Knee Deep In a Cement Ocean

We're all dieing. Some of us just want to choose the way we go out.

I should be studying and yet I'm here again, blabbing about my life. As if anyone really wants to know. It seems like people look at my blog seeing as though the numbers have seemingly jumped up recently. That means someone has got to care. Someone is reading this wondering what the hell my problem is. Well This is what I pose to you. I don't care, it's not going to be creepy to know you look at this. If I didn't want people to see it, I wouldn't have put it up. I'd have it written in a journal and placed in a safety deposit box. Even then, I wouldn't feel safe. But this is what I pose to those who read my blog: What do you want to know? What do you want to ask? Anything you want to debate? It can be anything, as personal as you want, I'll try my best to answer it here. Just send it to me on this thing or on my myspace (www.myspace.com/stratfordxxx). I won't use any names for the sake of privacy. If no one sends anything, I'll know no one cares and just continue on my merry way. Writing for the sake of writing. Venting for the sake of sanity. God knew I needed a way out, here it is. Enjoy life. Don't let it be stolen from you.

It makes me happy just to know that you're thinking about me.

In the Hands of An Angry God

The Road not Taken
Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Life is monotonous. Life is static. I haven't written anything creative lately and that has slightly depressed me. So this is where I am. Back at the beginning. I don't think I'm a great writer but I like expressing myself and it seems that its the same things over and over again. The same poor cliche's written over and over again. Anyway, I've always been struck by the poem above. I try to live my life by it's messages from the heart of Poet Robert Frost. This is where I began. This is where I start again.

Deep down the shipwreck mess,
at the edge of the waves in your sheets,
crawl slowly down to red rock pier,
hide low in the spring marsh reeds,
hear the hum hum hum of distant shores,
wash gently against your feet,
Watch the mounting swell build
across a blue green sea.
And we wait and watch the inlets mouth,
for signs of sailors dead and drowned,
and hope love will find us here.

In case you're wondering where the idea of the poem came from, it was from this house which had a chair on top of it. No more then five minutes from my house is a house where a chair sits on the very top. Although no one really knows why the chair is up there many people have their theories. Some say that a woman used to sit at the top of this house and watched for her husband to come home from the Navy. She one day died at the top. They say the house is haunted with the ghost of the woman and the only way to calm her wandering soul is to leave a chair on top of the house so she can sit and watch the inlet. Love lost at sea.

When I play music...

I never really knew why but before we'd play I channeled into the energy of the music. Especially now because things are more honest and emotionally driven. From the first note to the end, I get the urge to lose myself in what's going on. Sometimes it causes me make some poor decisions but it's where the music takes me. It takes me to the edge of who I am and makes me face a lot of difficult things in my life. Everything I've written about has been very personal, whether you can read into it and get that feeling or not. For example: (A line from the new song "Titan")

"I live a life of misconception and misery." People believe that just because I have a smile on my face that everything is alright, that every time they talk to me they're going to get this person who is full of joy. I'm not. For a long time and probably for a while to come, my life has absolutely sucked. I fucked around and screwed up my school situation. I've made sacrifices for this band that have severely harmed relationships I've had in the past. My family life was up and down for a while. My Mom and Dad had cancer scares. I broke my cheek bone and eye-socket that still doesn't have all the feeling back in it but I'm too afraid to tell anyone because I'm afraid to face the truth that it may never come back. Things recently kind of got shitty but brightened back up. Don't expect me to be as fresh as a daisy every time you see me. I'm a person who has ups and downs just like everyone else.

Another example (from The Alchemist):

"I hope you can understand, why I'm leaving you, in the absence of death, I am the end." I wrote this in a daze one night, half out of it because my brain was fried from the extensive studying that I do on a daily basis. I woke up the next morning and read it again. It just made sense. The song itself has to do with how I turn everything gold in my life to sand. I try not to, I put every ounce of myself into a my life, maybe that's my problem, regardless it happens. Sometimes I want to pack up my things and leave, just start walking across the Desert that is the United States in hopes of finding new land that has never seen civilization and set up camp. Getting back to the line itself, "I hope you can understand why I'm leaving you," is me giving up and telling my family that I'm sorry but I have brought no happiness to the earth. I am no ray of sunshine that you thought I should live up to. I am leaving them in search of the metaphysical. "In the absence of death, I am the end." This is me explaining that if I stick around I may find solace in the static life I live. It is either death or ruin all things from there.

I've tried my best to show pieces of me that don't normally get exposed. Sometimes you'll find me punching myself in the head, slamming my fists against the floor, trying to put a microphone through my forehead, trying to stomp holes in the floor, closing my eyes and losing myself, reaching up and making awkward had gestures, or kneeling on the ground hoping to find purpose. You may hear me say some pretty awkward things like, "I am a garage flower, The sun never shines on me," or "DJ Jazzy John play that beat back." This is all my release from reality. My search for substance outside of the physical constraints of politically correct America. I give everything and leave nothing. I give myself to a groove that has no rhyme or reason. A long time ago I realized and became accustomed to realization that I may one day die and never come back, I may never see the people I love, I may just be dead, worm food, there may not be a happy ending waiting for me, dead may just be dead. I'm not sure and I'm not about to get into a discussion regarding religion. I guess my point is, I'm not living my life with the understanding that I may die at any time and that scares me but what brings me solace is that I'll leave behind a grain of sand on the beach that is eternity. Maybe it'll be washed away or maybe not, but at least I'll have tried.

Every Mistake I Made, I Couldn't Have Made Without You

I am planted with deep roots spreading through the topsoil and grass,
Cursing progression for defining my method of design,
So those celibate sons can pull at my hair to loosen the new voodoo,
did it?
Some say that these are times of market booms and declining moral values,
others attribute the faithless to rapid proliferation of certain doom,
I have found that pastors find salvation in the ruin's of children's' youth,
was it ever?
Is it the bottle or the prescription that eases your wandering mind,
I am such a good parent for giving my children the opportunity that I never had,
Half naked in an apartment popping the tops off batteries cooking my dreams in a bedpan,
have I found it?
Is it normal for a child to hide behind a soldier's heart in search for the strength to be weak,
I've broken down the most anticipated arguments and found empty all promises,
The jingling of my pockets tells a story far greater than monetary value,
I search for change?

THE TIES THAT BIND [you may not agree with the life I lead but I never asked for your permission]

The dudes that hold me together....
The music that moves me....
The life I chose....
Is one of misconception and misery....
But hope is what keeps me here....
The van that keeps me moving forward....
The release that keeps me sane....
How can I truly be miserable....
I can't....never have been....never will be....
As we put road behind us.....
I realize that the only place I feel at home....
Is in a van.....
On the road....
That's the life I lead....
With a group of amazing people to surround me with hope.

Never Again....It's All Joel's Fault.

I got home on Thursday at around 8:30 and basically sat around and then shot up to Hayden and Sonya's for a little hang out time with them and Erin and Dylan. It was fun, we sat around and shot the shit, played a little guitar hero, ate brownies that Sonya had made and then I headed home. It was getting late and I knew that Sonya had to be up for work the next day.
The following day, I hung out with my nephew. He's so funny. We played Cowboys and Indians and made each other laugh all day. It was a fun time. For the first time ever, I swear, he said a complete sentence and it was, "Uncle Bob, we get out of here!" I couldn't stop laughing. Later that day I went to a show with Pillars of Violence, which was fun. The highlight of the night was some girl eating shit because someone jumped on her back. This girl was some shade of idiot. She deserved it. hahaha. Anyway, after sitting there until like 11, Pillars finally played, I grooved, Chris broke a microphone, Jimmy Drop kicked Chris from Life's Cold Grip, Keith almost fell off his stool while playing, and Tony and Dalton thrashed. It was fun. After getting home, me and Tony went over to Kyle's and played a little halo. I got home at 4:00 am and went to bed and didn't wake up until 2.
The next morning, I went and hung out with POV for no reason in Toms River/Manchester. We found some sweet pillars though that looked as if they were medieval torture chambers. After a rousing game of catch and tag we headed back to Manahawkin. I chilled around with John a little while before practice and we went and got some food. I had a Chicken Badass from Burger King personally served to me by the King while John ate colon cleaning Taco Bell. After making a few select stops we headed back to practice. After an hour of feeling useless since I have no speakers for my PA, I left and drove over to "Meat and Cheese's" house where I hung out with the guys from POV and some other honorary mentionable including K-Deini himself, Meat and Cheese aka Brandon, and a few others. That's when Graham called and we both decided to head to a party on the Island. With a short stop at the liquor store to buy Graham the official beer of Bill Murray, "Pabt's Blue Ribbon," we headed over and hit up the party scene. It was a pretty good night. Me and Graham were really raging hard. I had so many root beers it was awesome (still edge). A few hours and a fist fight later, the cops showed up. After realizing that there may have been some underagers there, Graham and I decided to take our party elsewhere. Upon leaving we were pulled to the side by several police officers who issued me a sobriety test because I was driving home. I offered to take a breath-a-lizer because I wanted to blow a zero and blow his mind, but he told me it wasn't neccessary. After standing there for about thirty minutes waiting for my ID to come back showing that I had no warrants out for my arrest, we were allowed to leave.



That is not my beer. I am still edge. Don't worry. Graham on the other hand is drinking the official beer of Bill Murray.

Sunday was lulled along while I started packing my things, like I do every weekend, to head back to the drawing board at Rowan. I feel like I come back with a clean slate. No matter how terrible last week was, this week is going to be better. It's that way every time I come back. I headed over to kyle's house because we had plans to do some things before we headed back. First we watched his Giant's superbowl DVD. Then we tossed around the Frisbee and decided that we would head over to Stafford Forge and walk the trails with Cooper, the dog. I wanted to see if Missy's dog Leo would want to come but Kyle advised against it. He was afraid Cooper would fuck around with him and get eaten although I assured him that Leo was the greatest/nicest dog ever. We had an awesome walk down a few miles of trails. I had never been there and didn't realize how much shit was around there. I'll have to take a special girl there sometime. Maybe sometime. In the future.

Until next time - enjoy the breathes we share together because they are surely running out with each day.

I want to be your Sun.