and that though humanity is gorgeous, knowing that we all live on this hospitable planet (perhaps the only one in the ever-expanding vastness of the universe), that we are able to form relationships at all and communicate with others though we feel very much alone at the same time. but we are very much alone in the scope of things- despite the progress we make as adaptive, intelligent beings, for every advance we make in ridding the world of some ill, we seem to come up with many more new methods of more efficiently annihilating one another. and we’re doomed to die anyway regardless. so what’s the use? no, this isn’t a rally for peace, because i know better. and i’m not a hippie- this machine destroys hippies and their songs that are basically just long-ass guitar solos, their bumper sticker politics, and their pacifism. i’ve had enough from being exposed to that crowd- hang out in bars, listen to music, smoke, drink, and play frisbee or unicycle football. it’s the same old shit: they’re reacting against jocks by doing the same things. only the bar is different, the music is different, and it’s just old-fashioned pigskin (minus the circus sideshow aspect)- and they smoke and drink themselves into the same fucking stupors. no one’s reacted against anything really. just each other- the fellow man we regard as the ‘other’. the ideology is the same- get fucked up, try to be as normal as possible, even though that entails never actually accomplishing much. and people, some of them i’ve put my trust into and made sacrifices for, will call me ‘anti-social’ ad chastise me for trying to ‘make everything like a fairy-tale’, though i’ve done nothing besides something: reacting against it all, because it’s all the same. life is a fairy-tale, so long as you have some determination, ambition, decency, and class. some girls will think it’s an act of desperation to hold the doors for them, to open their car door and close it for them, to run their bath water and try to bring a little bit of light and romance into someones life. and i know a girl or two who is desperate because she ‘wants to be treated badly’, ‘not made to feel like a princess and perpetually in a swoon’, and despite their talk of not wanting to be thought of in terms of their looks, some girls will hold it against you when the room turns to stare, not at them, but at their boyfriend instead- and they’ll realize that all their other friends have average-looking, but below-average when it comes to having some class and showing some common courtesy, so they’ll throw away every single plan, every single sacrifice, to acquire a downgrade. that said, you can be a star- you may frighten people away with your brilliance and intensity, and it’s so much easier not to be great, but it can be done if that’s what you truly desire: being extraordinary. you just have to get higher than everyone else. that’s how it starts, so you may take that how you will. it’s an allusive device that creates circularity back to my original thoughts, for one, but it’s your life. do with it what you will. go find your pieces- i know i’m missing someone. it’s nice to believe that there’s someone for you, though i’ll sleep alone, wake up the same way, and all the while some little girl who doesn’t know what she asked for threw something priceless away. she won’t sleep alone. she’ll spread herself wide open looking for something to fulfill her, though she knows its gone for good. and she will get hers. it’s nice to know that you all exist- even if you don’t like me and don’t talk to me. i’m used to it, or so i try to tell myself. but one never really makes peace when he’s trapped inside his own mind. i love you all. don’t do drugs- unless you can share. sharing is caring. i share all kinds of deeply personal shit, and people still think i’m cold. no, i’m burning. i’m on fire. i’m quite warm. so don’t be strangers. say something….anything at all. my favorite thing was talking on the phone to a girl until she’d fall asleep, telling me her dreams, her hopes for the future, our plans together. and we’d say ‘good night’ and i’d be happy knowing she was safe and sound. i left her flowers on valentine’s day because i knew her ‘man’ wouldn’t. he made her cry. so after messing it all up, she calls me up, tells me that it made her night- finding a gift and a note waiting for her in bed when she’d come home crying from the bar. she asked me out for coffee. i declined. i did it out of spite. i give beauty in everything i do, no matter. i’m glad she cried, and i hope she cries all of the time- she was actually very pretty when she cried. she’d show some emotion, and i’d kiss her tears away. because i enjoyed the taste. and i’ll remember it always. goodnight, lover.