Nothing new besides the fact that I can't draw, am doing lots of photoshop shit, and have some awesome shit in mind for my painting final. Oh, and we've weeded out some more bullshit. We're bitch-free at the moment. Huzzah. It's funny how we realize who our true friends are once the death threats start coming out, eh?

So, not much has changed other than my viewpoints on certain things (What's worth my stress and what's worthy of being tossed down the proverbial shitter). There's no question that the loss is still floating around in my head, but who ever said I was good at this whole coping thing? In lieu of betrayal, I'm probably going to go back to doing solo shit, as it's not much of a band without a drummer. So, on that note I'm pretty pissed but, shit happens.

Thanks to my great painting instructor Hall Groat (The dude's pretty awesome) I'm starting to get back into painting again and have been thinking for awhile of doing a set of psuedo-portraits of some friends and whatnot. Beyond that, I've been playing around with charcoal a bit and doing some scribbles, mainly just trying to fuck around with whatever I've got at hand (However, I'll note that I still suck with charcoal. A lot.) Hopefully soon I'll have a bunch of new stuff up, not that anyone really looks at this or my art for that matter. But whatever. It's a timewaster, and that's all I'm really looking for.

Me and Julie hit our 6 year anniversary last week, so that was interesting. It made me realize how many stupid fucking things I've really done, and how willing I was to throw away what might be the greatest thing I've ever had. I think more than anything, that's what hurts the most. She forgives me for every indiscretion and even those that didn't happen, I hate myself every day for ever caring about him. But I suppose the past should stay the past, even though it has a habit of tearing it's way into the present all too often. Not to mention history seems to be repeating itself with certain other individuals (This isn't 'Guiding Light' so I'll spare everyone the little details). I'm just at the point where I have to say "Who gives a fuck" to all the drama, all the He-Said-She-Said faggotry, and all the things that the 20-somethings apparently didn't get enough of in highschool. After Kevin, I think I've had my life's share of drama and then some. I'm not particularly in the mood to be tossed back into the grinder just yet. Give me a few more weeks of wonderful, stupid nothing with my lovely. Then you can come whining to me again about every stupid frivolity, everything you've done wrong that somehow I manage to do effortlessly. But until then,
Leave me the fuck alone.

Oh, and I'm still working on the script. If anyone remembers that. Yeah, Kevin's not ruining that for me, fuck that. That thing is such a part of me that the goddamn apocalypse won't take it away so...yeah.
Alls well I suppose?

I've bitched about it so many times in the past week, I'm not gonna bother dishing out this long, eclectic diatribe about how much I've been fucked over recently. Suffice it to say,
I'm not happy.

I'm tired of seeing people leave, sick of investing in someone who was barely here in the first place, sick of being completely fucking blinded by silly things like possibilities and hopes.
Stupid fucking me.

At the moment, the band's dead.
The drum kit's gone.
We're all fucked and broke.

Kevin turned into the biggest fucking asshole. I think the ironic part is that when the finality hit me, I had to sit there and think "Are you really fucking surprised?"
I warned everyone early on, too. I warned HIM early on.
The fucker said no one could hate him, and I'm proud to at least have that title, if no other.
Oh yeah, and I'm fucking sick of people making promises they couldn't even fathom keeping.
In all honestly, I'm sick of just about everything nowadays.

I've got no patience for peoples' bullshit anymore, whatever sympathy I had leftover finally seeped into the dirt and I think I'm all the better for it. At least, right now I can say that. In two hours, who knows, I'll probably be fucking miserable again and blaming myself for everyone else's problems. It's not like I'M the one who stays up late for everyone else. It's not like I'm the one who almost threw everything away for trash with a pretty face.
Don't blame me, I do that well enough myself thank you very much.

Well, I know it's been forever since I've updated (I don't see much reason, I doubt anyone reads these anyway..) but I'm bored and Julie's asleep so..
Break has been, thus far, interesting to say the least. I've said some things I never thought I would, dealt with some ridiculous bullshit, and almost did some ridiculous bullshit myself. While the job search is completely futile, my dad's come to the realization that he can't bitch at me about jobs that don't seem to exist. Welcome to Binghamton.

In good news, I've been writing again. A lot.
The story I've been working on (Lucid, I'll post it eventuallY) is up to 80 pages now, about 60% of the way through. The script is at a bit of a pause, mainly because we haven't had a chance to get everyone on the project together long enough to talk. I've cranked out two short stories in between, which is always fun too. The band's going as good as it can, what with Kevin living/working in PA now. It sucks only seeing him once a week, but it's much better than nothing, and Monday's practice went amazing. It's kind of dorky, but everytime after we spend 2-3 hours in that basement, I feel a little better. Even when we don't get anything done, when Kevin's dropping his drumsticks every other song, it's the most fun I could possibly imagine, and I wouldn't give it up for anything. Now that I got THAT faggotry out of my system..

The bad news of it is drama. Drama, drama, with a capital fucking D. I won't get into it, I'm happy enough to be out of it period. Suffice it to say that there's a reason I've got no close female friends. Now, I'll admit, a lot of said drama-at least in my own little brain-is thanks to my jealousy and bitterness, but goddamnit it's MY brain. I can complain about whatever I want.
But other than that..
Things are alright.
I hesitate to say good because, judging by past events I'm not in the mood to jinx this strange psuedo-comfort.
Right now, I'm doing just fine with fine.

Here's a funny little thing about me.
It seems the worse my life is going, the more work I actually seem to get done. For reasons that I'm not in the mood to go into (if you're that curious, just ask me, really) I've been pretty unhappy for the past..month, two months? Let it be said that Nietzsche was right in thinking of comfort as a negative thing. Comfort never prepares you for the amount of confusion I've been under lately, but again, besides the point. I've been working on a script based off of a series I've been writing for a while now (It's terribly gory and porn-tastic so I'll never be posting it up here, if for some reason you're interested, again, message me and I'd be happy to throw it your way) and am about 40% of the way through it. It's a nice feeling. I'm making quite a bit of headway on all three of the gigantic projects I've got coming up in college, have written some of my best music ever lately, and have cranked out a few new songs in the past few days. I only wonder if a few months down the line, all these songs will be irrelevant and I'll find myself right back where I started, alone somewhere, drinking something, hurting something, and having absolutely no one. But, that's just paranoia, and that's just me so there's nothing to worry about. There's that comfort again.

Irony.
Such a funny little thing.