08-31-2014, 11:26 AM
God I'm so jealous and miserable right now.
It's my best friend, John. He is absolutely phenomenal at drums over the 12 years that he's been playing and teaching other people. He has dedicated most of his life since he started to it, by participating in orchestras, jazz bands, military bands, and his rock band, Waking Gray. His family quickly discovered that he was a child prodigy at drums, and because they're rather rich, they've been able to afford him to buy a custom shop Pearl Masterworks kit along with some absolutely amazing synths, along with a load of other gear that is worth a stupid amount of money. In some cases he gets his gear for pocket change. Like this one instance where he makes a deal with one of his drum students regarding a trade. John ended up trading a $300 ride cymbal he owned for an electronic organ the student's family was trying to get rid of. Evidently that family who owned it had absolutely no clue on the value of it because upon doing a little research, John realized that he just acquired an organ worth $80,000. For 300 fucking bucks!
But the fact that he gets gear that I can only dream of, seemingly out of thin air, isn't what gets me the most. It's his natural talent and the opportunities he's been given. His band, Waking Gray has just finished recording 4 of their songs in a professional studio yesterday. Mixing engineers are used to seeing the sorts that consider themselves hot shit with their instruments, but even the engineers were amazed at how someone who has been playing drums for 12 years has become so proficient. They told him that he is very, very close to being world class, with the likes of Mike Mangini, Gavin Harrison and Mike Portnoy. John is more optimistic than ever now. He said to me before I went to bed that he now knows that music is his life purpose. And he is determined to do anything, even if it means being a homeless person on the streets, to see his band be successful. And in me seeing his relentless dedication in his craft, I know that he means it. He never says anything without meaning it.
His unfolding success tears me apart in so many ways. Not only is he unabashedly following his dreams, and he has had the connections and resources to fuel it, the greatest thing I'm jealous of him for is that he knows what he wants.
Throughout my entire life, I have always approached life half-heartedly, whether it's my work or my hobbies or the relationships in my family because I still don't know what I want my life to be about after contemplating for so long. And it's all my fault. A part of me even wants me never to know the ecstasy of meaning, as it's all part of liberating my self-hatred. It's mental self-harm. I almost want to be a shitty, cynical, jealous and bitter person because perhaps then I'll be miserable enough to end all this suffering by killing myself.
I absolutely love John. He is the most wonderful person I've ever known and probably will ever know. He represents everything I've ever wanted to be. I've always wanted to be an incredible musician, but I've never put in enough dedication to do so. And again, part of me wishes I never will be dedicated.
At times, the same part of me that wishes me dead wishes me to live on for the sake of death chastity. So that the torture can eat away at my heart even further.
It's my best friend, John. He is absolutely phenomenal at drums over the 12 years that he's been playing and teaching other people. He has dedicated most of his life since he started to it, by participating in orchestras, jazz bands, military bands, and his rock band, Waking Gray. His family quickly discovered that he was a child prodigy at drums, and because they're rather rich, they've been able to afford him to buy a custom shop Pearl Masterworks kit along with some absolutely amazing synths, along with a load of other gear that is worth a stupid amount of money. In some cases he gets his gear for pocket change. Like this one instance where he makes a deal with one of his drum students regarding a trade. John ended up trading a $300 ride cymbal he owned for an electronic organ the student's family was trying to get rid of. Evidently that family who owned it had absolutely no clue on the value of it because upon doing a little research, John realized that he just acquired an organ worth $80,000. For 300 fucking bucks!
But the fact that he gets gear that I can only dream of, seemingly out of thin air, isn't what gets me the most. It's his natural talent and the opportunities he's been given. His band, Waking Gray has just finished recording 4 of their songs in a professional studio yesterday. Mixing engineers are used to seeing the sorts that consider themselves hot shit with their instruments, but even the engineers were amazed at how someone who has been playing drums for 12 years has become so proficient. They told him that he is very, very close to being world class, with the likes of Mike Mangini, Gavin Harrison and Mike Portnoy. John is more optimistic than ever now. He said to me before I went to bed that he now knows that music is his life purpose. And he is determined to do anything, even if it means being a homeless person on the streets, to see his band be successful. And in me seeing his relentless dedication in his craft, I know that he means it. He never says anything without meaning it.
His unfolding success tears me apart in so many ways. Not only is he unabashedly following his dreams, and he has had the connections and resources to fuel it, the greatest thing I'm jealous of him for is that he knows what he wants.
Throughout my entire life, I have always approached life half-heartedly, whether it's my work or my hobbies or the relationships in my family because I still don't know what I want my life to be about after contemplating for so long. And it's all my fault. A part of me even wants me never to know the ecstasy of meaning, as it's all part of liberating my self-hatred. It's mental self-harm. I almost want to be a shitty, cynical, jealous and bitter person because perhaps then I'll be miserable enough to end all this suffering by killing myself.
I absolutely love John. He is the most wonderful person I've ever known and probably will ever know. He represents everything I've ever wanted to be. I've always wanted to be an incredible musician, but I've never put in enough dedication to do so. And again, part of me wishes I never will be dedicated.
At times, the same part of me that wishes me dead wishes me to live on for the sake of death chastity. So that the torture can eat away at my heart even further.
☮ (´・É・`) ☮