Just one of those "Life In General" posts.
One of those "I Write About My Life in Hopes that a Person Who Appreciates My Existence Like  I Appreciate Other Strangers' Existence on the Internet" posts.
One of those "Reminder of my Life in the Event I Should Ever Lose My Memory, Which is a Secret Anticipation of Mine" posts.

It seems like this year has not been a year to be on Blogger.
Don't get me wrong, a lot has happened, but it's that sheer volume of happening that has prevented me from speaking my mind around these parts.

Since the show with Self Proclaimed Narcissist in May I had the opportunity to join A Quiet Place for another show with SPN, and his friend Kevin Schlereth.
It was easily one of the best nights I have had and will have all year.
Before the show Martha showed me a fantastic comic book shop in Spokane by the name of Merlyn's.
The performances by Erik and Kevin were splendid, my best friend Brenna also played with another good friend Elizabeth Tesone.
AQP did a pretty good  job too, first show we've had with Elijah since the first one, plus we improvised an entire song live.
The real fun came with hanging out in the Shari's parking lot with Martha, Elizabeth, Brenna, Erik, and Kevin until 4:00 AM, laughing and talking and getting to know each  other's interests and mannerisms.
Erik was also kind enough to play every song request on our hearts.

Somewhere in there I failed to mention that Martha and I have started collecting comics, nearing 100, including some pretty neatly written, beatifully illustrated works, and some rarities.
It takes up a lot of our time and much of our income and we love it.

Martha and I have been dating for 9 and a half months.
We really enjoy one another.

The internship is still happening with Indie Vision Music, it's just slow at the moment,  I've had a lot to do and I've been wasting a lot of time with wasteful things.

I put in my two weeks for my summer job at Silverwood Theme Park, pursuing a part-time job at OfficeMax, which is right next to my home and pays more and sounds more fufilling.

I finished "Out of the Silent Planet" by C.S. Lewis: Breath-taking.
I read Kurt Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse Five": Captivating and not at all what the title suggests.
Currently on Lewis' "Perelandra".
Reading books and comic books is quite an enjoyable and time-worthy pasttime.

If you never hear from me again this Summer:
I'll be working on an experimental music video game with my dear friend J.
I'll need every sincere prayer your lips can utter: Christ makes all things new and I need a newness of focus, faith, and understanding to fight the battle for my soul.


My heart will be poured out in but a moment.
In but a moment it will be ignored.

All I see is a fog of poison.
I feel completely broken on the inside.

Stand up for yourself; speak for yourself; make your own decisions.
I act solely based upon what is desired of me by others and the inconsistencies/irresponsibilities/shortfallings of my personal existence.


Time to Reflect on Past, Present, and Future Failures

I never really knew what I was getting into when I decided to lead a lifestyle filled with ambition and hope. Realizing just how capable and talented I really am, or rather the opposite.
I feel to be subpar in everything that I do; incompetent, inadequate to those who've come before me.
I realize there is such a thing as a due process of development, but with bigger steps taken I am falling more and more each day.
My goals as a musician have vanished as I take on a mindless place of employment I still manage to screw up to a potentially major degree on a daily basis.
Creative works are half-conceived, a fourth executed, and a sixteenth received at all. God only knows to what fraction of an extent of that reception is positive or even considered for more than a minute.
My blog is nearly dead, my post rate dropping from every other day to every other week.
Interning for IVM is incredibly disheartening as I am slow to post reviews and have been making mistakes from misspelling the feature's title to allowing my bias to play into my overall scoring, both which were met with severe criticism.

My stomach is cringing.

I have not gotten a call back from my interviewer, which would seal my fate at my parents home and my regressive job if my assumptions were to be true.

Above all, the reader is more than likely to, at this present moment, find myself either extending an unwanted invitation to a public pity party, to disagree with my "rash" personal criticisms, or to find myself in a lack of faith that everything will turn out, since it is in the Lord's hands.

I don't even want to speak of how I am continually failing the Lord.

I want to bury my face in a silent, darkened room. But it's that week were all eyes and lights and ears and voices point their focus on me. There is no escape from the friction of foreign love for me and self-hatred.

I just want a break.