“you’ve shot yourself in the foot”

“Last thing I remember is doing shots for the confederacy,
Then the red head came over and I did not know what to say”

The room around me is empty. There are two guitars, three journals, and a series of clothes that will get me through a week at a time. There is a bed of course, a turntable (unhooked up), and an Apple plug. I’ve found this is all I need, and even then the turn table is pushing it. Everything else I supposedly own is spread out among a duo of two homes and to be honest I miss little else. ( I do have a series of blu rays in the living room including my Kubrick’s, Drive, Citizen Kane, 8 1/2, and other films I don’t mention when people at Cheatau Elian ask me what kind of movies I like. The usual answer is the film I do not have on blu ray that I count among my favorites. Jaws.)

You can get burnt out on the city. This is true. I thought I was, but it wasn’t until later I realized this had more to do with an ex-girlfriend than anything else. The stores and cafes we went to, the neighborhoods we walked through, in the end it was like they were all laughing at me. I had to escape. And what perfect timing, as I was graduating college and looking for some kind of change in my life. When my sister offered her house in Buford while she was away in Insanbul it seemed like the perfect get away. I would go home, record an acoustic folk album in a house full of hardwood and high ceilings, save money, and hopefully fall in love with a simple yet intelligent girl. I was extremely idealistic, and still am. None of this would happen.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve written some of the best songs of my life in the past six months. I fell in love with a girl I saw myself in, and paid the price of an ignorant lonely lover. My mood quickly changed and I began to hate those I surrounded myself with. I took a job i knew i would hate and found nothing except for people with half-hearted dreams concealed behind knives and hopeless mourners. (Don’t get me wrong, my parent’s divorce fucked me up too but Jesus Christ, it was 8 years ago. Get over it.) (And for christ’s sake does Chateau Elian Secretly mean “fuck around on your spouse” or someting? I’m so tired of that story.)

Maybe I was too easy to accept these situations and maybe I made some bad decisions. I’m not denying either. What I do know is that I no longer belong here. Two years ago I wrote a song that had the line “I hate this town and I hate this life..” and I still play it today. The difference is it no longer feels “quite right”. I’m going on vacation in two weeks and I’m planning, praying, and preaching that I leave hall county, Chateau Elian, and all these demons that have come with both. It’s time for a rebirth and a reckoning. I’ve been in the bushes for too long. It’s time to strike.

God have mercy on my soul. It’s 2012, I’m a college graduate, an artist, a family man, and a dreamer. I’ll see you soon.

st

[You, the blonde with the black boots and jeans. yeah.]

(also, how hard is it to get a teaching degree?)

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