I'm laying on my back in the middle of the floor, searching for meaningful pictures in the seemingly ambiguous patterns scattered across the ceiling. I've been listening to Tom Gabel's solo project through the last crackling speaker left in my 1948 laptop. The acoustic version of Random Hearts is fantastic. This record sort of made Against Me!'s seemingly instant leap from gritty acoustic screaming to polished and professional melodic rock make a bit more sense. Good stuff. On an observational side note, band names with exclamation points look ridiculous when used in a possessive context (see above). I booked another radio interview/acoustic performance for next week, this time in support of my own musical endeavors rather than someone else's band. There's something more fulfilling doing it this way; even if the money isn't there. The dependancy on someone else to move a project forward is stupidly exhausting and often more frustrating than profitable. I don't know if it comes down to my simple hatred for the human race or if I just don't like someone else holding the keys to my destiny, but I'm pretty sure that I hate both the human race and anyone attempting to hold my preverbal destinal keys. I'm kind of excited about this whole live in my truck and tour the southeast situation that I've been planing. I want to be somewhere, and being back on the road might solidify that equivocal emotion. When it really comes down to it I know exactly where I want to be; I'll just never willingly admit that to myself as it seems to be the first thing I've ever perceived as impossible. I guess impossibilities are possible. Regardless, it doesn't change a thing.
It's my grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary tomorrow...and there's your title explanation.
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