I’ve been miserable for weeks, but of course, I hide it well. I’m a pro when it comes to this shit.

I’ve been cold. Very cold. It’s 25 degrees right now as I write this. Ice and snow on the ground. Dead and quiet. It was like this yesterday morning, and Wednesday night. Saw Angel Olsen the other night (Wed) in Philly, which was great. But beyond that, I’m still miserable, cold, lonely. When winter comes, I am a wreck. I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder (S.A.D.) which is legit, and happens when winter comes. I hate it. I know I’ll get through it, but I fucking hate it.

Lately, this has been getting to me way more than it should: I am so fucking tired of facebook and seeing all the musician friends of mine just get all this love/compliments/post likes, etc. New albums. Mini-tours. Bigger tours. Playing Sofar Sounds, in random locations. Constant progress with all of these bands all the time. And zero progress for me. I often wonder why I still live in this cold hell, and why I don’t just hang it up completely, musically.

I remember having a convo with Megan in 2008.. we were talking on the phone and I told her I had been teaching music for a few years but still had all this cool, creative plans (musically, etc). She said “well, maybe you’re like… just meant to be a teacher, which is ok… you know?”

I got angry, but kept my cool telling her… “no, that is not what I am ‘just meant’ to be.” I still feel like I’m more than that, and I always will. I don’t just teach. I write, perform and record music. I make hip-hop beats and actively help rappers with producing their albums. I collaborate with people, musically, and have been told I always come up with amazing, perfect parts that they couldn’t have thought of. I film/edit videos. I do spoken word shit. I journal and I have a shit-ton of poetry that has either been self-published DIY-style, or legit, as a paperback. I blog and I vlog. I’m not “just a teacher.” I’m way fucking more than that.

Or am I?

Am I just doomed to be forgotten? Hell, I’ve been at this forever, and it seems I’m further from reaching the end of my goals than ever before. It truly does seem like this. A legit record label put out an ambient record I did most of the work on, two months ago. I signed a licensing deal with a company earlier this year. But I guess I am further from my goals than I have ever been.

Someone I know often says “life is one assache after another.”

The highlights of the past few months and weeks:

  • I got my 2018 health and dental plans
  • I kept the kitchen clean
  • I scoured the shower stall in the second-floor bathroom in my house, and had my friend redo the caulk and seal of it… an ongoing process which honestly should keep the shower in better shape, going forward.
  • I finished a majority of the beats/production for my friend’s lifelong dream of finishing a hip-hop record he started as a teen
  • I put this website together, as a centralized location for all the shit I do, to keep some kind of structure happening, for my “brand”, I suppose
  • I played some cool shows with Patrick
  • I played basically the one and only show with Cait (May 2017)
  • I played my first-ever show, playing original solo stuff (Oct 2017)
  • I vacuumed the house, dusted, and organized cabinets

What seems odd with the list above? The mundane shit added to the fun shit? Yeah. That’s certainly out of place. But think of it in a different way…. what if it’s the music stuff that’s out of place? What if the mundane shit is what the list should be? What if the music accomplishments are out of place?

Penny for your thoughts, Chris. Indeed.

Speaking of pennies… I have about $2000 in bills going through by the end of the month. I have to return a $650 security deposit to a roommate who is moving out. I have to catch up with my cable/internet and electric bills (totaling $1000 right now)… my share of rent will be $700 on 1/1… shit… that’s over $2000 and more like $2300… great. Well, I have some studio equipment listed online right now, totaling over $3,000. Will it sell? Well, it has to. If it doesn’t. I’m more fucked than I could have possibly imagined.

“Life is one assache after another.”

I am still sitting on my solo music… not into releasing any of it, anymore. Why bother? Really. I don’t know why I bother.

I should move to a warmer climate. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m checked out, emotionally and mentally.

I keep going. But I don’t know why, sometimes.


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