On the road

6 more miles.
Because of dinner.

I like going out. Even if my feet hurt for now. They won't hurt tomorrow morning.

I miss my instrument. I mean my brass instruments. Tuba, trombone... Oh well, tomorrow I'll find some time for music.

Tomorrow my friend is going to crash my house at 8am. I am going to be using a lot of energy tomorrow. I better catch some sleep.


Stay Beautiful

Hope this works

I haven't done mobile blogging in a while.  If I do it then I am probably at work or in any other situation I need to pretend I am sending an email to somebody.  Little do they know I am writing to you.
 
Physically things have changed.  My throat got scratchy.  My eyelids heavy.  My muslces are getting fatigue.  And its getting harder to try.  Getting hungrier.
I'm starting to look better.
Even if I do "look dead tired."  I'll get over it.
I mean... I'll get to it.
It.
 
I've been thinking about it.  How it doesn't move, but it feels like when you should be getting closer because you have made progress... it feels farther.  It makes no sense, but you want it.  You work to earn it.  You love it.
 
And you can't live with it.  And it hurts.
 
But thats all it is.
 
You can't stop.
And I don't know why.
It sounds so easy.
But it is not.
 
 
At work... I haven't been here for a while.  I have a lot of work this week.
Before work I ran 8 miles.
Work seems to have less work than I remember.  But I just got here.  There is more waiting for me.  Sometimes I wonder what kind of employee I would be if I wasn't so dizzy.  Then again, I make a remarkably coordinated dizzy person.  I like hunger highs, and mixing them with endophins...  hehe.
Back to work.
 
 
Stay Beautiful

Semifinals

Dizzy
Clear

The days go by. I'm doing okay. Its been 30 hours and I have had 1 'meal'. Been walking a lot.
I didn't want to sleep last night, so I walked for 3 hours. They locked me inside on my first hour though, so I paced back and forth for 2 hours like I was crazy or something was wrong.
People asked me what is wrong.

I don't have an answer for that.
Just been light headed.
Been empty.
I know that is right.


Been a little high, from the hunger. Not used to it yet.
But its so good to be able to feel my hipbones again. and when I lay on my back my ribs are so much farther than my stomach.
I'm working for it.



Stay Beautiful

Bus fight

weighing at 180 pounds... D.S.!
Weighing at... "140" (144 fatso) Me...

I fought, and I won.
The rules are you shove at each other until you get the other person past the barrier.


I pulled through because of you Appendix.


Stay Beautiful

Quarterfinals

Starting now its on my mind. Starting now the word it has a new meaning. "It" is my own personal perfection, and I'm going to be it at any cost. You can watch me.

I just performed my quarterfinals run. Wow...
Wow, because I'm hungry already. But hunger is nothing but a perception.
I don't need to eat for a while. The word snack means nothing. Its like when a computer is given a command it doesn't understand. Snack: NULL.

Tea. Tea is an elixir of flavor to battle extreme fatigue. Tea is not a staple. Tea is a secret weapon.
Walking. Walking is necessary to drain time. Time disappears when you walk. Calories are burned. And then, you are closer to being it. It takes time, and walking is time. Walking burns time.


For now... I am signing off.
It is on my mind.
It.



Stay Beautiful

My Complaining Rights

I wonder if I have a right to say how I feel, because for some reason right now I think I can sum up enough shit to build a pretty good sketch of what its like to be me right now.

My feet hurt. Every step there is some part of my foot with a callus, blister, funny pressure thing going on... Yeah, and I've been running miles and miles, getting nowhere.
My mind feels washed out. I'm so tired from all the work that I feel like I've been crying all day, but my feet remind me that I've actually been moving around.
Then my body... feels fine. This is strange. I put my body through a lot, I lug around 30 extra pounds of tuba that my arms have to control, my shoulder has to carry, and my legs have to transport. I also carried someone who weighs more than me from the field to the bus because they were injured and for some reason people twice my size put her down after only a tenth of the distance I pulled her. Yeah it was hard. It felt like I was crying sweat, but if I have trained for anything, its pulling my fat ass and even more extra weight.

So how do I feel?

I hate muscle.
grrr... I don't look anything like I should. And its because I have been striving for success in this activity more than self-image. Its nice to know I can do something well in the world, something difficult that other people can't do as well. But... I'm still tired after every rep. I'm still falling asleep while walking at the end of the night. I can't keep up.
Its almost over.
Then my feet won't hurt anymore, and my life will become something else. I will have to find some way to figure out what I am supposed to do...

I still haven't spoken. I don't remember... I think this is day 8, tomorrow day 9? I don't know... I started on July 31, so every day in August has been the amount of days I have been silent for.
One of my techs told me I wouldn't be allowed to participate in Quarterfinals if I refuse to talk. I hope he holds to that...

But he won't. I'm too darn important.
I don't feel important. All I feel is a dull pain and exhaustion.
I can't be tired.
I am not giving up.
Just catching some bus sleep soon.

We go from New Jersey to Indiana tonight: 700 miles (14 hours).
goodnight?



Stay Beautiful

35 Miles to Massachusets

I got frustrated today, to the point I pretty much squeaked a word.
If you don't count that, it will have been 7 days since I last spoke after today is over. I am on day 7, and I had planned on only going a week.

But it wouldn't be fair for me to speak my mind.
I have stacked my frustrations so high that only this unlimited sky of silence is large enough to hold them all. If I throw out my frustrations on my fellow corps members it would hurt them. Instructors tell me that my silence is too much...
I am too much. There are so many things that really don't matter that I want to fix.
The hornline has awful posture. A certain tuba player needs a brain. Our Alternate needs to get a dot, there are two open and he isn't doing anything for them. People need to shut up. People need to run more. People need to do yard lining more effectively- I have to say I think my way is the best, but mostly because I stole most of Mr. Indiana's ways. My section is fragile. My section settles for less. My section doesn't know their music. My section isn't strong enough to hold up their horns. My section isn't strong enough to march and play a show. My section can't march with correct technique.

DO YOU SEE?
None of this matters.
But we are taught here that drum corps is our lives while we are here.
All these people, they already know these things. If I yelled at them it would only add to the pressure they have given themselves and the instructors give to them. The most I could do is teach one of the willing what he needs to know, and I will do that, without words even. Of all the individuals here, he is one of the people I enjoy having as a comrade. Him, Jesse, Rhino, Mr Indiana, Tim... there are other people that I can work well with. I just don't get the time. They will be unmentioned.
None of it really matters.
We will not make Semi-Finals. I know this already. It hasn't happened yet, but I already know we won't quite get there this year.

And next year... I plan to move on.

I am ready to move on now.


Unrelated, I plan on writing arrangements in scale degrees so I can practice fun songs in random keys. I have already done Jupiter from Gustav Holst and Amazing Grace. I plan to do more.

Errrr... I hate being light headed because I am out of energy even though I ate. This activity takes a lot of energy...

Stay Beautiful