Sorry in advance for the negative post.

Okay, I’ve got a few things to touch on. First I want to rant about television. I watched Sons Of Anarchy last night on FX. Great show. Honestly, I think FX might be the best channel on cable television today. Sons Of Anarchy, It’s Always Sunny and Nip Tuck are all really amazing, boundary pushing shows but I have never seen so many commercial breaks in my life. Four minutes of commercials, seven minutes of program, repeat for an hour and a half. Maybe that’s how it’s always been, but for some reason it doesn’t feel that way. I feel like I’m watching more commercials than actual TV show. I’m all for advertising and shows getting paid what they deserve but it’s no wonder why people download shows illegally or stream them. It’s frustrating to watch a show and get pulled out every seven minutes. With HULU beginning to charge whenever they decide the right time is, I have lost all faith in cable. Now another channel that can eat it… BRAVO. I love watching Top Chef but I hate every other BRAVO show. And while I’m watching Top Chef I would prefer that a quarter of my television screen not get taken up by BRAVO advertisements for their other shows like “Real Housewives”. I know it’s their channel and all but I’m over watching it on their stupid channel. I’ll just stream the S.O.B. I just want to watch a television show by itself, nothing else on the screen, normal commercial breaks, no pop ups, nothing. Good television is hard to come by and when it does come it gets ruined by the channel. Thanks FX and BRAVO and probably a thousand other channels that I don’t watch.

Okay, now that I’m done venting about television, let’s move on. I am no longer taking any illustration classes which leaves me with no illustration projects. It’s hard for me to sit down and paint because I’m so used to having an assignment/direction. I don’t consider myself an “artist” because I’ve never really painted to express myself (at least I don’t think I have). Anyway, I find myself getting caught up in other illustrators/artists just admiring their work, trying to see how they create images, techniques, etc. and I never end up painting anything. It leads me to a thought. Do all artists/illustrators have poor self esteem? Are illustrators/artists self sabotaging? Or is it just me? Am I the one that gets in slumps and can’t dig myself out? There’s being hard on yourself and then there’s the option of failing at something you WANT to do. Sometimes I can’t tell if I’m just hard on myself or don’t think I have what it takes to cut it. Friends, family, and peers can tell me I have what it takes but sometimes I don’t feel like I have it. I think I’ve been told this all my life. I do things to hinder my progress. Never intentionally but it seems like it always happens. I’ve had chats with teachers who have told me about their slumps in their careers and anyone who is an artist/illustrator/designer might know what I’m talking about.

This semester is killing my brain. I’m having a hard time getting back to people, keeping touch with people, forgetting work, losing myself in dreams. My plate is overflowing and I’m trying my best to not let it stain the carpet but things are getting damaged in the process. I haven’t been writing lately. That’s kind of a lie. I wrote a little but definitely am not consistent with writing. I used to keep a journal and update it nightly. Now I’m lucky to sit down and write anything once a week. I’m floating. Is this how the rest of my life is going to be?

Blue Man

Rain Shadow
I’m dry. Nothing pours from these fingers anymore. An empty head to go with blunt teeth and dull eyes. I’ve got nothing to offer. More numb than I was yesterday. Nothing is the same. The wire in my mouth, devoured. The heart in my chest, gone. The stitches in my hand, pulled. I don’t see the sky in the same light. I barely see the sky at all. Nothing worth spitting for. Nothing worth swinging at. I don’t belong here. Detached from a world I once loved. Heaven and Hell. I’m burning. I can smell the skin. There’s a collision. The objects meet. I’m laughing but no one’s smiling. Tracing my fingers over the wound. Face after face after face. We’re all part of the same scar. What have I got to show? A ruined throat and a thousand mistakes? I’m so sorry. Do you feel connected to me yet? Do you know who I am? How can you feel connected if I don’t?

Anyone know a drummer so I can use these lyrics?