polyphony.

fatally flawed.

so, i've been thinking. alot.
and i've come to the conclusion that i have fatal flaw.
my achilles heel, my fulcrum for defeat.

my issue.

i'm devastatingly impatient.
not with other people, so much, but with shit in general.
definitely with self. on every imaginable level, too.

i was sitting in my room, listening to some records, trying to figure out WHY i struggle so much with the music. why i haven't been able to write. why i can't seem to stay with a exercise schedule, why my life in general seems to be taking it's time producing anything fruitful. it didn't hit my like a eureka freight train, because i think i always had some idea of what my problems were... but yeah, i faced facts. i'm an impatient sumbitch if there ever was one.

i don't give myself time with the beats. i started doing this shit a very short time ago. i have hundreds of records in my room, and i've literally listened to about 20 of them all the way through. i pick up a pen, look at a page, and get so frustrated with idea of having to conjure up something to write, and thusly drop the pen and take a nap. i lift weights for a week and half, gain 1 lb, fuck up and miss a few meals, miss a day of weightlifting, lose 2lbs, get pissed and move on to something else. it's like that with everythiong i do. i don't know how i expect to accomplish anything like that.

i mean, i've got drive. i've got desire. it's not just laziness. i just want shit done immediately, no wait time. i dunno whether it has anything to do with the type of world we live in, where basically everything is ready for consumption, food or otherwise, or if it's just me. whatever the case, that's my flaw, and i've got to fix it.

so, now i'm concentrating on living in the moment, as cliche as that sounds. honestly. just, taking each moment as it comes, trying to do something productive with it, as big as an hour, as infintesimal as 30 seconds.

i pushed myself earlier. i sat and listened to every chord change, every raucous drum solo, every lame joke sputtered between he and george duke, from a billy cobham LP titled B.C. friends, this is arguably one of billy cobham's worst outputs ever. allmusic only echoed my unfortunate findings. and i spent $4 on that record.

oops.

but yeah. i listened to it. and i'm going to do that with every album i have, cd, tape, whatever. bad or good, long or short.
because quite frankly, i'm sick of being impatient. i'm sick of missing out on shit because i didn't take the time to really bust my ass at it. i coulda had As through out my entire school career, because, on the reals, dog. i am a smart, capable motherfucker. i've got ADD, so that might color me badd, but fuck. i don't wanna hear that shit. ADD is as ADD does. i can do this shit.

i mean, it's just gotten to the point of being ridiculous. i used to have long, flowing, effortless entries in my blog. somehow they managed to dwindle down to unimagninative titles and and minimal overviews of long expanses of time. that's not what i write for. shit is a chore when you don't take time to enjoy it.

i can't promise immediate success, but i'm taking it slow. i've been in a rush all my life, so i've got lots of facets of it to catch up with.
i just need to prioritize and execute, slow as the need may be, until i feel more relaxed.

*whew*

felt fucking GOOD to get that out.
so yeah, if you catch me on the phone, and i'm talking slow, paced and methodically... i'm not high.
i'm livin in the moment.

yeah.
yo... that BC shit is bad, dukes. like, bad. i wanted to straight choke billy cobham out. 1979 was bad year for every one.

hey!

wanna see my cousin bessie?





i think she's pretty fly in that pic, but sak says she looks like a murderer.
to each his/her own, i guess.

she lives in nyc, so i'ma try to hook up a visit. my mom says that my grandparents didn't hang around that part of the family much back then because they were partiers and "boozers".

my kinda people!

nah, but i'm sayin. she doubts that they still rock out with the cock out anymore.
bess is killin them shoes tho, shits are type fresh.

but yeah.
billy, you owe me one for that shit.