Back to music again

Man, I tell you, what a fuckin' day.

Your job?

Yeah. And, you know, it's reached the point where it's complicated with meetings and my doctor -- I had to see him today to get a note for work and, shit, I started crying in his office. Man, this is taking a toll like you wouldn't believe.

I can tell. This is all so unfair, farmboy.

Oh, man...

I'm so pissed at the amount of time and energy that I've spent and wasted on this fuckin' shit, you know? I feel like let's get back to music again. I'm still gonna do the Kickstarter thing, but I want to give it as much attention as it deserves. And I can't really do that right now. Maybe this weekend.

It would be a good diversion.

True, but the Kickstarter project is more than a diversion. Which is fine. This weekend might be good. We'll see.

I have been playing and I have even been working on one of the songs I wrote in California.

Which one?

"A Peaceful Life."

Good. I like that lyric, farmboy.

Thanks. I think it may work. I worked on that lyric a lot when I was in California, so I don't think it'll be a super-hard rewrite. We'll see, though. Right now I'm mainly working on the music.

I'm glad to hear that.

I'm glad to say it. It helps me to feel like at least that priority still exists. It's the most important one.

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.

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.

farmboy...

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...

farmboy...

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.

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?

Yeah.

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.

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.

farmboy...

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.

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 and...you 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?

Um...no. 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.

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.