01.13.2005 || 02h08

thoughts and basses

You see, the thing is I'm not supposed to be here. I'm only alive because the suicide I tried to get right was thwarted when my mother came home from work two hours early. I was 16. It was the year I took up bass playing and diddling M, the violinist who never wore a bra. I believe that I've been living on borrowed time ever since, and if I'm involved in something that's not making me happy, then I'm betraying the beautiful fortune or whatever it is that has allowed me to still be here. I'd rather be able to snap my fingers and fix those around me so that I can be with them forever, or fix myself so that I'd be a better bet, but that's just not possible. So I'll work on fixing myself so that next time around I'll come from a better place. I'm the only one I can help; I know that. We're all adult here.

Speaking of playing bass, i've spent the past ten years or so getting wet over this. That being said, I have never been able to justify a $1600 bass, just because I could never see myself making any money off playing. Now that I'm making money, I can justify it somewhat, but when they brought out the same sound and feel for seven hundred bones less... I can't help it. I'm laying my money down within a month. I played with one to-day, and my mind's made the fuck up. I know which songs I'd use it for, too...



||Gods save the Queen,
||cf

back || forth

older shite

One last little note... - 09.21.2006

de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006

Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006

More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006

Scary stuff - 05.25.2006



diaryland.com
Oh yeah, the page and everything
on it is ©2000 - 2005 to me, alright ?
don't copy without asking.

Original ©reation 2005