militant monk

Times change but we remain the same. We ebb and we flow til we flow no more. Our ideas and our dreams and our passions fade as we are subdued by the steady pulse of the call to submit.

That was beautiful Kevin, and to be blunt I sensed a passion and humanity in you that you rarely reveal. I wish we could be friends, for real. Ego and misunderstanding   warped things, but those are just stages. Sometimes it’s worth a second chance.

koc:

Helen Grace Lapham

speak now, or forever hold your peace.

Standing on a rooftop 20 stories up, at 5 in the morning, surrounded by a cloudy skyline, smoking a cigarette and chasing the lightning and the gliding storm clouds with my eyes, I just know there has to be something more out there for me.

I am putting every fiber in my being into this universe and trusting that something beautiful exists, something greater than myself, something no one will ever understand but it keeps me ALIVE. It keeps me probing and searching my existence for ways to not just sustain but to truly better myself, to keep fighting and rise up no matter how many men or women try to break me.

They can’t and they won’t. I’ve had my heart crushed and my reputation shattered, I’ve made bad business and relationship decisions, I’ve bawled over people that didn’t give two shits and a flying donkey about me, I’ve fucked people over, people have fucked me over, and I refuse to believe that it is all for nothing. No, that’s not why I’m here.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  My life is a blank canvas.  Whether you personally believe that it’s up to me to paint it myself or whether this universe and this fate and this synchronicity will paint it for me matters not.  I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t have a 5 year plan, and that’s OK.

My life is a canvas. Whether I paint it or fate will matters not. All I know is:

My canvas will be painted with the darkest and the brighest of colors.

Life is sweet.

About to receive a Roland TD-12 drum kit and Sennheiser HD-650 headphones.

FUCK.

If you had the choice between going on tour around the country for a month  managing/selling merch for a relatively well known band, while MISSING YOUR LAST WEEK OF FUCKING FINALS,

what would you do?

I’m actually torn.