Sometimes you need a change of scenary, especially if you're feeling really bad. When things get low, and like so low that everything around you stops really feeling real, don't completely lose yourself to the unreality.
Unreality
noun
un·​re·​al·​i·​ty ˌən-rē-ˈa-lə-tē
1 a : the quality or state of being unreal : lack of substance or validity
b : something unreal, insubstantial, or visionary : figment
2 : ineptitude in dealing with reality
In case you didn't know that's what you're experiencing. One way to not lose yourself in this unreality is to get that change of scenary. That might include: taking a walk, taking a drive, or visiting a friend. Interestingly enough, getting away to a new reality makes you feel more real in yours. Because your friends' have their shit together, and you don't. But that's okay! It's okay because you'll be sitting on your friends porch smoking a cigarette watching the cars go by on the highway. It's really loud when you live near a highway. Which you do now, for a brief time now that you're at your friends. Silence is important, if you wear your headphones too much or listen to too much of the radio you might suffer from hearing fatigue. That's when you just get sick of music. Which you might think is impossible to do, but trust me, it's very possible to get sick of all the music. When you're in a state like this you can't stand many things. When your friends tell you they're worried, assure them you are okay. And don't forget to smile when you say it. But don't smile too much, because that'll just worry them more. Or even better, when they ask you how you are, or if they tell you about some break up they went through to try and relate just nod and say, "i know, it just hurts right now. But i know it'll pass." Trust me, it will always shut them up.
It's always easier to say the most normal thing. But when you aren't sure what normal is just try to feel the nearest edge. You need to really press your hand against it to feel it, and gripping it won't feel like anything. Make sure it's sharp-ish. Nothing that could seriously leave any damage behind, but maybe just a little. That's ideal. Hot-red not bright blood, because that'll be really bad. Don't let things get too bad, or things get you down too much. It's sort of like this.
It's like the lead up to a really big concert, or meeting, or trip, the lead up to it is what feels so unreal--turning that reality into unreality. You've got to just push through that part. Because the really big part is coming. It's coming and before you know it, it'll be like nothing ever happened. You'll smile so much you won't know what to do. But until then, just feel the edges of your friend's old dining table. It's got splintered wood, but that's okay, that's sort of the point.

We did a "Bandbang" on the 29th with some of friends over at the Luna Lounge. It was a play on the word gangbang. But Band. i dunno.
It was us and then our friends Nina Is Not Okay, who's new stuff absolutely blew my mind. i don't hear math rock as much as i used to but damnnn its some good stuff.
Then there was another shoegaze band from Newark called Virgin Suicides. They, of course, knew Robbie. If someone is from Newark you can pretty much assume they know Robbie somehow someway. The lead singer was this real cool chick named Neva. Everyone made fun of me for not talking much, but it wasn't because of Neva, i just had a lot on my mind. Mostly i was thinking about how the Luna Lounge is probably going to close soon. There's just been a feeling of impending death hanging over all of my favorite places. It's depressing.
It was just the three of us and we all were supposed to play a thirty minute set, thankfully we went last so it was okay that went over. We always go over. i lose track of time on stage. Especially now that i don't sing.
It used to be just me and G. G always refuses to sing even though shes got the energy of Karen O but the voice of like. i don't know a good voice. She's got the voice of an actual angel, though. It was extremely unfair that i, who can't sing for shit, had to be the singer our whole first year. G gets exhausted pretty fast. She sings a bit more now just as an occasional background voice but i think sometimes everyone tries to coach her too much so she avoids it as much as possible.
Who could really say. i'm just glad i'm not the one having to sing anymore.

January is an entire year in itself.
i've done so many laps around the museum that i was afraid that the security guards would tell me to stop. So, i started doing laps on the block over. But then i was sure that if i were to reach out to any of the people passing me on the street, any of those nice tailored suits i'd go right through them.
Saw people for the first time in what felt like ages. It was nice being on the turnpike again in a weird way.
We recorded for like eight hours. My fingers ache. There were some other people from other bands that were just hanging out. They were a noise band called GREEEE and they were pretty sick. About 30 minute to an hour long breaks in between songs to just play the new GTA on Boots's playstation. I really want to play the new Resident Evil 4 but it's only out on fucking Gamecube because of the stupid commie execs at CapCom. (That's a joke i love communists especially if you want to give me a free game)
Speaking of, Robbie got a bunch of free shit from just...people giving him stuff??? He pawned off most of it to me G and Boots. It hasn't hit me yet that even though it's cold right now, i'm going to have to be seriously playing guitar agai. To actual crowds. Hm.
BRB. gonna vomit.

So cold in new york everytime i smile outside my lips crack and bleed. No one wants to go outside and i'm seriously starting to feel like Napoleon banished to an island by myself. Except it's just my empty room. i keep going outside to the deli and just walking around to keep myself from going insane.
My mom can always tell. She forced me to go outside with her and get new converse today. They're going to be my fancy special occasion ones because even though my mom wanted to throw the old pair out, they have too much sentimental value for all that. i can't ever get rid of stuff. Something to do with my childhood probably. Whatever. Converse might not even be around in 20 years and then my busted chucks are really going to be worth something.
There was this girl at Macy's, because i'm a freak of nature and my shoe size isn't just out on the floor with all the regular people, that helped me get my new pair of shoes. There was a moment when we were handing off boxes of shoes with each other, one size above my regular and two sizes up (just in case), and it's so embarrassing to admit this because i know how lonely it makes me sound but i fully couldn't speak the rest of the time we were there. Should i really be writing this in a livejournal? It's been hard to decide what to put in the livejournal and what to put in the real journal...and then of course what to turn into a song. Not enough happened with Macy's girl that i could turn it into a song.
Besides the fact i couldn't stop chewing the inside of my cheek. Like lip-splitting grin in the cold, just blood in my mouth. She kept trying to do this maintaining eye contact thing with me, which i can barely maintain eye contact with my own parents much less pretty girls. Why is it so hard to talk to pretty girls? Should i really be putting this on livejournal? How embarrassing is it to be a pretty girl, stumbling upon the livejournal of some guy you met at your job at the Macy's in Midtown Manhattan, and it's about tasting your blood. Except she would never stumble upon this. No one would.

Most of my exchanges with attractive people:
HER: Hi! (Said super nice, but there's an underlying irkness, a biting meanness, because why are you standing in front of me?) my name is (something so fitting, so beautiful that it immediately erases itself from your memory, else you poison it) Are you Jack?
ME: Me? (That name sounds wrong all of sudden)
HER: Yeah!
ME: ...
THEN JACK COLLAPSES TO THE FLOOR. THE PARAMEDICS ARE CALLED. DEAD ON ARRIVAL.
END.

One of my resolutions this year is to try and get a little further than that with a pretty girl. That's all i want, is to be able to say more than three words to a pretty girl without it feeling like i've got blood pooling in my mouth. Closing my eyes tight trying to remember how normal people greet each other. This is the year that i will achieve something closer to this:

HER: Hi! Are you Jack?
ME: Yes. And you?
HER: I'd like to be your friend.
ME: Let's do it.

i need to write the plan out. As it stands, the way to get from point A to point B is just a blank space. An impossible blank cavern. Because normalcy is something so foreign to me. Thinly sliced strawberries look back at me like fresh muscles. How do other people live? How do they breathe without feeling it? How do they look at others and see? i don't think i'm making any sense. i have a melody in my head that's been repeating slowly, getting louder, it's nearly screaming at me.
Jesus christ. It IS screaming at me. i'll get off the computer and lay down this track. Think about the steps. The HOW the steps the point a the point b.

i wonder when livejournal will put a limit how many blogs you can make. i don't have much to do today, since most of the festivities all took place last night. So, i decided to listen to some albums that i hadn't gotten around to doing yet. Interpol came out with their second album. Turn On the Bright Lights was pretty good. G really liked playing it when we would drive to Williamsburg. But i try not driving places that are way closer by train.
G usually wants to drive anywhere she can, not that she doesn't like the train she just doesn't like paying. But last night, she called me at around 4PM and told me that we were going to take the train to the party. i'm really not a party type of person, and i don't really like to drink, but i do it often. i'm quickly realizing that might be everyone in their early 20s. But that night i was okay with being a Designated Driver, but G whined about me being no fun. The last thing i wanted was to open the new year with a fucking hangover
G promised it wouldn't be that bad.
So i stupidly believed her. If it’s not obvious by the fact that this new Interpol album sounds like shit because my head is killing me with the hangover from last night.
The party was at someone i wouldn’t call a “friend” but a friend of my friends. It’s weird having friends everyone knows. It’s nice more often than it’s not.
When i finally get there, G isn’t even there. Because why would she be? i love her more than life but she could not be on time if you paid her to do it—which i’m pretty sure i have. Showing up to a party as a plus one without the connecting Plus, as just a One is the most humiliating thing One could do.
G finally decided to show up about an hour in to me looking like Creepy Guy No One Invited. The party itself was good. i got to see my friends, which is all i really wanted to do. Everyone got really fucked up and watched the ball drop on their friends’ tiny TV. It doesn’t feel like a new year. It never feels like a new year. With so many exciting things that happened in 2004, all the new music, friends, and places, i got used to it all. The music all sounds the same, the friends become predictable, the trees were dead in december exactly like they are in january. For once, i want to be able to say i had someone. Everyone BUT ME had a NYE kiss, yes even G. The empty cavern in my chest is usually easier to deal with but the turn over to something as fucking stupid as a new year really makes me wish i wasn’t so fucking single. But whatever.
The band is so busy that i won’t have time to think about all that. Some shows are still being finalized but i’ll post it on our website and also here.. it’s going to be one show a month maybe two but by March we should be playing somewhere pretty much every week. Super overwhelming but i’ve never felt so good about some of the new music we’ve got. i won’t get super into it right now because this entry is long enough. i doubt anyone is even going to read this. Not many people even really listen to us yet, and even less people listen to me. It’s pretty close to zero.
i really just want a kid who’s only ever listened to music through his walkman he was gifted like four christmases ago to come to our show and just have their world totally fucking rocked like mine was. Sappy but I don’t give a fuck.