Asmodeus

No time for love Dr. Jones
2003-06-18 01:25:27 (UTC)

Look out motherfuckers here I come, gonna make my head my home...

Ever been in a situation where all you wanted to do was to
tell someone exactly where to go? Ever been in a position
where the only thing that could possibly calm your growing
anger would be to yell and scream at someone until you were
hoarse?

At the moment I’m in that position twice. On one hand my
band mates are turning on each other in petty, squabbling
fights that make me want to leave and give up music all
together.

This is something that 2 years ago I could never conceive,
giving up music and not going back. Music has always been
something I could turn to, to take my mind off of whatever
wasn’t going right in my life. When I had my car accident
and I thought that I’d ruined my life, that I’d be going to
jail, losing my job, stuck in debt for the rest of my life
(which wasn’t too far from the truth), I could sit down and
strum something to calm the growing depression that was
threatening to take over. When Kelly left me, I sat down
and wrote some of the angriest, most honest songs I’ve ever
written. Whenever Carolyn and I fought, I’d sit down and
bash out some old thrash riff I’d written, or go over to
Rob’s place for some noise therapy.

But lately, playing music just frustrates me. It reminds me
that as long as I’m with Danny and Greg, I’m never going to
have the chance to play MY music the way I want it played.
Danny said to me not long ago, that if I wanted to bring my
music into the band, I’d have to be prepared to have it
butchered so that the rest of the group could feel
comfortable playing their part. Well fuck that. If I’m
going to write something honest and mean and loud, and
Danny wants to bastardise it to fuel his Bono obsession
that’s his fucking problem. If he has issues with feeling
inadequate about his lyrics, let him cry about it in some
bullshit ballad he writes, not tamper with my expression.
To tell the truth, the only reason I haven’t told Greg and
Danny to go fuck themselves, is because I’m sick of having
no friends in Adelaide. As sad and pathetic as it is, they
represent all the people I know, and therefore all I can do
with myself when Belinda’s not around.

Which brings me to my next problem, namely Belinda. Lately
she’s been getting pissy about some shit, but refuses to
talk about it. I suspect she thinks that I don’t love her,
or more specifically that I don’t love her as much as she
loves me. I really don’t know what to do about it, I do
love her and unlike any other relationship I’ve ever had, I
don’t think about leaving her. But it’s getting harder not
to consider that an option, the more she bottles things
like this up, the further she pushes me away. Which leaves
me out of the loop and alone in our relationship. I really
don’t know how much more of this sort of treatment I can
take, it may well come down to whether or not she wants to
be with me any longer, regardless of how I feel. I know
that I love her, but if she has problems that make me feel
that she doesn’t love me, I can’t be with her.




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