Ritual

Ah, the sweet sounds of Opus Eponymous, the debut album by Ghost. I know a lot of people don't like them, but they can put a sock on it. I think a lot more people would enjoy it if they could get over the ridiculously satanic lyrics, but to each his own. The album has a very 70's, Blue Oyster Cult kind of sound to them, and definitely one of the catchiest albums I've heard in forever. These guys know what they're doing, for sure. It's bands like Ghost that I try to really take something from every time I listen to the album, in hopes of gaining some secret knowledge on how to make my own band better. Lately, my mind always seems to be on my music, whither it's about shows, or practice, or recording, or what have you. I think I spend more time thinking about music than I spend thinking about women or money, which I assure you, is quite a bit. It's really one of the only things I care about. There's not much I'm emotionally invested in (not to sound emo, or whiney (it's just the truth)), and my band makes the cut of the things that I actually do.

     Been feeling particularly alone lately. Been seemingly unable to be able express myself, or let anything out. I listen to all of this music that makes everything I can still feel ebb away at the walls that contain it, but I won't escape. I hold a pencil to blank paper and wait for something to desperately collapse onto it, like it has no other choice than to do just that. I want to create something besides uncertainty. I want to create something that I can be proud of, or that would shock me in some way. Maybe it's not happening because I've forgotten how to create. How to feel the things I need to in order to put myself on paper. I feel like it's been so long since I've naturally felt that way that I don't remember how to. Is that possible? Maybe there's too much going on in my head to make sense of anything. Like every thought or feeling I've had for a while just gets added to the pile of musings and reactionary emotions. It's possible that it's all building up until it can't be contained anymore, and then I'll have a tidal wave of creativity and other positives. I hope I've got a mountain of something to write/draw on, or it's going to escape all at once then POOF, gone again. Not having anyone to indadequately express things I can't even verbalize to has been tough. You turn around, and no one is there. I need to make more friends. Although I feel like at the end of the day I've forgotten to do that too.
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