Category: Uncategorized

I heard she is doing good. Or maybe that was my hope. Voices confused for real. I heard she was going to meetings. Is she still? Is she doing well? Is she recieving the attention that I could no longer give? I hope the choice i made was the right one, but it seemed the only one that would have changed anything at all. I hope she is doing good. I hope good is doing her well. She deserves so much more than the state in which i left her. I hope she heard me when I told her I love her. Is she still? I hope she is hearing that I still love her. Voices confused for real.

I want my mohawk back. A couple more months of hair growth and i can resurrect it.

I’m currently sitting in my last class of school. 30 more minutes and I’m done. I’m so done. Well, actually I’m not… I have to make up two classes if i want to graduate and get my certificate. Flash Technologies II and Web Marketing. The first I was so busy (read: fucked on drugs) the week that the final project was done I never handed it in. So I have an incomplete. Web Marketing was a fucking joke. The content was 6 years old and so fucking obvious that it was insulting. I showed up for maybe 3 out of 6 classes. And I missed the final day of class resulting in failing the final because i was fucked on dope (read: on day 4 and psychotic).

But still, even if i have to make up those courses to get a meaningless piece of paper proving that I actually completed the program, I’m really fucking stoked that I am essentially DONE!

What’s next for me? I don’t know. I am going to continue living one day to the next, cause thinking about the seeming innevitability of being unemployed is a dismal and depressing delusion.

Went to Queens of the Stone Age last night with JR. It was facking sweeet. I have a fire in my belly for drums. “The spice in your tongue is like the taste in your bones for the bass.” Gonna drive to Seattle this weekend to pick up my kit. Starting a band: Straight Pepper Diet.

we are alone here. i’m alone pursuing a glimmer of hope which i saw as a child and and feel destined to fulfill. it is my only purpose. all else is fictional. all else is an act.:. i dreamt we were at The Globe. a faceless crowd witnessed as we witnessed only ourselves. i fell back asleep and into a dream where you spoke in metaphors and tongues and i understood you entirely because it was my fantasy too and our tongues were connected at birth. for a moment the costumes shot off us in to the dirt and reflected in your eye was a glimmer of hope that i confused for yours, but it was only my reflection. later, after tea we embraced eyes shut for two centuries enrobed in each others skin. the others’ warmth enough to satisfy our sperfluous desires.

i dreamed about you last night. you had a role as the female counterpart. I was Winston and you were Julia in that pastoral scene from 1984. The utopian grassy green world outside the gloominess of Oceania. There, everything was perfect. You and I were together and okay for as long as that dream lasted. I savor it still.

overwhelmingly vulnerable I find
affirmation in your ignorance of my passes
fortifying my self doubt
that I cannot find comfort in your shadow
or become accustomed to your presence

I was at Studio 54 late last night. Beating on drums. Learning Pro Tools.

I woke up this morning after 5 hours sleep with a harsh cramp in my neck/shoulder. Boxing might have something to do with this. We got a heavy bag in our studio last week and it’s my new way to focus energy and stay warm when hours on the computer suck all the heat from my arms. I’m actually getting alright at punching.

I’ve been at school for 50 minutes without coffee. I need coffee. So here’s some recent art. The second design will appear on El Kartel’s clothing line, Devotion 5 this spring.

nokin, the dark and El Kartel present…

The tool that saved our place from burning down.

New work by me and the dark at El Kartel this Saturday…

It’s been raining for so long… Or, I guess I remember it being nice out… Now I’m talking about the weather, which is inherently lame, but Hastings is oh so much grosser when it’s raining.

Saw a syringe yesterday on the sidewalk… Had a thought of taking in to the needle exchange for a fresh one, but i kept walking.

As the days pass my spiritual connection seems to whither. I’ve relapsed a lot. I know a lot about what it feels like to be clean and get high and get clean and get high and get clean and get high. I don’t have the same experience as those in the fellowship who have been clean since they first were told–that there is a solution to their problems dealing with life that lead to the necessity to ‘medicate’ with drugs to feel okay. I’ve had glimpses of this solution. But I suppose I’ve always lacked a certain faith in the solution, that it will work, which i think is very necessary for it to even work. A fucking leap of faith. But back to what i was talking about about the whithering connection… This connection is really the core of the solution for me. If I don’t have to deal with life, if there’s some power that I’m connected to on a spiritual level I can cope with life. But as time goes on, I get really busy sober. I wake up usually not too stoked to be alive, usually not too stoked to have to deal with life. But then I am barraded by requests and jobs to do stuff. This never happened to me while using. I used to wake up and wonder how my life got to be so shitty. Then I would spend all my time finding ways to distract from and deal with my crazed head. This usually involved drugs cause they worked really well for this for a while. And I would do whatever, whoever to get them…. blah blah blah…. shudup nick

Been playing drums a lot lately. Well, the past few days- the extent of my RAM. what a geek. My right hand is ripped and covered in blisters. It feels really fucking good to be playing again. Tonight a few friends and I jammed at Pete’s studio down Hastings. There was a few times when we really sounded good… And i dreamed of our future in a band, on tour, in the studio, the common bond amongst us, the freeflow of creativity. It also filled me with fear. I am affraid of being inadequate. >>>>>

I am becoming painfully vulnerable lately. A total anxiety case. Afraid of so much. It’s as if all my fears are rising to the surface and exposed for all to toy with. I am grateful I have friends who care about me. Who really care to help me. Who really don’t want to hurt me. I do the same for them. Brotherly/sisterly love. Feels good.

This is getting long.