The Hippest Thing...

Is when you are so inspired by someone, that you resurrect your year-old blog to express some oblique, non-specific sentiments about said person.

This person is somewhat of a dilemma to me--at first the mind wants to say enigma, as there is undoubtedly so much about her that I don't know--but there is also much about her that I DO know, so enigma doesn't seem appropriate. Dilemma, however, definitely fits. Not in so much as it is unpleasant, but more because knowing this person has thus far been free from all normal ambiguities and pitfalls that normally befall the heteroparadigm. Granted, we've had some difficult moments, but overall, I see nothing in the knowing of this woman except Fun, Intelligence, Understanding, Caring, Wit, Talent, and [insert any poisitive statement here and it will be applicable].

So, where is a dilemma in a person surrounded by such perfectly perfect descriptors and modifiers? Of course it's just the usual. Fear. Fear of screwing up something that already, sans touch, has bored its way into my heart and which tempts me not at all to remove or even disentangle the roots that have grown there. Yea, the ole catch-22, you like them so much you are afraid to love them? Perhaps. Or there is the self-depricating approach: "I'm not worthy, at least while I'm in MMT." So many things, so many factors, so many swirling possibilities, but down deep, down dirty, down as low as you can go there's just the simple fact that I adore someone, for the first time since I was last adored, I suppose.

So, the majestic aspect of knowing someone new, somone that you adore is not even atypical here, as I have primarily come to adore, and perhaps also be adored, almost exclusively via telephone and for the most part email. Not that we have always sent short, stubby, typically "e" mail, but we have played linguistic tennis of the highest order. She has one of those minds that you can literally swim in, if she chooses to put the lifeguard up for a shift and bear all (or at least as much as she has decided to share with me). She calls it "the box," this strange electronic medium where all of our sayings, tyrades, happenstances, jokes, flirts, and wisdom coalesce into an illumined cube of knowing.

Of course, there is the Biggest Hurdle, according to her, and ashamedly agreed upon by myself, is this Death Juice I have to take everyday in order to not exist as an endorphin deprived freak. Of course, this Cherry Filth has served a great purpose, in weening me off of opiates, and yet, an opiate it remains, even if the high is left behind. 25mg to go and then my body will be released from The Prison, and hopefully the most powerful forces in the universe will call favor to my torture, and help me get through it relatively unscathed. Will I find her "waiting" at the end of that process? Or will Love find her before then--or, there's always the possibility that our connection remains too unerringly reciprocal to even dare to approach the big "C." Complexities. Is there a non-linear equation to describe the complex feelings that come round the bend when a girl is your best friend? I don't know. But I know she has to be the Pilot, and unfortunately, me just a passenger, until roundabout February 15th, when my body shall emerge from it's Opiate cocoon, hopefully ready to put on the co-pilot headphones and plot a flight plan. Until then, it is enough to know that I at least have such an amazing friend who doesn't get annoyed when I talk politics, who doesn't think me weak for former mistakes (and these are whales, people), and who seems to laugh and smile with the wind of my words. There could be no greater gift, whether you touch the cheek or not. I suppose I'm waiting for that look, if we ever actually see eatch other on a regular basis. The look that makes you realize that you've bored your way in, the look that says, unfalteringly, "kiss me." And if I see the look, shall I purse my lips? Normally, that wouldn't be a choice at all, but something tells me I might see that look dancing back and forth with another one that says "wait." Like I said, she's the pilot. I just know I want her around--and if she's not around, then a few words from that megolithic wit will do, because keeping a one in a million around in any capacity is a challenge, especially when you're faced with a monumental struggle such as myself. The willingness not only to witness it, but also to encourage success, is a gift she probably has little clue as to the enormity of, and yet offers wholly and completely. I think, maybe, that's the biggest road sign she's held up. You know, being a man, sometimes we need to be hit on the head with a large hammer to understand what is expected of us. I just hope her aim is true, and her motives selfish.

It's about time I made someone else happy again. So she comes down tomorrow, and maybe I can make her smile, buy her dinner, make her forget about work and the humdrum scythe of time for a few hours. Because, the more I think about it, the more I realize that just in a few thousand words, this person has given me back so much I thought I had lost, and renewed so much of the zeal I worried would never return. We exist much in the Realm of Jest, but lurking just beneah is an undeniable connection that I simply must not try to define lest I drive it off. Which is why I type out these things now, to expunge, to cathart, to repeal any tendencies for the same-ole same ole human traps of over analytical social self-despotism and unyielding worry, and remind myself over and over again, that I'm just going to be glad to see her, and hope that kissing the forehead is a well-tolerated, and yet sub-surface level understood by The Muse in The Augusta Ether.

9:30 PM - 11/18/2005 - comments {1} - post comment

You say It's Your Birthday...

11:45 PM - 3/18/2005 - comments {0} - post comment

New Amp today!

Today was indeed a good day! At approximately 3:00 P.M., as I dozed in and out of about my 2nd hour of continuously interrupted sleep, a UPS lady arrived with a glorious Fender Hot Rod DeVille Guitar Amplifier, 60 Watts, with 2 12" inch speakers and a whole lotta tone. Of course it set me back roundabout 576 bucks, which I was concerned about as I had never actually played through a DeVille, but let me say I was not in the least bit disappointed.

Fender. Everything Fender is wonderful. I've got a Fender shirt on the way (clearance on thier website for $4.99 free shipping, how can ya pass that up?), I play a Fender Flame Maple Top Double Humbucker Telecaster [now] plugged into the Fender DeVille amp, I use Fender picks--everything Fender forever! I've messed with Gibson, Ibanez, Charvel, and others, but nothing compares to a Fender.

This is the guitar I play:

http://www.americanmusical.com/item--i-FEN-262000-520.html

And this be the amp:

http://www.americanmusical.com/item--i-FEN-213200.html

And the guitar I wish I had:

http://www.americanmusical.com/item--i-FEN-101680-820.html

Sure, they may look similar, but believe me, as we can see from the price tag, they aren't. And whilst I am pasting these links, I find that I could have bought a brand new amp just like my 2 year old used one for 25 dollars more from a little "dent and scratch!" Arggh! Why didn't I see that a week ago? Oh well, nothing to be done.

Ya know, I really don't understand why this blogging thing has become so popular. I have yet to come across one that intrigues me. I will truly be surprised if there is anyone out there bored enough to read this...but, I suppose with the scope of the internet, it is possible, however unlikely. I plan in the future to discuss things that MAY attract viewers, so mayhap I can make a few extra bucks from AdSense like the rest of the population seems to be doing. I'm not a big surfer, so I won't have interesting websites to post all the time...perhaps a series of short stories? Or attempt open forums about music? Invite the radiohead fans to debate? My God, everything that could possibly be thought of has been done a million times over and taken the piss out of...I guess the only thing that keeps these things getting hits is the sheer enormity of the population.

Or is it simply the voyeuristic fascination inherent in reading about someone's day to day minutae that intrigues people? To compare our humdrum lives and explore a person's subconcious recesses via an online journal? Or are we just doing these things for our own sense for some form of perverse celebrity? To actually "be known" to the world at large, even in a microcosmic sense, where "the world" is represented by 15-20 strangers?

Or shall I post song lyrics? Poetry? MP3s of my music? Hmm. I suppose I had better copyright it first. If anyone is actually reading  this, and you want to hear some VERY OLD experiments into electronica, goto www.acidplanet.com and search for "erasable a." I haven't posted there for years, but a few of the tunes aren't so bad. Check out "Uninspired," and "The First Ones, Part II." Those are probably the best ones. I actually made the top 10 in the sites techno charts back in the days of ole, when I posted them.

So, it's 12:43 A.M. and the calls are graciously beginning to subside. I always look forward to "the dead zone," roundabout 2:30 and lasting until 5:oo--I suppose at that hour I shall dawn the headphones, turn on the Creative Nomad MP3 player, and listen to some music (what I'm listening to at the moment: The Helio Sequence, Love and Distance, and a particularly "lowbrow" audiobook by Dan Brown called Digital Fortress). Ya know, that guy everyone is screaming over because of The DaVinci Code fiasco.

I really don't see what the big deal is. Of course, if you're gonna contradict the Bible, I suppose you are always gonna be swept away on a fiasco. Hey, it made the guy a millionaire though...something tells me that anyone who "boycotts" the book or lashes out against it has not likely actually read it. Like The Last Temptation of Christ, wonderful movie, masterfully done, criticized and banned by a group of people who never even saw it. I just don't get it. Especially when the movie places the disclaimer from the book right at the beginning, something to the effect of "This is not based on the gospels..." and yet still, major fiasco. Typical quote: "I just know what I heard about it, and that's why I didn't watch it." Of course, don't find out for yourself, just blindly trust the people who also never saw it!

Ahh, enough of that. Don't get me wrong, I am a believer. But I am not, I repeat not, a follower of modern day mass religious organizations. I cannot think of a larger perversion of the intentions of Christ than the rampant judgement, piousness, and hypocracy prevalent in most modern day evangelical organizations. Go figure.

Wierd. You ever have deja-vu when you are writing? I could have sworn I dreamed about writing that very same line, in this very same outfit, at this very same time, in this very same locale. Is deja-vu real? Or just a self-imposed interpretation of a feeling of belonging and feeling a serendipitous purpose to one's existence and sense of self? Again, another mystery. Another aspect to the madness.

And it goes on and on and on...

Until your head needs another unloading, check out this story by yours truly (I have no idea HOW it's still online):

http://webpages.marshall.edu/~grubbs1/bookworm.htm

Please, comments welcome; If you are out there reading it...

11:49 PM - 3/16/2005 - comments {0} - post comment

3:07 A.M. The New Workweek

Well, why not jump on the Blogwagon, as it were. Perhaps I'll become a minor celeb. Perhaps my music will actually get heard by some strangers who will wind up liking it. Perhaps it will pass the time as I sit in from of the computer during the "dead zone" here at work...

Yes, I, like so many others earn a living in a call center, but luckily my shift is 11 P.M. to 7 A.M., so I get substantial time to pursue my own mental endeavors whilst also making a buck. Not to mention the advantages of not having to dawn the "Business Casual" attire every day, or deal with inter-office politics, or any of the other annoyances that come with a 9 to 5 that actually takes place from 9 to 5.

So who is Aaron G.? Well, he is a 31 year old musician struggling to make ends meet who loves art of all sorts and makes a full-time effort of trying to understand the chaos that is modern society. Pastimes? He plays guitar, he sings, he tries to write songs, previously kinda trip-hop electronica stuff, because he didn't have a decent microphone and was limited to loops and samples, and currently is making a go at writing "pop songs," in so far as they have verses and choruses, but hopefully do a decent job of transcending the absolute nightmarish trash that graces the American airwaves these days. His absolute favorite makers of music call themselves Radiohead (big surprise, coming from a musician). He also makes a rather half hearted attempt to occasionally play MMORPGs...he doesn't really know why, as he never seems to stick with it; perhaps something of the appeal of eeking out a fantasy existence in a fantasy world where things make absolute sense. Right now the time-eater is EQ2. Obviously to waste such amounts of time on a computer game, when he already sits in front of a PC 8 hours a night at work is an undeniable indicator of one fact: he does not have a girlfriend. The woman he intended to marry moved on from this world roundabout 2 years ago and he hasn't dated since. He'd like to, he really would. But for some reason, it just doesn't come so easily anymore. He tries to remember how he got so many dates in college, and comes up empty minded... 

He has a degree in English Literature, and enjoys reading postmodern work but can't stand the fact that its called "postmodern." The last really decent 'Neomodern' book he read was "American Gods," by Neil Gaiman. Actually, Mr. Gaiman has a blog of his own, right here: http://www.neilgaiman.com/journal/journal.asp.

He (Me, not Neil; I have no idea what his opinion of the overused descriptor is, I just ran into his blog minutes ago) prefers the term Neomodern, just because there are currently no treatises written on the word. He dislikes the idea of making a career writing tomes upon tomes of work made up essentially of linguistic masterbation and self-important intellectual substatiation. Let's face it, sometimes a word is just a group of letters meant to describe something.

Moving on...

It is Tuesday, which is my Monday. I'm wondering what I could possibly fill these pages with, as my life has recently entered what could doubtless be considered the most bland period in my 31 years. Following quite a major drug addiction, I've elected to give up the "rock-and-roll" lifestyle in favor of boredom. The lyrics are pouring out, but thus far only one group of stanzas has wound up in a melody. If all goes well it shall be posted here (a demo of it anyway), although I can't imagine anyone actually listening to it. Who knows, though--I am beyond amazed at how many people's lives wind up being compelling enough for so many others to read and digest; what's even more surprising is the fact that there are still people out there who actually click on banner ads. Thousands of them. Clicking and consuming. Clicking and consuming. Won't you please gimme half a penny, faithful reader?

I may never type in this thing again. I may type in this thing every day. God knows I have the time. 3:29 a.m. and still noone has summoned my technical skills via analog voice transmission. I'm definitely earning my 12 bucks this hour.

Next week is my birthday. I'll be 31 years old. I feel no different than I did at 24, except I'm much more sober. Clarity of thought is a drug in and of itself when you are surrounded by such madness. Yes, madness. What other word could be so fitting for the modern age? Yes, that will be theme for these erasable windows. The madness that surrounds, abounds, and confounds.

Until the brain again needs a space dump...

http://www.randomwebsite.com/

3:06 AM - 3/16/2005 - comments {0} - post comment