What's it like riding high, when the world gives you everything, a summer day with the windows rolled down, wind in your hair, and radio cranked up? Gleeful ephemeral moments, but you -- you believe in heydays forever. And Johnny Cash said that Trent Reznor said that everyone I know goes away in the end. What's it like when the world takes everything away and turns you into dirt? Then you are solely a memory, a memory that will someday itself be turned into dirt. Right there is our license to give up. And those who know me know that I ride the highest highs and the lowest lows and that I am a cynic beyond bounds, and that I am the world's best pessimist, and that I am uncontrollably impetuous, and that I have a penchant -- maybe even a fetish for sticking feet in my mouth. I build people up as easily as I piss them off and I go to yoga to pacify that kinetic craziness that arcs through my brain. But I know, I know that we are born in pain, live through pain, and die in pain. I am aware of this, but I refuse to give it credence. Therefore, fucking therefore, don't call me a romantic. There are too many people out there who have it so much worse then we do. If the rest of us aren't nice guys, then we are just fucking assholes.

While waiting for life that sucks to die, why not listen to my favorite unsigned bands: TQ's Garage Band Playlist.