I guess this is growing up?

your argument trying to guilt me into visiting you on a whim in austin is not quite as persuasive when your bitch ass wont even drive 15 mins to hang out when your in town… 

an so starts learning to say no to friends…. sorry NO i can’t come

should i do a complete overhaul of the strat or just get her back to playable?

All she REALLY needs is a new output jack, and the electronics wiring cleaned up.

buuuut id also really like to get new tuning pegs, intonation fixed, a light bit of fret scalping on the 12-22 frets, and adding the two passive stock pickups (neck and middle) back in so that id have orig strat single neck, orig start neck+middle, emg 85x as my 3 pos switch.

do i really need all this…. no. but still…

im slowly starting to appreciate that my life hasn’t gone the way i expected, the way everyone elses seems to

i always worried so much about how everyone was growing up but me. how people were forming romantic relationships, falling in love, getting married, and i knew nothing of any of said things. i always felt like that was a handicap. that i was at a disadvantage by having not experienced those things yet. so not only was i left feeling alone, but also different, broken, useless. how could i be help to anyone if i haven’t experienced the things they are grappling with. and if i can do nothing for them, why do they even bother talking to me in the first place?

then something got me thinking. at least in academia, seeing things normally, seeing them like everyone else does is a death sentence to mediocrity. I mean it’s quite obvious that if you see a problem like someone else does, you are no more likely to solve it then them. it’s only when you can see things differently that you can really push boarders. do things no one else before you could. and the masses will flock, trying to learn to see things the way you do, not realising that it will make no difference. that in thinking conventionally, treading on broken ground, you will always be a step behind.

and the same can be said for music, art, dance, or anything that adds value to the world. so why wouldn’t relationships follow the same principal. why do we feel we have to have a girlfriend by then, and sex by so and so, and married with kids before you turn 26 or whatever the hell bullshit people are spewing out?

by not knowing those things yet, it has let me see the world differently, let me see the world with a full adult mind without being fettered by the burdens that come with it. i can always change the fact that i haven’t had a real relationship, but i could never change the fact that i had.

Strings

There is nothing quite like the sound of fresh strings on a guitar. That very first chord you hit rings with such a brightness and pop, that it’s somewhat indescribable. So when he turned that last peg, and brought the tension up to just the right point that it danced up and down, down in up, right at 440, he knew it was love. He played for hours and hours that day, and again the next, and again the next. But as the weeks went by, the strings started to settle in and mellow out. Rounding out their tone, and become less abrasive, more comfortable, more traditional. While he did slow, he never did stopped playing, until one day, that day that he always dreads.

A loud pop and a lightning fast cut, only comparable in speed and ferocity to that, a lady’s scorn. He wiped the little cut on his cheek and put her down. A few days later he was dying to play again. “The break wasn’t so bad,” he though to himself. “Surely if I unwind the peg a bit, get some slack, I can still tune her up and be playing again.” And so he did.

Only a few days passed before it broke again. And he though to himself, “there’s still enough slack that I can manage to make it playable again. And this time I’ll extra careful with that string.” And things seemed good, so it seemed. He played on carefully, never digging in, always holding back. half hearted. Soon less and less he played. The passion, the beauty, the essence were gone. Maybe to the unfamiliar, it might sound alright, but he knew it was only a hollow sound of what used to be.

A month went by, and he hadn’t picked her up. He felt like no joy could come of it. But one day, as he listened to his music, he knew what he needed to do. As much as he didn’t want to, he knew. He picked her up, and with the most delicate of hands, tuned her to perfection. Not even a quarter cent off would do. And with heavy heart, he formed with his hands the shape of a big open D major and dug in with all his heart. For a brief moment, everything was perfect again. And then it was gone.

And off he went to find a new string.