y'all can't all be wrong: The Really Cool Thing About Depression Is That No One Really Wants To Hear About It

I'm in the middle of the worst unpleasant fit that I've had in years and all I can think is that I'm a goddamn pussy... To (almost) make things worse I had to play a gig tonight -- the inaugural gig on my vbass (think lower-range guitar). Thank god things went well -- I feel like shit as is, but at least the music that was created tonight will give me enough spark to stumble through tomorrow. Music, however, is funny, and the gig could have easily been a flip-flop in the direction you don't want to go. And I think a bad performance would have dumped me in front of the Devil, naked, with nothing to say. As it is, I'm afraid to goto bed 'cause I'm afraid to get up. And I keep thinking, "goddamn pussy, goddamn pussy, goddamn pussy." I'll keep going though. Those damn Phoenix birds taught me a lot a few lives ago. Plus, every time I get drunk with Bernie Taupin he's telling me that if the Phoenix bird can fly, then so can I. I'll keep going too 'cause I can't wait to post some of the audio clips from tonight's show; and, I'll keep going because I am the number one result for a Google search on goddamn pussy (happy face). See, it ain't that bad. But, if you don't give a fuck, yep, then I don't give a fuck (but make mine flying please).

Is Arrival Here? [2003 September 10 @ 12:37 AM]
Is it under some rock that some philosopher might metaphorically turn over and talk about -- or -- actually turn over and then talk about metaphorically?

Man, you just can't escape personal retribution. I mean, depression is a very wide rake, it's an all-knowing god, it's a (Pixies) wave of mutilation, and it's (David Byrne) water at the bottom of the ocean.

Worse, depression is the sore loser -- that is it prefers to win. It prefers furtive introduction. It hangs with hangovers and detests the causal revelry.

So you punch it and punch it, 'cause that's the only way it subsides. You take a few punches; you take everything it's got, but you keep punching back. Patience, punches, and (if you need it) Prozac.

In the end depression rarefies. Tonight I ride on that 'cause tomorrow finds me happier.

Comments

another david byrne ref...i see a pattern developing.
let's hear your new bass soon. glad your gig went well. by the way you write, if it didn't we may have to enter you in a 12 step program or something.

Posted by: mick @ January 29, 2004 07:04 AM

must clarify-
i have heard your new axe, i am looking forward to hearing it in this gig that you are soon to post.
and i didn't mean to make light of your depression. my concern, tho not well spoken, is sincere.
i just reread my post and realized i kinda sounded like an f'n a-hole. i know you know me well enough, but i didn't want your other two readers to think i'm an f'n
a-hole.

Posted by: mick @ January 29, 2004 09:10 AM

Mike,

You have, like, 18 years credibility with me. You could even be a fucking ass and I wouldn't mind, 'cause I know who you are overall. You read, therefore you care, and it goes so much more deeper than that... I'm doing OK -- I'm in a funk, but I'm not necessarily sad. I had a good talk with the guitarist (Five is his name). Like I said in the repost, "In the end depression rarefies." It just sucks that broaching mental health is such a no-no in the West.

Posted by: TQ @ January 29, 2004 09:20 AM

TQ, just Don Lorenzo it. How can anyone be depressed when drinking Banana Rum?
And what do you have to be depressed about you goddamn pussy.

To cheer you up I'll tell you about a dream I had. Basically, it was about going to hell, and it taught me a lot.

So you see, there are two phases to going to hell. The first phase which is "Oh Shit! I'm going to hell." This phase is marked with terror and fear. This is the worst phase of going to hell.

Once you get to hell, all that happens is you just get killed over and over again. At least that's what's happening to me when I go to hell according to my dream. Of course, this really isn't that bad, because you are already dead. So while you might get launched from a catapult into a brick wall, or dismembered by a speeding train (both experiences I had in my dream last night) You just come back to full strength. Sure it hurts for that instant, but hey who cares? It'll be over soon. Then you get killed in some other grotesque way and start to find out, that, really it is actually pretty fun. I mean who hasn't thought about stepping in front of a car and seeing their head going flying off and rolling down the street. Maybe in the future hell can record your deaths and sell you a DVD at the end of your time there.

Oh, moral of the story is that I'm one fucked up dude. Have a day.

Posted by: T-Dog @ January 29, 2004 09:40 AM

T-Dog,

You just turned Don Lorenzo into a verb. Did you get permission first?

Oh, Don Lorenzo, you are a friend of mine. I like to drink you with a little coke and lime... do dah do dah do dah.

Posted by: TQ @ January 29, 2004 10:02 AM

I was going to say something funny, or helpful, or sarcastic but instead I'll just sit back and enjoy the show.

Can I say, "I'm with the band" now? Cuz I'd quite like to be able to say that.

Posted by: picklejuice @ January 29, 2004 10:13 AM

Well, picklejuice, you can be with the band, but it would be cool if I could ship that neclace to you. Your fee would be getting me a picture of it so I can post it on the necklace page.

Posted by: TQ @ January 29, 2004 10:43 AM

trust me, being "with the band" ain't all it's cranked up to be....musicians are a sorry lot, especially because they have say 'sorry' a lot.

whomever said love means never having to say you're sorry(or however that saying goes), was not loved by a musician.

sting said it this way:"when i'm on the road, i can't wait til i get home; and when i'm home, i can't wait to get back out." paraphrased, of course; but sorry just the same. sounds fun tho, eh?

Posted by: mick @ January 29, 2004 12:25 PM