quiet and sleep

I have no words to say
no thoughts worth thinking
what I need is quiet
and sleep
and peace, sweet peace
to help me remember
why it's okay
to be alive

It's so exciting to be part of pop culture!

Man, let me tell you, I didn't have a busy weekend and it was fuckin' great. I smoked some weed that I had saved up for this weekend and played guitar and wrote. 'Course I also jerked off, but let's not talk about that.

Yes, let's. What are you doing tonight, farmboy?

Just hanging out, man. Debating whether to try to watch the conclusion of Breaking Bad tonight or save it till tomorrow. The whole fuckin' show ends tonight, man! It's so exciting to be part of pop culture!

A lot of people have been waiting for this episode.

It's been a great ride, man. My props to Vince Gilligan.

Then it's back to mundaneville with the day job and the money problems and the frustrations of being part of the working class.

But it's been a good weekend.

It's been a good weekend.

drift out to sea, rewrite one

the world keeps turning
fire still burns
and I will always wait
for your return
lost in a world
full of doubt and fear
you are the reason
that I'm still here

          take me to the ocean
          point me towards home
          back to a safety
          I have never known
          you sail the Pacific
          effortlessly
          as you 
          drift out to sea

goodbye old paint
my dark-eyed friend
my true compadre
to the very end
you are the one
I'll be missing most
chasing the waves
on a summer coast

          take me to the ocean
          to the town of my birth
          back to a safety
          for which I've always searched
          you sail the Pacific
          effortlessly
          as you 
          drift out to sea

as sailors trust the silver
in the stars above
I'll always know
the presence of your love

          take me to the ocean
          cast me with the wind
          back to a safety
          that has always been
          you sail the Pacific
          effortlessly
          as you 
          drift out to sea
          as you 
          drift out to sea

the world keeps turning
fire still burns

drift off to sea (fire still burns)

the world keeps turning
fire still burns
and I'm always waiting
for your return
lost in a childhood
of doubt and fear
you are the reason
that I'm still here

          take me down to the ocean
          point me towards home
          back to a safety
          I have never known
          I see you sail the Pacific
          effortlessly
          in my heart
          as you drift off to sea

goodbye old paint
my dark-eyed friend
my true compadre
to the very end
you are the one
I'll be missing most
chasing the waves
on a summer coast


          take me down to the ocean
          to the town of my birth
          back to a safety
          for which I've always searched
          I see you sail the Pacific
          effortlessly
          in my heart
          as you drift off to sea

as sailors trust the silver
in the stars above
I'll always know
the guidance of your love

          take me down to the ocean
          cast me towards the wind
          back to a safety
          that has always been
          I see you sail the Pacific
          effortlessly
          in my heart
          as you drift off to sea

          in my heart
          as you drift off to sea


the world keeps turning
fire still burns

This life thing, man

I'm tired, man. And impatient. I want Friday to appear now.

It's coming, farmboy. Tomorrow is Friday and you'll have time to rest.

It's about fuckin' time. This working five days a week just fuckin' sucks. And you can't complain because when you do everybody goes "At least you have a job."

Don't worry. I won't tell you that. You have a right to be dissatisfied if you're dissatisfied. 

Good. 'Cause I hate being lectured. I hate being told how I should feel. I hate being told "You can't feel that way." 'Cause I do feel that way, you know? I can't help it. Every second I spend doing something else is time I don't spend doing music.

I don't know, man. Seems like lately I'm just pissed off at everything. That's, like, all I ever do any more. It fuckin' sucks and it's not healthy.

Do you ever practice deep breathing? Do you try to control your thoughts, farmboy?

More and more I find I have to control them. Because my mind, man, my crazy fucked-up mind just tends to focus on shit that's just fuckin' unpleasant. Like, I woke up this morning and thought about a situation that happened a couple of years ago that was devastating. And I'm, like, why am I thinking about this shit?

So did you start thinking about something else?

I did, and I forgot about what I was thinking about until now. Which means now I have to think about something else again. Fuck.

Man, it's just all so fuckin' confusing. This life thing, man, I may never have it all figured out.

None of us do, farmboy. And those who think they do are sadly mistaken. In other words, you're just like everybody else.

Oh, boy. Now this world and the human race are in real trouble, man.

speechless

I am speechless
I am tired
I want to eat things made of sugar
I am anxious
I want Friday
I am ready for payday
I want marijuana
(the strong stuff
the zombie weed)
I want to sleep late
and have bacon and hash browns
for breakfast
I want a banjo that's not broken
I want someone
to pay my visa bill
I want to have
rough and rowdy sex
that lasts for days
with a girl from the country
who will teach me things
I want
I want
I want
to be someone else
I want
to be
what I really am

keep on trying 2

I am thinking
back to you and me
and how it seemed
so easy and free
but I guess it
wasn't meant to be
there's no guarantee
but to keep on trying

That would be the smart thing

Fuckin' Monday, man. Four more days.

You'll make it, farmboy. You always do.

I know. It's just so...so fuckin' redundant, you know.

Redundant?

Well, that's not the right word. I mean, it's just the same fuckin' thing over and over and over. Get up, get ready, take a shower, drive to work and spend all day doing something I did the day before. Work hard all day 'cause fuckin' Portland Public Schools always understaffs classrooms. Plus, well, they hate special ed and the particularly hate the medically fragile.

But let's not get into that.

Fuck, at least I have Breaking Bad to look forward to. The show concludes next week, then I need to find some other major diversion. It's been fun, though.

What do you think that will be? This new diversion?

I don't know. It might be fun to think about. 

The possibilities are limitless!

I know! Maybe it'll be some kind of book or podcast or maybe even a TV show. Maybe I'll get into some genre of movies, you know, film noir or something.

Maybe it will be working on your album, farmboy.

Now that would be the smart thing. Just become totally immersed in the making of the album. Fuck, man, that would be so fuckin' great, you know.

We'll just have to see, won't we? Wish me luck, man.

Good luck, farmboy.

Thanks, man. I'll take all the luck this life has to give me.

But you need more than luck, farmboy.

Oh, yeah? Like hard work and inspiration? That's fuckin' taken care of, man. That's what my whole creative life has been about.

start over someday

you can be
what you wanna be
just don't be that
around me
'cause I can see
who you really are
if we're talking 
honesty
that's a term that's not
reality
now, you and me
we're in agree-
ment so far

I have heard 
your lies too much
just like you've heard mine
let's just pretend
we'll keep in touch
and everything is fine

what can we do?
what can we say?
we can't both have 
the right of way
but maybe it
will be okay
and you and me
can start over someday

coffee after midnight

I like to drink 
coffee after midnight
I like to brew it good and strong
there is so much right 
in this opinion
even though everybody else
says it's wrong

keep on trying

I am waiting
just like I always do
for some top notch inspiration
to strike out of the blue
I am waiting
for a single line that's true
what am I to do
but keep on trying

I am working
at a nervous pace
to figure out where I belong
in the human race
running faster
just to stay in place
but just in case
I keep on trying

          and I don't know
          if anything will ever happen
          in this life of mine
          I just hope
          it all works out in time

Good skill

Hey, I'm off to perform at the coffeehouse tonight!

Good for you! I haven't heard of you playing there for quite a while, farmboy.

Yeah, I don't play out nearly as much as I'd like. And lately, with the fuckin' job and my recent state of poverty, there just hasn't been hardly any good stuff happening. But playing music, you know, and getting to play my own stuff, that's just fuckin' great.

Anyway, I gotta get in my truck and go out there and make some kind of magic happen, hopefully. I'm woefully underprepared, but I'm hoping that's a good thing tonight. I'm usually hyper obsessive/compulsive -- and I mean the real stuff, not like people use the term in those fuckin' sitcoms on TV. I need to loosen up.

Anyway, I gots to go. Wish me luck.

I wish you luck, farmboy. And good skill, too.

"Good skill." I like that.

Also, farmboy? Have a good time.

I'm going to, man. I need a good time. Other people probably do, too.

Here I go

Man, I am so fuckin' frustrated. No matter what I do, it's never enough. I mean, I'm tired. I fuckin' work all day at a job I fuckin' hate. I worry about money constantly. I have no fuckin' confidence and everything has always been an uphill battle. I just want to go to bed and listen to some podcast till I fall asleep.

So why don't you? You can do that, farmboy.

Really?

You tell me. It's your life, you have choices. What's going to happen if you go to bed and listen to a podcast?

Well...nothing, really. I'm not at work or anything...

So this is your time.

Okay. What if I feel guilty?

It doesn't matter, farmboy. This is your time, remember? 

Well, in that case...

Get some rest, farmboy.

Thanks, man. I will. Here I go.

Good for you.

Have a good night, man. I'm going to.

Its own sweet fuckin' time

Hey, farmboy! Anything new?

Not really. It's the same old stuff. No money, everybody wants money. Work just fuckin' sucks, like it always does, but with new complications that I really don't want to talk about because it's fuckin' work, you know? Portland Public Schools continues to find new ways to fuck us over.The more I think about it, the worse I feel, so let's move on.

I wish I had more to tell you, different news or something, but bad luck sticks around like a...well, I don't know, but that's what it does. It takes its own sweet fuckin' time saying goodbye, you know?

That's the way it is for most of us, for some reason.

I know, man. It's like a constant broken record of "just be glad it's not worse." And, believe me, I am. I just wish it would let up for just a little while. But I'm not holding my breath

But, you know, it could be worse. And I really am grateful that it's not worse. I'm just getting tired.

more

c'mon, please 
I am so fuckin' tired
my body is aching
my bones are deflated
by your endless demanding:
more
we want more

my own evil twin

if this was my real life
you know where I'd be
on the front porch of my farmhouse
in my land close by the sea
with my guitar and dogs and children
and a woman I call dear
instead I look around and moan
what the hell am I doing here?

          looks like I'm on a losing streak
          looks like I never can win
          I'm so sad I can hardly speak
          I am my own evil twin

tell me some lies

I need someone to tell me
it's gonna be okay
while I smoke my tobacco
and drink my short life away
I need someone who knows me
to show me
what I'm all about
in this maze called a world
with a whole lot of
with and withouts
I need someone to take 
the universe
and cut it down to size
tell me some lies
tell me some lies

I need someone to tell me
it's all gonna be fine
as we search for a future
beyond the horizon line
I need a reason
to get up each morning
in a world that worships greed
where the truth is neglected
and dishonesty is received
I need to figure out
all my alibis
tell me some lies
tell me some lies

look over at your neighbor
try to remember his name
and consider that maybe
the both of you 
are at equal blame
look at your loved ones
look them straight in the eye
and acknowledge that 
each passing second
means even less time
I gotta work in the morning, man,
I want to fall asleep tonight
tell me some lies
tell me some lies
tell me some lies
tell me some lies

DFW: This is Water

Man,l what a fucked week this has been. But I've been given some weed and I got the check from my brother so there's finally food in the fridge and life is kinda sorta okay as long as I don't think about the fuckin' job. 'Cause it's such a fuckin' shit hole, man, and I don't even want to devote a tenth of a fuckin' second thinking about...

Hey, farmboy. Don't think about it. Learn to have some control about what you're thinking.

Fuck, man, you mean like all that fuckin' positive thinking shit?

No, farmboy. I'm thinking more like David Foster Wallace with This is Water.

Yeah? I love that...what is it anyway? An essay? I mean, I know it was a commencement speech but...

Let's go to the computer. I'll put it on for you.



Man, that's so great. Thanks. Here, let me bookmark this...

winter wheat

I know all the back roads
leading to your hometown
I know the silos still standing
in its home on holy ground
I've seen the winter wheat
bow unto the sun
and the moon shining fat
when the harvest has begun

waiting for inspiration

waiting for inspiration
doesn't become me
I feel like a rank amateur
I've gathered all this data
put everything in my 
emotional blender
and what does it get me?
I'm not sure
but I know
it won't be the last time

I hate that I have such hate

So is it getting any better, farmboy?

I got a check for my brother and he added some extra money and I'm very, very grateful. I've told him that when I ask for financial help it means that I need money for food and gas. He can never know how grateful I am. I feel very blessed to have the family I have.

Work, on the other hand, is awful. I have learned to never trust Portland Public Schools. It's got great teachers and support staff, but the administrators...they're just fuckin' pathetic, man.  What I've learned is to suspect anything they may say or do. School districts, in my experience, are the same everywhere, but PPS is easily the worst. I've got to figure a way to get out.

It's also been hot.

Yeah, but there ain't much that I can do about it, you know?

What's also been bad today is that I'm beginning to feel weird from not taking some of my medications.

It's a money problem?

You know, Providence Health and Services -- my fuckin' insurance company -- has raised their rates and their copayments so high that I can't afford to buy my meds. They are so fuckin' evil, man. On their website they use Jesus and use words like "compassion," buy...,you know,I can't go on. It gets me all riled up. 

These fuckin' people, they just want to fuck everybody in the ass. I hope Obamacare comes in and shreds these motherfuckers, man. And I hate that I have such hate in my heart. But what do you do? Let them fuck you over? I have to figure out some way to take these feelings and turn them into something positive.

If anybody can do it, I know you can, farmboy.

Right now I just want to eat some ice cream and see if I can possibly fall asleep and make up a little of the sleep I missed last night. I want to not think about my fuckin' troubles. I want to be able to sleep. That's what I want, man. I want to sleep.

calming down

I am calming down
close to standing
on solid ground
maybe things will be okay
if I don't move from this place
I've locked my doors
windows closed
I'm all right
I suppose
as long as the outside world
never sees my face

A little beat up, but...

Can we talk, farmboy? Is this a good time?

It's as good as any, man. I need to say I'm sorry...

You don't need to apologize for anything, farmboy. Are you okay?

I'm okay. A little beat up, but...

You're okay. Good. I was worried.

Are you up for talking?

Not a whole lot, man. I hope that's all right.

Of course it is. But you're telling me the truth, right? You're doing okay?

Yeah, pretty much. A little shaky, but I'm doing all right. My sister-in-law gave me a little marijuana, enough for a couple nights. And that helps. I wish it were fuckin' legal.

I'll talk to you later in the week, man. I hope you're doing well. Thanks for your concern, really. Talk with you soon, eh?

Nobody can hear me

(farmboy is crying, big sobs, and is having problems catching his breath)

So what has happened is that I had to make this humiliating phone call to my brother in California where I asked to borrow $200 for food and gas for the month. But he's forgotten and I don't know what to do. My job is fucked and just getting worse and I don't have any way to contact anyone since my phone is lost and I can't find it anywhere. 

Everything is bad. 

I don't know what to do and so I do what I do, which is hurt myself. I start hitting myself, banging my fist against my head. There's no fuckin' relief. The only relief I have is to hurt myself and to think about suicide, because that relieves the pressure.

So this time, for the first time, I hit myself so hard that I drew blood.

farmboy...

Don't talk to me, man, 'cause I can't handle it. I'm gonna start crying if you do.

You're already crying, farmboy.

Please don't call me by my name. Please don't talk to me. I'm sorry.

What are you sorry for?

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm stupid and I'm sorry. I am so fuckin' stupid to think I even had a chance. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...

farmboy!

I should have been drowned when I was a child. Like a fuckin' deformed puppy.

Listen, farmboy...

This always fuckin' happens. I never learn anything. I'm so fuckin' stupid. 

You know, my father used to compare me with this...mentally retarded guy in my hometown. I remember he did it right before I had to go perform. And he was fuckin' right, you know.

farmboy, I'm happy to talk to you. But you need a professional. Is there anybody you can talk to? There's a nationwide suicide hotline...

I don't have a fuckin' phone.

My life is just a series of...I don't know, ironies. I don't know if that's the term. I'm so fuckin' stupid.

I can't afford prescriptions because my health insurance is so high that I can't pay the copayments. I can't call anybody. I can't afford counseling. I pray and pray and pray and pray and it doesn't fuckin' work. I'm so fuckin' alone here. I don't know what I can do. Nobody can hear me.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Stop, farmboy.

Okay, you should leave me, too. I don't mean that in a mean way. I mean you...I don't know what I fuckin' mean. All I know is that I don't know what follows this. Do I go back to hurting myself? There's no fuckin' escape, man. There ain't nobody that's gonna come to my door and give me a hug and a check to make these problems go away. I keep saying "Help me," and nothing happens.

I can't do this any more. I just don't know what to do. And this always happens, and it happens more and more and more and more and it keeps happening. 

What keeps happening, farmboy?

Nobody can hear me. I'm, like, in a complete vacuum here. It's solitary confinement. And I must deserve it. I'm being punished.

For what?

For being stupid, man. For being retarded.

Please stop, farmboy. You're overreacting...

Yeah? Well, fuck you, asshole!

farmboy...

You're just like everybody else. Look at my life, man. I'm all alone here. I can't even have a fuckin' dog, for chrissakes. Look at me. What a fuckin' waste of skin I am. I don't know what comes next, except that it will fuckin' include doing harm to myself in one way or another. 

I'll probably just spend the rest of the day thinking about suicide, 'cause that's what I do, 'cause I'm too much of a fuckin' coward to kill myself. Which I should have done when I was a child. Fuck, I was a stupid and ugly child. I couldn't even ride a fuckin' bike. Did I ever tell you that? I was just fuckin' born wrong.

But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters. There is no relief. And no matter what I do, nobody can ever hear me.

I'm sorry, man. You shouldn't have to hear any of this.

Well, farmboy...

Please leave. Please let me have some fuckin' dignity.

Call me if you...

Please leave here. Just leave, okay? I can't handle your kindness right now. I know you mean well, but I can't do it. I can't do it. I'm sorry. 

Listen, farmboy, I think...

JUST GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, OKAY? I always have to be alone anyway. Just get out. Get the fuck out of my life. K can't handle it, okay? 'm being as nice as I can possibly be. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Call me...

Leave me alone, man.  I obviously don't deserve any compassion. The pressure is building up and I don't fuckin' want anyone to see me like this. I'm fuckin' sorry, okay? Leave me alone so I can do what I do.

Which is hurt yourself...

Get away from me! For your own good. I ain't kidding, man. Get the fuck away from me. Just get the fuck away, man. 

It's destroying me a little more every fuckin' day

How are you doing today, farmboy? I hope there's been a change in your life. I know that things have been rough lately.

A little better, thanks. But not much. But I'm thankful and grateful for whatever improvement there is. 

I've lost my cellphone. I've looked every fuckin' place imaginable. So now I get to be even more isolated. 

Fuck, man, I just don't fuckin' know. I get into these periods of...of...bad luck. Or something. I don't know. I've got fuckin' debts, I've got prescriptions that I can't refill, the groceries are running low and everybody wants money that I don't have. 

Work at the school is fuckin' awful. I have all these adversaries, all these...fuckin' enemies now. 

Like what?

You want names? I'll give you names.

Bank of America. What else can I fuckin' say?

Providence Health Insurance. That's a big one. Greedy fuckin' assholes. 

Portland Public Schools. Or the administration of. There are great teachers, great students, people who care. And they're at the mercy of an administration that is just fuckin'  incompetent. Those people shouldn't be working in education. I've worked for other school districts, but this Portland Public is the fuckin' worst. They don't care about the students or their employees. Damn, it's fuckin' amazing that the place even runs. 

Should I go on?

If you want.

I don't want. What I want is to get high and try to pretend that I have some sort of control over my life. 

I want to be a fuckin' professional musician and songwriter. I want to do the work I was born to do without these fuckin' leeches sucking the life blood out of me. 

I want to live in a country where I'm not sentenced to a life of fuckin' fear of getting sick or being unemployed while there are others who bleed the poor and the sick and the old and the disabled to feed their own fuckin' greed. 

You're angry, farmboy.

No shit, Sherlock. It's fuckin' eating me alive. My health is suffering, I'm living on fuckin' Top Ramen while the powers that be exploit the working people for their own financial gain, I'm so fuckin' unhappy and depressed and scared that I don't know which way is up or down.

I don't want to hate. But my anger is fuckin' killing me, man. It's destroying me a little more every fucking day.

I relate to Walter White from Breaking Bad more and more. 

You want to make crystal meth?

No. I'm gonna quote Bruce Springsteen here:

          ...I want the heart
             I want the soul
             I want control
             right now

I want control over my own fuckin' life, man. It's my life, man. No matter what these corporations and administration and banks and governments think. It's my life, and these fuckheads need to understand that.

And they fuckin' never will. 

And they need to be stopped.

I would never do that to her

I'm sorry, man. I'm so depressed and angry and sad that I can't really talk. So many things are so fuckin' bad that I don't know what I'm gonna do. My mind is racing and I don't have any weed to calm me down. I'm sorry. I just need to fuckin' get out of my head. I need some good news. 

I've been thinking about how much I've thought about suicide in the past, well, few years. I've been majorly depressed for, like, twelve years now, at least. I need help and I don't know what I'm gonna do, man. 

Don't worry. I ain't gonna kill myself. I've got a seven-year-old niece and I am not going to leave her with the memory of me committing suicide. I would never do that to her. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

I'm so sad, man. I hope I can sleep.

I'm so fuckin' sorry.

nothing fuckin' helps

I did what I 
was supposed to do
listened closely
followed the rules
did my time 
paid my taxes
believed your lies
at your public school
I gave you 
everything I had
kept nothing
for myself
what do I do?
where do I go?
nothing fuckin' helps
nothing
fuckin'
helps

Nervous all the time

How's today going, farmboy?

I don't know, man. I just don't fuckin' know. It's all about diversions now: Breaking Bad, food with sugar, even my fuckin' job...

You're back at work now? 

I'm back at fuckin' work. And it is a diversion, at least to a certain extent. I am looking forward to that paycheck at the end of the month. Of course, that's, like, four weeks away.

I'm nervous all the time now otherwise. There's no weed to calm me down. It's all fucked. I gotta find a way to get my prescriptions refilled. That would just be the worst, to go through withdrawals at the same time as all this stress.

But enough about my troubles. How 'bout you, man? How're you doing?

I'm just fine, farmboy. Just a little concerned about you these days.

No need to worry, man. I'll make it through like I always do. 

I have complete confidence that you will make it through. farmboy. But it must be tough having to deal with this...this money situation again.

Oh, it's completely fucked. man. I gotta figure out some way I can make some money with music. I mean, fuck, I just want to make a extra couple of hundred dollars a month. But I don't know, man. Everybody wants you to play for free.

But there's gotta be some way, you know? There's gotta be, man. There's gotta be a way out of this mess I've made of my life. There just has to be.

Crumbles and shivers

I'm so sad, I'm so worried. I've got less than fifty dollars for the whole month -- that's including credit -- and my Visa bill is going unpaid. I don't know what to fuckin' do, man.

I know this doesn't help much, but you'll get through this, farmboy. You always do. Something always comes along.

I know, but not until everything crumbles and shivers, you know?

Take care of yourself, farmboy. Eat as well as you can, keep playing, keep writing, keep singing, keep working...

I will, I hope. Fuck. It's these moments of sheer panic that throw everything off.

So I'm trying to be okay.

Do you have any marijuana?

No. I can't even afford groceries, much less weed. It's a shame, but it's okay. For now. It would sure help for those times of panic when something chemical happens inside of me . It's fuckin' great for anxiety, but it doesn't count as a reason for medical marijuana. Maybe I'll eventually move to Washington or Colorado, I don't know.

Seriously?

I can't afford to cross the street, let alone move to another state. I wish I were Canadian, man. Health care, weed, Neil Young.

But I'm here. It'll be okay in a month, kinda. I'll still have the Visa bill, plus a fuckin' penalty. All I need is like $500 and I'll be set. 

I wish I had it, farmboy.

I know, man. Thanks.

I wish I had it, too.

Top 10 places I want to go to

Ireland

Paris

Senegal

Brazil

Alaska

Peru

Italy

Portugal

Mexico City