Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Thank God for Clonazepam

I just thought I should say hi.

I'm glad you did, farmboy. I've been thinking about you. Has school started?

I'm at work. I am deadly depressed and anxious like you wouldn't believe. Thank God for Clonazepam, I tell you what. This whole fuckin' period, this, what, six month period of the tearing down of farmboy's hopes?

Anyways, this all continues and now I'm working on another way of dealing with this shit. I'll tell you when I know more.

I hate that I'm paying so much attention and wasting all this time and energy on this job.

It'll be over soon, farmboy.

Yeah, but now it's gotten to the point where I can't conceive of good things happening and I'm afraid of every step I take, every encounter I have.

You still have a guitar and an imagination, farmboy.

I'm so thankful, man, you wouldn't believe.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Rat in a maze

So I'm not going back to my old school. So everything I've done has been in vain. All the phone calls, all the emails, all the fuckin' ass-kissing. None of it matters. All of the worrying, the anxiety, the anger, the pains in my stomach. I have not been listened to.

This is what I do: I run around like a rat in a maze, frantically, trying to get out, but there's no escape. I do everything I can only to run into brick walls at every turn. This is how I live my life.

I don't know about my friends at the coffeehouse. They're not even aware that I'm being left out of the big concert they're having, even though I was asked to play. They are my only friends in this fuckin' city and I'm not really part of them.


I don't know what to do anymore, man. I don't fuckin' know. And there's no relief, there's no release, there's no...there's no...

No what, farmboy?

Hope, man, I just don't know. I have a hard time saying there's no hope. And I don't know if that's a good thing or not. I may just be stupid.

You're not stupid, farmboy.

Man, I don't know. I've done all this red tape stuff. I've talked to the union. I've prayed.

You know, my life has been shit since 2002...

The year your father died?

Something happened to me. To my brain. And I've never ever gotten close to recovering...

farmboy, this is a lot to handle right now, taking on the past nine years. But remember all of this, so you call tell your counselor.

I may have to kill myself...


It's not just this job thing. Or my friends at the coffeehouse. It's that, I don't know, maybe there is no chance for me. Things have been so bad for so long...

farmboy, listen to me. Take an anxiety pill. Do whatever you need to do -- if you need to go to the store, do it now. Then come home and take care of yourself. Do whatever it takes. Watch some movie or something, play internet games, look for diversions.

I'm so depressed, man. (farmboy starts crying)

I know, farmboy, I know. I wish I could do something. It's not fair, I know.

Fairness has nothing to do with anything in this world.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

It's not going to get better, is it?

Man, I hate living in dread. So I'm thinking about a time where I'll play gigs and have friends. Where I can have adventures and feel the winds of other places, places where I'm not supposed to be. Where I can feel loved and I can also love. And I have to believe that day is coming, 'cause I've been so worried and anxious and hated-filled and mostly afraid. I'm so fuckin' tired, man. I'm just fried.

I know, farmboy. I know.

(farmboy starts crying) It's not going to get better, is it?

It will.

Farmboy, right now you're seeing everything through the eyes of your depression. Or, as you have said, mental illness. Okay?


Life has been bad before and life has been good before. Just relax. It'll work out.

Okay. I hope so.

Relax, farmboy. Breathe.

(farmboy takes a deep breath, holds it, and exhales. And repeats.)

You'll be okay, farmboy. Everything's going to be okay.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

I love self-medicating

I'm depressed. I have no energy and I need to go to my brother's house and wash clothes. I'm trying not to let my fuckin' negativity take over.

From the sounds of thing, farmboy, it sounds like you've been pretty isolated lately.

Since I came back from California, the only person I know that I've seen has been my counselor, which was yesterday. I am isolated. I'm sad and I'm trying to hold my anger in. It may be a good time to numb myself. I love self-medicating.


Look, in just a couple of days I'll be at work. I don't want to get started.

I can imagine.

Just take care of yourself, okay? I know this sounds trite, but it'll all get better.

I don't know, man. I hope so. I hope so like you wouldn't fuckin' believe.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Only I can prevent forest fires

Man, let me tell you. Today has been a pretty lousy...well, no, it was a morning that was so fuckin' frustrating that I went to see the counselor guy and, fuck, you know at some point I'm gonna start to crying and then they'll be some tears sliding down my face gotta understand, I ain't much for crying. Most of the time I can't cry.

Is it the going back to work, farmboy?

It's the fuckin' going to a new job where I'm doing something i hate, that I'm not qualified to do, that I'm fuckin' lousy at doing. The last couple of days have been frustrating because the fuckin' school system...hey, can we change the topic of conversation? I've already wasted too much of the summer on this stupid-ass job. Fuck, man.

Let's talk about you for a change.

Not letting you off that easy, farmboy. What did your counselor say?

He said that my life is fuckin' lousy...

Come on, farmboy, did he use those words? But he did say that, in so many words. If you'd fuckin' let me finish...

Go ahead and finish, farmboy.

He said my life is lousy right now and that it's justifiably lousy, But he says I shouldn't make it worse by piling guilt on top of it all and beating myself up. He says it's not my fault. I felt like I was in Good Will Hunting, you know?

I totally agree with your counselor, farmboy. You have a habit of that kind of thinking in your life.

I know. I'd make some crack about the Catholic Church, but then I'd really feel guilty. I'm thinking I should maybe stay away from that line of thought, man.

What I'm saying is that you have a tendency to pile shit on top of shit. Excuse my language.

No way, man. I ain't gonna fuckin' forgive your fuckin' language. Your motherfuckin' cocksuckin' language...

I thought you'd get a kick out of that.

Yeah, I liked it. You need to cuss a whole lot more, man. It's good for you.

So I'm glad the counselor guy said that. 'Cause I was feeling guilty. I joke about it, but guilt is the main motivating factor in my life. Big time.

He sounds like he's a good counselor.

I think he is. It depends what I give him to work with, If I go in there and just cry and complain, he really can't do much. I mean, he can't read my fuckin' mind, you know? I gotta do my part. Only I can prevent forest fires.

What are you going to do between tonight and Tuesday?

Smoke weed, play guitar, the same old same old. Do some research on how to present myself on Kickstarter. Work on songs. Dread Tuesday and the ten months following that.

That's so sad, farmboy.

It the God-honest truth, man. Life is sad right now.

But it's not my fault.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

This is a very good thing

Hey, farmboy, you're going back to work soon, aren't you?

Yes, but let's not talk about my fuckin' job yet, okay?

Sure. Whatever you say. What do you want to talk about?

My Kickstarter project got accepted, man. I'm hoping I can finalize everything by the beginning of September.

This is a good thing.

This is a very good thing.

Now I just need to decide how much my financial goal will be. I was gonna go for 3000 dollars, but I'm considering raising that another thousand and using a producer.

Who would you use, farmboy?

That's the thing. I don't know.

So you'll have to do some research.

Looks like it. That could be a lot of fun, you know, seeing who produced who and listening to songs on You Tube. Talking to people. Stuff like that.

That's all good news, farmboy. A new recording!

Yeah. Maybe I'll hand out "It's a CD!" cigars at the release concert, man.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

I am your dog

I am your dog
I've got a bone to chew
I may look asleep
but I been watching you
I'm watching you
as you eat
and sleep
and play
every human word you say
I'll start at the beginning
here's the prologue:
I am your dog

I am your dog
I have big sad eyes
you probably think I'm
but that's not true
(though I'm above average)
this is a dream
where I can speak your language
I'm just trying
to start a dialogue
I am your dog

you probably know this
I hope you do
everything I'm telling you
is true
'cause the fact is
I love you
as much as
you love me

I am your dog
my loyalty is taken
by you
when you give me bacon
but you
keep the chocolate away
with you
everything will be okay
and you know
that ain't no lie
your dog am I

you probably know this
I know you do
everything I'm telling you
is true
'cause the fact is
I love you
as much as
you love me

you may say I'm
but you shouldn't
be surprised
look inside
and you will see
you're a lot like me
and together we
will make it through the fog
I am your
I am your
I am your dog

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

haiku x 3

thank you for trying
you thought nobody noticed
I am proud of you
look -- stars are burning
bright in an old pitch-black sky
hear the coyotes
summer's almost gone
go outside and play guitar
hey, time's a-wasting!

Monday, August 22, 2011

drugs are for young people

So,man, here's some stuff I jotted down today:
drugs are for young people
because they think they'll never die
because they're young
and strong
and maybe stupid
they haven't learned yet
that every moment
must be believed for itself
Nice. Good job, farmboy.
Thanks, man. I appreciate it, I do. I don't know what this might fuckin' be, you know. If it's anything. You know, I wrote all those songs when I was in California, and now it's fuckin' killing me to make those decisions. It's like, I don't know. But I gotta make those decisions. Gotta be as ruthless as you can.
And I gotta learn to accept that it's okay to write a lot of stuff to get a little that interests you enough to work on it. And it doesn't even feel like work when it interests you to the point of -- heh heh, get this, man -- unconscious obsession. How's that for a phrase?
Sorry, farmboy, but unconscious obsession sounds like some kind of perfume named after a celebrity.
(farmboy laughs) That's my problem! I could be in advertising. I could be like one of those Mad Men-types that smokes cigarettes and drinks and has exciting sexual affairs.
You could...
I would love to have an exciting sexual affair, let me tell you. Think of the songs I could get out of something like that.
It would be fun, too.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

these problems of mine

there must be a solution
to these problems of mine
I'm hoping and I'm praying
it arrives in due time
'cause the deadlines are coming
and the bills are past due
the rent needs to be paid
and I don't have a clue
of how I'm gonna do it
how I'm gonna do it
but I know that I'm gonna get it done

there must be answers
to these questions I ask
I'm listening and watching
and I'm up to the task
'cause the thoughts keep exploding
all over my brain
and I don't know where to go
at this stage of the game
but I'm gonna do it
I don't know how I'll do it
but I know that I'm gonna get it done

I'm betting that someday soon
Life's gonna give me some elbow room

there's got to be a reason
for these problems of mine
I know one day I'll see it
when they're dead and left behind
all I need is patience
and a mustard seed of faith
a burning hope inside my heart
that I've got just what it takes
'cause I know I'm gonna do it
I know I'm gonna do it
I know that I'm gonna get it done
I know I'm gonna do it
I'll say "There ain't nothing to it"
I know that I'm gonna get it done

that's when the answers come

I don't know what to do with these feelings
I am hungry for a way to stay numb
so I'll bang my head against this brick wall
'cause that's when the answers come, boys
that's when the answers come

I will sacrifice my share of water
lemonade will never touch my tongue
but I'll make love to this bottle of whiskey
'cause that's when the answers come, boys
that's when the answers come

trouble walks a straight line to my door
it disregards the lock
and drops its suitcase on my floor
and when I can't take it any more
it runs away
to come back another day

I don't need a girl who will love me
if I see someone to care for I will run
shallow and insincere is what I'm craving
'cause that's when the answers come, boys
that's when the answers come
I'm in the mood for a little misbehaving
'cause that's when the answers come, boys
that's when the answers come

a peaceful life

all I want is a peaceful life
with space to stretch and room to breathe
where fresh fruit and vegetables
are not forbidden luxuries
where I can watch my children play
without the fear that one will stray
a good home for my kids and wife
all I want is a peaceful life

all I need is a bench to sit
a front porch to watch the setting sun
a glass of wine and a hand to hold
when the hard work of the day is done
where we can watch the girls and boys
make their fair share of noise
and see the laughter in their eyes
all I need is a peaceful life

all I want is somewhere to be safe
all I need is a little faith

all I ask is a place to rest
to lay these weary bones at night
no worrying about the rent and bills
and groceries when the money's tight
a job to go to every day
where I can make a living wage
no sounds of gunshots
no siren's cries
all I ask for is a peaceful life

all I want is hope for a better day
each night I lie in bed and pray

all I want is a peaceful life
no fear in every step I take
where my wife won't need to cry
where a man can get an even break
where the mortgage and the bills are paid
and there's no reason to be afraid
where hope is not an empty lie
I know it's here
just out of sight
all I want is a peaceful life
all I want
all I need
all I ask is a reason to believe
all I want is a peaceful life

home stretch of summer

the home stretch of summer is upon us
the kids are dreading going back to school
that big bag of charcoal's almost empty
the water's needing chlorine
in the community pool
it's a sad, sad day
when September comes its way
and leaves turn from green to brown
it's the best time of year
but the end is drawing near
we're in the home stretch of summer
the home stretch of summer is fast approaching
you'll have to wait till another day
to polish up the surfboard and use your sunscreen
put those Beach Boys compact discs away
it's such a sad, sad time
leaving summer's warmth behind
autumn's waiting just around the bend
it's the best time of year
but old man winter's coming near
we're in the home stretch of summer

I know, huh, man?

Copied this from which is this...people link to stuff and it's a message board,'s so fuckin' entertaining, man, it's fuckin' dangerous.

(farmboy hands the interviewer a piece of paper.)

This is pretty long, farmboy. But there are a lot of songwriting ideas here.

I know, huh, man? It's long but I think think I'm going to answer these things.

* * *

What was the happiest moment of your life? The saddest?

Who was the most important person in your life? Can you tell me about him or her?

Who has been the biggest influence on your life? What lessons did that person teach you?

Who has been the kindest to you in your life?

It’s been said that after they pass away, the most important people in our lives “live within us.” Is there anyone from your past that lives within you?

What are the most important lessons you’ve learned in life?

What is your earliest memory?

Are there any words of wisdom you’d like to pass along to me?

What are you proudest of in your life?

When in life have you felt most alone?

How has your life been different than what you’d imagined?

How would you like to be remembered?

Do you have any regrets?

What does your future hold?

Is there anything that you’ve never told me but want to tell me now?

Is there something about me that you’ve always wanted to know but have never asked?

If you could interview anyone from your life living or dead, but not a celebrity, who would it be and why?

What is your first memory of me?

Was there a time when you didn’t like me?

What makes us such good friends?

How would you describe me? How would you describe yourself?

Where will we be in 10 years? 20 years?

Do you think we’ll ever lose touch with each other?

Is there anything that you’ve always wanted to tell me but haven’t?

Where did you grow up?

What was your childhood like?

Who were your favorite relatives?

Do you remember any of the stories they used to tell you?

How did you and grandma/grandpa meet?

What was my mom/dad like growing up?

Do you remember any songs that you used to sing to her/him? Can you sing them now?

Was she/he well-behaved?

What is the worst thing she/he ever did?

What were your grandparents like?

How would you like to be remembered?

Are you proud of me?

When did you first find out that you’d be a parent? How did you feel?

Can you describe the moment when you saw your child for the first time?

How has being a parent changed you?

What are your dreams for your children?

Do you remember when your last child left home for good?

Do you have any favorite stories about your kids?

Are you proud of me?

When and where were you born?

What was it like?

Who were your parents?

What were your parents like?

How was your relationship with your parents?

Did you get into trouble? What was the worst thing you did?

Do you have any siblings? What were they like growing up?

What did you look like?

How would you describe yourself as a child? Were you happy?

What is your best memory of childhood? Worst?

Did you have a nickname? How’d you get it?

Who were your best friends? What were they like?

How would you describe a perfect day when you were young?

What did you think your life would be like when you were older?

Do you have any favorite stories from your childhood?

Did you enjoy school?

What kind of student were you?

What would you do for fun?

How would your classmates remember you?

Are you still friends with anyone from that time in your life?

What are your best memories of grade school/high school/college/graduate school? Worst memories?

Was there a teacher or teachers who had a particularly strong influence on your life? Tell me about them.

Do you have any favorite stories from school?

Do you have a love of your life?

When did you first fall in love?

Can you tell me about your first kiss?

What was your first serious relationship?

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Do you ever think about previous lovers?

What lessons have you learned from your relationships?

How did you meet your husband/wife?

How did you know he/she was “the one”?

How did you propose?

What were the best times? The most difficult times?

Did you ever think of getting divorced?

Did you ever get divorced? Can you tell me about it?

What advice do you have for young couples?

Do you have any favorite stories from your marriage or about your husband/wife?

What do you do for a living?

Tell me about how you got into your line of work.

Do you like your job?

What did you think you were going to be when you grew up?

What did you want to be when you grew up?

What lessons has your work life taught you?

If you could do anything now, what would you do? Why?

Do you plan on retiring? If so, when? How do you feel about it?

Do you have any favorite stories from your work life?

Can you tell me about your religious beliefs/spiritual beliefs? What is your religion?

Have you experienced any miracles?

What was the most profound spiritual moment of your life?

Do you believe in God?

Do you believe in the after-life? What do you think it will be like?

If you were to meet a God, what would you say to them?

Can you tell me about your illness?

Do you think about dying? Are you scared?

How do you imagine your death?

Do you look at your life differently now than before you were diagnosed?

Do you have any last wishes?

If you were to give advice to me or my children, or even children to come in our family, what would it be?

What have you learned from life? The most important things?

Has this illness changed you? What have you learned?

How do you want to be remembered?

What is your ethnic background?

Where is your mom’s family from? Where is your dad’s family from?

Have you ever been there? What was that experience like?

What traditions have been passed down in your family?

Who were your favorite relatives?

Do you remember any of the stories they used to tell you?

What are the classic family stories? Jokes? Songs?

Were you in the military?

Did you go to war? What was it like?

How did war change you?

During your service, can you recall times when you were afraid?

What are your strongest memories from your time in the military?

What lessons did you learn from this time in your life?

Thursday, August 18, 2011

in memory's kitchen

what they ate in the camp
was potato peels and scraps
hand-me-downs of hunger
salvaged from the daily trash
bits of cabbage and carrots
not good enough for stew
in old Czechoslovakia
in 1942
but in memory's kitchen
everyone was fed
chocolate tortes and strudel
Bavarian bread
recipes remembered
by those who survived
in memory's kitchen
everyone was satisfied
the women of Terezin
during the Third Reich
wrote family recipes
in the still morning light
recalling ingredients
in their finest hand
for their children's children
when peace would visit again
fresh cream and sweet butter
eggs, meat and fish
history in each bite
love on each dish
blessings and places
set at the table
in memory's kitchen
every belly was full
in memory's kitchen
everyone ate so fine
roast goose and potatoes
and the good kosher wine
for an unseen people
far from the war
in memory's kitchen
no one went hungry

That's one of the songs, man. "In Memory's Kitchen." Inspired by an article in Bon Appetit* at my stepmother's house. That's all there was to read! (laughs) The book it's about is also called "In Memory's Kitchen." I don't remember who wrote the book, but it's in the article.
I like it. What do you think, farmboy?
I think it has potential. I'm hoping it's not too preachy or obvious, but I'll work on it till it's not. I don't know about the lines with "history" or "love." It's that fuckin' "show, don't tell" writing stuff, you know.
What did you study in college, farmboy?
Journalism and English comp.
It shows.
It better.
* "Save Your Recipes Before It's Too Late" by Monica Bhide (Bon Appetit March 2011)

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

I am more than lucky

So, farmboy, how was Ventura County, California. Nice weather?

I'm sure the Pacific Northwest had better weather. It was like we switched places. California was kinda cold, a lot -- I mean a lot -- of gray. Not that it ruined anything, though, 'cause I saw plenty of sun when I would go inland.

Did you enjoy yourself? You were having some issues with anxiety when you left here.

I was anxious and worrying and angry for a whole fuckin' lot of the trip, man. And that was fucked. But I had some good times. The family reunion was great. It was fuckin' amazing, man. I love those people, you know. I am more than lucky -- I am blessed, man. I have a great family.

But, man, I worried, I stressed out, I tell you. And I was incredibly angry all the fuckin' time. It was like any little thing was a symbol of disrespect aimed squarely at me. I mean, I took it personal. And that's fucked to feel and that's fucked for others to be around. I was, like, fuckin' pissed off at everything. And that's because I was majorly unhappy, you know. I was unhappy when I left here. You remember?

I do.

But there were some good times. And then the best stuff happened...

The songwriting?

Fuck, man, I wrote, like, seven or eight songs...

You lost count, farmboy?

(laughs) Well, I ain't sure, man. I think it's seven. I was writing pretty much every day after the family reunion was over. And it was good, man, I think I may have at least three keepers. New material for the CD! I still need to look at all the stuff here. But just the experience of being that creative...fuck, man, there ain't nothing better.

That what you were born to do, farmboy.

Fuckin' right, man.