My Backwards Song

My Backwards Song

" " - Joe Satriani

I needed some instrumental music this evening. And I think I might have to sit down and work out the few Satriani tunes I'd be capable of playing. I've never been big on the 80s shred-guitar thing, but a few of them were great, and damn, I really do love a lot of Joe's stuff. So much more true thought and melody there.

I found a woman near me on myspace. A couple years older than me. Killer blonde. Absolutely beautiful and interesting to read about. She comes off quite sane and sophisticated, but with a good sense of humour. So I sent her a friend request.

She wrote me back.

"I have to say that I'm not interested in dating you, but you are so decadent I simply had to accept the friend request. You're funny!"

She called me "decadent." Wow, I really like this one. The irony is, that page isn't NEARLY as twisted as the shit I write here.

She told me why she's not interested, and I'm glad I've done this - I put on my page for all the world to see that I have a love affair with alcohol and don't feel like apologizng for it anymore. So she'll talk to me and that's it. Good for her. I totally respect that, and it's why I felt like putting it up there in the first place - I'd rather get that out of the way and be honest about it than have some poor woman get into me only to find out later that I'm working hard on a career as a professional drunkard.

The one I mentioned a while back (her pic was up for several hours, I never leave those up long) the incredibly hot 19-year old blonde, well it looks like she has found herself a regular guy. Damn. Not that I really thought I stood a chance anyway. Still, I hope to talk some.

I'm trying very hard to pull myself back, get my goddamn penis to stop taking over every fucking moment of the day, and simply appreciate having female friends and their perspective again. I have several online, they're great to me, and I need that.

Actually, I could use one really excellent "platonic" friend I can actually hang out with. That used to happen. I remember my friend Sharon, from years back. We worked together for a while and kept in touch very regularly even when she moved an hour away. I was very attracted to her and she knew it (not like I'm capable of hiding it) but I was quite happy just to have such a good friend. We spent a lot of time together, more than I did with most of my guy friends at the time. I miss that.

The fact is, I don't really hang out with ANYONE down here. Anything I do socially off the computer is up in Indiana. Greg, you and I need to get together. Sorry i haven't replied to your email, I've been bad about that with everyone lately.

I've become very insular during the week. I've tried to go out here and there, but I've not really enjoyed it much, and I hardly ever have the money anymore. Last night with Stanhope was the longest I've stayed in a bar (other than with the band, of course) in a long time. I tried the coffeeshop thing, but that bored me. The other D, the redhead I hung out with a while back, is cool and I'd like to do that again, but something tells me our connection is going to be rather slim.

So obviously I need to hang out in front of high schools and wait for the senior girls to come driving by.

I'n JOKING, assholes.

My head is definitely spending too much time up my ass, though, and I feel my self-importance meter going way into the red everytime I sit down to write this shit. Let's face it, you've really gotta love yourself a lot to write about yourself as much as I do. The fact that I also hate myself so much makes for an interesting combo-platter, I suppose.

Goddamn it. I just don't feel funny right now. Somebody hand me a dick joke, please.

Money is bad. I was going to see Stanhope again tonight, but I decided against it a couple hours ago. I'm going to shoot for the Sunday show - I'll have Katie for the day, and after I take her back home, I can head over there.

Since I'm not going out, and because I was a fucking WRECK this morning - i was kinda fucked up most of the day - I'm taking a night off drinking. I've had to drink less anyway, I just can't afford it too much, but I've had SOMETHING every night except for this past Monday for weeks now. Gotta take a break and clear that system out a bit. Lots of water and coffee today. Gotta big dish of beef chow mein. Aaa-roo. Werewolves of Lebanon.

Man, Satriani could get some sweet clean tones out of that gee-tar.

I think I might take a shot at learning Ice Nine. Good Vonnegut reference, killer piece of music. Ya wanna talk tone, he's all over the place there. I love that shit. Anyone reading this who doesn't have a copy of Satriani's Surfing With The Alien - you're missing out.

I sold the guitars to the store. Less money than I wanted, but enough. Coming back home from picking up the check (they also pay me my student money by check usually) I had on Keneally.

And I'm stranded and don't have a dime to phone
I ought to be alone
I landed on something wrong
I ought to be more strong
Stuck in a backwards song

Yeah, I know that feeling.

Love,
Dougie

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I wish my brain had an on/off switch. I can't fucking sleep. I'm tired. I'm DONE. I can't take any more input today.

But NOOOOOOOOOO, my fucking dipshit brain is still scrambling around for more shit to feed the fire.

I've learned to embrace certain aspects of being ADD/bipolar, to the extent that I'm actually GLAD that I have these "problems." I firmly believe now that my creativity and my sense of humour would be very watered-down without these "disorders." As Stanhope said last night, being ADD is where the ideas come from. It's GOOD to have some of that shit swirling around in there.

But it obviously has the bad shit too, and this is the time of night I become irritable and pissy, because I'm fucking tired and can't sleep. Thank fuck it isn't to the extent it was a couple years ago, when I was convinced I was going to lose my mind completely, but it's been hitting me harder lately. Discontent is brewing harshly. If not for my weekends and my time with my daughter, I'd snap. I'm sure of that.

A beautiful new picture of a beautiful young lady here. I wish she'd write again. This picture is tearing me apart, hitting me square in the chest, and reminding me that I want so much more than my dick does. Just one obscure '60s lyric text messaged across those miles would make my heart swim right now.

I miss you.