decompression #1

I remember staring at the ceiling in your apartment, laying on your hardwood floor – alone – listening to Chaos and Creation in the Backyard, loudly. So loud, I could feel the vibration of the music through the floor. And you had told me earlier that week that you liked to play music loud, that it was the only way to listen to it. And so I listened.

You had invited me out, but I declined. You wanted to introduce me to your friends, but in the moment of the invitation, I suddenly felt emotionally strange and perhaps grief-stricken. And maybe I also just felt awkward. And didn’t want to meet your friends, preferring to be alone. I tend to find myself in corners, having a habit of blurring the lines of my life, becoming this indefinable individual; bearing a title that’s not quite accurate, not quite encompassing all of me. It was a lot to explain. I didn’t know who to be for you.

And that summer I felt very strongly attached to you, and with good reason. It was difficult to define, to explain. But I was a newcomer in a different place, I was your guest. I was along for the ride. So keeping my mouth shut, I basked in whatever flowed around me. And there was a lot. And it truly was wonderful.

I left a paper on your coffee table that I wished I had brought home with me. Maybe your scribbles could have brought comfort on a dark, uncertain evenings when you would go radio silent, or when I would doubt my life.

You made me want to believe in the future. You made me believe in myself. You gave me joy and importance and made me feel like I mattered. And it changed my life. You changed my life.

So when you opened the door to find me on the floor of your apartment, listening to Chaos and Creation in the BackyardI continued to lay there and perhaps glanced up, the spell still partially intact. I trusted you. I explained my sadness. You understood.

 

self-care

self care is background music, blowing smoke out the window in giddy silence

self care is snacks and eating whatever you want (while logging it in your food tracker)

self care is clear blue sky walks with sunglasses and more music, but closer to your eardrums

self care is taking big deep breaths; so deep you can feel them fill your lungs

self care is watching birds watch you

self care is having seconds and knowing when enough is enough

self care is all-day pajamas, anything goes tv marathon

self care is sunshine and laughter,

a solitary afternoon in your own company

no obligations, but to yourself

to live the human experience

emotional self-reliance

freedom – no fear

Nina Simone-timbred, blue floodlight vocals

and jazz and good pop music that will surely

break your heart.

 

sunday

It’s Sunday morning and I just finished having a fairly delicious Honeycrisp apple with cinnamon and almond butter. You know when I woke up my body said, “Drape me in bacon!”, but my mind was more like, “Let’s go with that apple”. So I did. And I guess my body is appreciative of that too.

I was supposed to work today, but long story short ended up not having to. So now I’m off and home and it’s glorious. I think I want to focus on reading today. Finishing up The Goblet of Fire at least. That, and hanging up my guitar wall mounts with my dad. I’m trying to just clear some floor space in my room and the mounts weren’t expensive so I’m happy about that. Really getting into that spring cleaning vibe.

Yesterday I did end up going to yoga with a friend. It was a really challenging class (even for her and she’s a yoga instructor), but I tried to pace myself, breathe, take my time, and really move at my own pace, not doing anything that I knew I couldn’t or felt uncomfortable. I am sore today, but it’s not too bad.

It looks really beautiful out today. Crisp blue sky, barely any clouds, clear sunshine. But it’s still too cold to go on a walk. Though I just checked my weather app and it looks like it is supposed to get up to 58 today! I may go for a mid-afternoon walk if that’s the case.

But for now, I’m continuing to sip my mid-morning coffee and attempting to hold together the emotional fragility that often seems to permeate this household. -_-

It’s a task I find myself engaged in far too frequently.

 

Rocking Horse

It’s almost 1 AM and I’m not sure why I’m still so awake. I do have work tomorrow…at 11. I still need to be up at a respectable time. But damn, I am up and alert.

I know it’s been a little bit since I’ve hit up the ol’ blog. Not sure where we left off…but I bought a Gibson Les Paul, work has been busy but great, and I’ve fallen off my yoga game. Haven’t been in a bit and really need to make the time to go back and getting into a routine again. Might go Saturday morning. Balancing yoga with work has been tough lately.

The Gibson plays great, though I still swear up and down this thing needs a neck adjustment. I’m starting to hear a little buzz on the 1st and 2nd strings at the 1st fret. Like I’ll pay the damn $65 for the setup, I’d just like my strings not to buzz, thanks.

I wrote a new song tonight. It’s one of those songs that as I was writing it, I wasn’t sure what the hell I was writing about but I kept going with it ’til I finished. It’s kind of like sculpting in that way; Like, I don’t know what shape I’m going to end up with, but I’m following the marble, you know? It’s part improvisational, part intuition(al?). But yeah I wrote this song about sex and money. And then after sitting with it for awhile, I realized another way to read it is that it could definitely be about heroin. Which kind of makes sense if my subconscious was at the wheel writing this thing; This past weekend I finished up a podcast called Crimetown, and Season 2 talks about the history of Detroit corruption and drugs (namely heroin) is a big part of that story. It’s kind of been in my mind, rattling around. Here are the lyrics:

[Verse 1]
Rocking horse and Canadian money
Gonna make it out of this one fine
Rocking horse and my sexuality
Baby, baby won’t you help me cross that line?
[Verse 2]
Fill the bag to the brim – don’t question me
Cash and carry and I don’t wanna know why
Your driver’s seat with the window open
Now ask me what it’s like to feel alive.
[Chorus]
I live on the edge
I’m dangerous
And I’ll never forget
The way you touch
me in bed
and give me head.
Expensive memories.
Shallow regret.
[Verse 3]
Silver stallion in lucrative industry
I feel the groove of the saddle against my thighs
“Rebel Rebel”, but you ain’t foolin’ me.
Making it look so easy, you don’t even try.
[Verse 4]
And you’re a sweet ideal. Automatic love affair.
Expert level all the time
Back and forth in arbitrary movement.
But he’s not a poet, he is just some guy.
[Chorus]
I live on the edge
I’m dangerous
And I’ll never forget
The way you touch
me in bed
and give me head.
Expensive memories.
Shallow regret.
[Outro]
Rocking horse and Canadian money
Gonna make it out of this one fine

But anyway, you don’t have to take my word for it – As a songwriter all the songs I write will usually have purpose and meaning particular to me, but that doesn’t mean it can’t have more than one meaning, or a different meaning to someone else. It’s all kind of fluid in that way, IMO.

So the last time I was at yoga was actually two weeks ago I think. It was this self-love workshop which incorporated crystals and reiki and a light warm vinyasa flow. And I had this really awesome transcendental experience I’d like to write about. But I don’t know if I have it in me tonight to do it. Perhaps another time.

Going to see if I can fall into a good night’s sleep. I’m starting to yawn, so maybe I’ll just roll with that too. See where it takes me. More soon.

-RKB

Fender Zebra

It’s a little after 1 PM and I’m starting to feel a little sleepy. I’m still in my PJs – That needs to change soon. I’ve had an interesting Sunday morning; spent mostly posting some things on eBay. Things that have been piling up around my space. I feel like the Sisyphusian Minimalist. That is 100% not a thing, but I am making it a thing – I strive for the minimalist life, but it’s often like a pushing up a boulder up a hill only to have it roll back down. But that’s alright. I hate throwing things out that other might like and appreciate. So I eBay them. If they don’t bite, then I toss ’em. It takes a lot of time to post things up there. You have to make sure your photos and description are good. It’s quality control, really. Because you want attract your potential buyer as much as you want to accurately convey what they’re getting.

There was once a time when I was not working when I was eBay enough per month to make my student loan payments. Those were interesting times. Also during those times I was a really in a dark and deep depression. I’ve been finding old songs everywhere and I’ve been attempting to catalog them in a very large binder, putting them in chronological order and wow – I was really really really depressed then (around 2014). A lot of my lyrics during that time were dark, often contemplating death and mortality. So glad I was able to pull myself out of there.

My ankles are feeling better since last week. My left hip is still not 100%, but I think I may be well enough to hop on the elliptical machine. And boy, do I need it. I went a little over my calorie limit yesterday because my mom brought home empanadas (!!! surprise !!!) and they were so good. If I had restrained myself, I would have eaten within my limits (but then I wouldn’t have enjoyed those tasty lil’ pockets of deliciousness). Still, I still feel kind of full from yesterday and I’m sure my body would appreciate some endorphin release today.

It’s supposed to snow really hard. Which is wild because the sky was blue and sun was out minutes ago. It’s starting to get overcast but still no snow yet.

No guitar updates today. I’m still torn with no end in sight. Still shopping and researching. However I will say this: I was looking up pickguards for my Fender Squier Affinity P-Bass and I found one with Zebra print which looked fun, so I ordered it. I also then found a Planet Waves Zebra strap. I bought that too. But when that pickguard comes in and I put it on my bass, I’m going to take Zebra duct tape, tape over the “Squier” part of the headstock (sorta like I did with my “franken-Strat” and get some alphabet stickers and spell out “Z E B R A” over it. So move over Fender Mustang! Here comes the Fender ZEBRA. Ha! It’s gonna be great. I think because these guitars were so cheap, but are also in good working order and I don’t want to part with them, I’m just having fun with them. I’m making them unique and fitting to my personality. No guitars are ever going to look like mine. And I like that. This isn’t something that came off the factory assembly line. This has been Roe-ified! And it’s great and amazing and I’m so glad I can express myself creatively in this way.

Hope y’all have a great day. Think I’ll start getting ready to work out.

Peace –