Journeyman in the 26th Street...

- Time ain't coming back, son... 

A friend of mine has this quote that goes... "Death or Glory". He knows way better than me what does it mean...

Time sure does fly... 


I always think of the years behind me as if they were yesterday... It feels weird having a certain age where you're expected to do "some things" according to the normal "behavior" of society and adults.


Remorse of the things done and undone is a waste... It's a waste of energy, of will power... of determination. Thousands of times before my 26th birthday my conscience attacked me incessantly about a lot of things, specially the ones I haven't done yet or left undone... Like a machine gun fully loaded with the most powerful gun powder, my brain projected images, feelings, sounds trying to make me plead for mercy... trying to make me go crazy... trying to make all my efforts and decisions vain.


But I'm stronger... I know that... just like some kind of veteran soldier who have fought an entire war almost his whole life. A war for survivalism, a war for mental sanity... a war for spiritual enlightening... a war against myself.


On my way to one of my journeys, I realised that it's better to accept what we haven't done... and reconsider if we could do something, yet. If don't, it would be like fighting a battle with wooden swords against an enemy who have nuclear bombs. Being myself the wooden-armed soldier, and being my conscience the bomb-armed entity.


If I was sentenced to shot myself with a bullet for each chance I've missed, in any aspect, I'd be dead. All the shots of the bullets would aim directly towards my head... towards my hands, and towards my legs. Being the reason, for thinking too much, for not doing anything, for not moving in the right direction.


Man, how much have I lost... Money, Opportunities, Women... all the "things" that make one man's life "good". But, you know what... It's allright... losing is a way of understanding... losing is a way of learning ain't nothing granted, for no one... losing is a way to be humble... to be open... to be present.


I'd like to believe that in some weird way, life's been trying to teach me a lot of things, which in some way, I either, accepted or refused. It could be anything, it could be how to do something, it could be how to make money, it could be about women... but life's always there, teaching something... the hard way. And I like it.


And that's why I feel more alive than ever...


The more the days pass and the more I realise I'm 26, I understand that all of these events, have happened or not because of my own decisions, being myself the architect of my own destiny. Maybe I'm designing my destiny not in a Le-Corbusier-esque way, but rather, in a Dali-esque way... in a wild, self-destructive, spiritual, reconstructive way.


What to create, What to destroy? I'm not sure, I guess it depends of the heat of the moment.


Sometimes I'm peaceful... Sometimes I'm the wildest thunder... 


I see destruction as a way of creating something new. Maybe, I have to destroy the worst parts of myself to get the real diamond in the rough beneath this skin... beneath this ancient shelter.

From zero to one... from river, to ocean... I realised I'm like nature. 

Violent, but Calm. Silent, but Noisy at the same time

Love and hate living inside ... I am the beginning, and I am the end.

I am the sinner and I am the saint

The saint wishes to be loved like a sinner.

I hate and I understand myself

It's human to hate yourself... as it is human to make mistakes. 

The Death of Music... < Written by Robert Fripp >

Robert Fripp

For those of you who know me, Robert Fripp means a Father figure in both musical and spiritual aspects of guitar playing. Much of the people I admire, play the guitar like in a sexual way, which I am not saying is wrong, but personally, I feel more identified with Robert's approach of playing as both a craftsman, and as some sort of monk.


In any case, this is not an article "praising" and saying that he's the best guitar player in the history of guitar...  
< To me, he actually is, but I understand we all have our own preferences, so it would be ignorant to say this as a definitive statement >


This is something I want to share for my fellow musicians friends < and fellow guitar players > to read...

The Death of Music

If you know what you are going to play, play something else; or nothing at all.

After all, why hit the right note when a lot more notes get in the way?

One string is often sufficient; and sometimes already one string too many...

Rhythm becomes more apparent when we stop playing from time to time.

Dynamics are good, and more obvious when some notes are quieter than others.

If you like to hit things loudly, constantly, relentlessly, consider becoming a drummer.

Loud, endless strumming = death.

Good to listen to yourself; but listening to others is necessary. 

Remain in motion, whether stationary or not: Stillness is dynamic, and only appears to be static.

Breathing is permissible

The criteria are reliability, repeatability & responsibility.

You are playing with friends;whether you like them or not, whether they like you, or not; whether we know it or not.
If none of these apply to you, a career in artist management, A&R or drumming is waiting.


Qualities of time & our experiencing of it…

                                                                                          Creative Time
                                                                         My beginning & end are not apart
                                                                I Am one instantaneous moment of presence
       

                                                                      Time’s Cycle                    Eternity
                                                       Welcome the unexpected            This is the first time


                                                                                      Time’s Arrow
                                                                              One thing after another
                                                                              Welcome the expected

Why was I born ... ?

As I'm writing these lines down, I'm getting closer to my 26's ... closer to the 30's...

I just read right now that Autumn started. The time when the whole ambient gets gloomy, darker, slow motioned... monochrome. The leaves fall, the alive becomes dead, the sky turns grey... 

Slipping away from any sign of my former youth...

I am not scared of being old at all, in fact, I think it's quite something I made up to this point of my short, weird, sometimes worthy, sometimes miserable < just like everyone's > life. When I was younger, I thought of suicide every time my eyes blinked... Back then, I always saw salvation in a silver bullet. A river of thoughts have gone through my mind, I've felt the indifference daggers, the falls, the near-death experiences, but I'm still here, standing.

As usual, music has been with me this whole year... I've been getting some music knowledge since January, nothing makes me more happy than that. People are happy with pretty much ridiculous things, such as fame, stability, and attention. I don't give a fuck about those, as long as I've got music with me...

Maybe, that's the real reason I was born. Music... The moment I'm away from it, it's the moment I become destructive, angry, and even mad... Like fishes need water to survive, I need music to behave. In any form, in any style... the need of hearing music, of playing it, of studying it as much as I can and the need of rooting it deep down in my spirit, keeps growing every day...

I have realized that, the more I understand music, the more I understand the nature of the human spirit.

Chaos, oh yes... It's everywhere, every day, every night. It's always looking down on each one of us, but we don't realise it. The moment it visits us, the moment we panic. And most of the times, we lose a great chance to show how strong our spirit is... To understand this, one must have to learn how to spill the water, how to make a mess, how to lose, how to break the glass...

But I'm pretty sure, few are the ones who dare to destroy... to lose, because most of us, are afraid...

Why Men are not humble enough to thank the Sun, every day?
Is it because, the sun would not always give us what we ask from him?
- How miserable are we?

It makes sense I was born this time of the year, my character just reflects the time I was born...

Darkness doesn't mean, that there isn't life. It means, that it's a light we should see with our eyes closed.