Posts Tagged ‘frustration’

The Truth About Kanye

February 9th, 2015

Kanye West Grammys

Kanye is in love. It’s obvious. You wouldn’t suspect it but everything he does is a cry for help, a cry for acknowledgement that his feelings are being understood. I get it, ‘Ye. You’re in love. She’s the most beautiful woman in the universe. She could crush entire ecosystems with a flick of the hand through those luscious locks. She moves with purpose and makes you feel like a little Timmy wearing pocket protectors like it’s junior high math club all over again.


I don’t blame you. Who wouldn’t be intimidated by She Who Is Beyonce?


Beyonce performs on her Mrs Carter world tour in Amsterdam


Oh, Kanye. You poor sap. You’re a famous rap star, songwriter and producer. You are a complex person. You contain multitudes but one look from Beyonce strips all that away. One look from her deep, thoughtful eyes into yours and all senses of self, self-image and self-consciousness go away. That is why you run on stage when other people win awards that Beyonce is nominated for. You did it in 2009 to Taylor Swift. You did it last night to Beck.


This is not about art, music, music video, or awards for such. This is about love. This is about your love for her crying out but not wanting to say it explicitly. You betray your feelings, Kanye. I get it. It’s called “unrequited love”. You are infatuated, obsessed. You want to tell her. You want to tell the world: “I AM IN LOVE WITH BEYONCE KNOWLES. I WORSHIP HER LIKE A MINION FOLLOWS AN IDOL.”


Sometimes when no one is around, you write “Beyonce West” in your notebook. Then you cross it out and write “Kanye Knowles”. Your heart fills up with joy at the very thought of being Kanye Knowles.




Who do we not seeing protesting Beyonce’s awards losses? Jay-Z. Beyonce’s husband. Because Jay-Z has Beyonce. He has the aloof confidence of a man who has the world by a string. The money, the success, the fame, the most beautiful woman in the world. You are indebted to Jay-Z, Kanye, yet you hate him and resent his happiness. Jay-Z gave you a break in show business but took away the thing you wanted most. . . her.


Put in literary terms, Beyonce is the white whale and poor Kanye is Ishmael. But Kanye will never get to harpoon her. So what does a lovestruck fisherman do when he can’t get the big catch? He looks for another white whale.




And what a whale Kanye caught. Who envies the fishermen who make these great catches? Other fishermen. It is better to be envied than it is to envy. Kanye knows this and that is why he married Kim Kardashian and sang those bizarre “Bound 2” lyrics to her face while riding a motorcycle in the video. Distract yourself with, make a baby, get weird with the most famous ass in the world.



And yet it’s not enough. As soon as you’re in the room with “her” again, everything changes. You feel your molecules going crazy inside you. Beyonce is the alpha, the omega and all in between. The world is not enough, in the words of a James Bond film.


Show business is like high school but with money.



Things You Can Do Instead Of Shooting People

May 28th, 2014

Long Title: Things You Can Do Instead Of Shooting People Because They Won’t Have Sex With You Or Whatever Totally Valid, Reasonable Excuse You Have (Sure). . . a partial list.


1. Go to Japan.

2. Make and eat a sandwich.

3. Adopt a cat.

4. Abandon the cat you just adopted (j/k)

5. Take pictures of your adopted cat in funny costumes.

6. Run the can opener for a while.

7. Consider the feelings of others.

8. LARPing.

9. Talk about going to Burning Man, but not actually go to Burning Man.

10. Wait for the next census form.

11. Massage your temples.

12. Make up mean nicknames for people you don’t like.

13. Make racist comments online then be surprised when they are traced back to you.

14. Stop to smell some roses.

15. Start a podcast.

16. Close your podcast because of backlash due to your racist commentary.

17. Explain your personal philosophy via Youtube comments.

18. Type in all caps. LIKE THIS.

19. Develop a blood clot.

20. Wear an oversized cowboy hat and call yourself “Tex”.

21. Try to develop compassion and empathy.

22. Attempt to take the long view.

23. Wonder about how other people are affected by you and your decisions.

24. Remember that you are not the center of the Universe, but you can tear a hole in it with destruction.

Song of the day: “Just A Friend”

July 22nd, 2012


Sing this shit if it ever happened to you. YOOOOOO – GOT WHAT I NEED – BUT YOU SAY HE’S JUST A FRIEND.


Oh baby, you aint dead to me. But you couldn’t be honest so now you have to relegated to that zone of untrustworthy behavior. You exhibited it again and again and while I hoped we’d be more than friends, it’s obvious that we have to work hard at just being friends in the first place. Lesson learned, baby.


Girls go groupie for the wrong musicians. Remember that.

A Milky Shoot Of Creative Juice

May 28th, 2012

You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve been gone this weekend because I was busy. Saturday and Sunday were heavy days and I probably slept about 5 hours total during a 48-hour span. I don’t mind it so much because I sleep too much anyway. Might as well go the opposite way, right?


Saturday was a roller derby bout and Sunday was band practice, both in Bowling Green. I helped call the second half of a double-header which involved my old team from Evansville. The local Bowling Green team defeated the Evansville team but that didn’t bother me. It used to, doesn’t bother me so much.


After the bout, I had ample quality time with Jen(n){n]}, the Evansville girl who I’ve had a contentious history with. Things I’ve blogged about before, like the candied bacon incident, the Pixies no-show. Those were a few of the things that came up in our chat at the after-party. I played her the song that I wrote after the bacon incident, or a demo of it. She got a kick out of it, as she oughta. It’s a funny song.


I can’t know what it’s like for the subject of one of my songs to find out that I wrote the song about them and have to sit there and listen to them as its’ played for my amusement. To have this one moment in your life, maybe one that you don’t care to remember all that well, immortalized in song. That has to be one of the hardest deals. ever. To know that someone had turned a moment in your life into a song. To know it meant that much to them. To learn that they wrote that song because they were trying to exorcise a demon inside of them. A demon that got there because of you.


There’s a lot to write about the Memorial Day weekend that was. I suggest you celebrate your M-Day the best you can, by drinking some beer, grilling out and thinking about the soldiers who made this country great. Give them about four seconds of your time. By writing this sentence, I have already thought more about the soldiers than I wanted to.

I See What I Want To See

February 18th, 2012

If you read the previous post, I talked about getting my hopes raised by a girl. The convo went something like this…


Her: What are you doing Saturday?

Me: Oh, nothing. Band practice during the day and nothing after that. Why, what’s going on?


That happened on Tuesday or Wednesday, I can’t remember. Today, I discussed this with one of my wisest friends and he put it like this: had she continued the conversation and been completely truthful, it might have went like this…


Her: Well, I was looking for something fun to do, and I was hoping you had something I could jump in on. But since you don’t, I’ll find someone or something else to occupy my mind.


I didn’t read her initial request as trolling for some fun. I thought we could create our own. We are young, creative people (or she is young and I am creative). In any event, I sent her a text today asking her if she wanted to hit her up when I got done with practice. She replied that she already had made plans to leave town. She was going to a thing.


Well, that’s a fine how do you do. I saw what I wanted to see. I thought she wanted me to keep my Saturday night clear. Maybe she wanted me to bring the fun instead. Like I keep all the clowns and an open bar in the trunk of my car and a karaoke system in the backseats or something. Boo-hoo.


I always end up blaming myself for this sort of thing.

After tonight, I’ll let this go.

November 10th, 2011

For this moment, I’m going to stew in the juices of bitterness and angst. This is not a love story.


To set the story, I had two passes to the Pixies. I had asked this girl over a month prior if she wanted to go. And she replied FUCK YEAH! because why wouldn’t she? A pass to the Pixies and all she has to do is get there. I was so confident for about three weeks that this was a DATE.


I was going to show both sides of the story, her texts and mine. But I think my texts tell the story well enough. If I posted her texts it would be almost funny but that’s not what I’m going for.




Can you get off next Wed for Pixies?


Forget it then.


Did you ask off?


When do you think you’ll find out? No offense but I have an extra ticket and I’d like to use it.




Did you get your schedule?


OK. Let me know when you find out. It’ll work out.




Hey, hey. Did you find out anything about Wednesday night?




Let me know. I hope you can. I never asked anyone else.


I didn’t know if you wanted to go separate or not.


9pm Louisville, 8pm (your time)


I’d be cool with meeting you in (your town) but I’d hate to drive us to Louisville. I hit a deer last week.


WEDNESDAY (show time):


(15 minutes before doors open) Are you on your way?


Really? You couldn’t call it in.