June 21, 1994
The first time I ever tried playing a chord was this pathetic attempt at making music. I don't even think I was in tune when I tried strumming it. But I didn't care. I was obsessed with the guitar. I was always enamored with the idea of being this big time musician. To me it was the pinnacle of happiness to pick up my guitar and pretend to be Jimi Hendrix who, at the time, I just adored. With the first guitar comes the whole getting into music phrase. Ya know, when you start listening to more and more music just because you really want to say I play guitar! yet you know that just playing one cord doesn't make you a musician.
I was twelve the first time I played a guitar. Why did I ever start playing guitar? I think I just wanted to kill time or get girls to bang me. Either way, it's a reason, right? My parents and my brothers never wanted to spend time with me so I just put all my time into guitar; I just sought after a way to kill time. I played sports with the neighborhood kids but they were in high school and started chasing after more important things like cigarettes and chicks. After school I'd come home and play to songs. Whether or not I was in tune was irrelevant. I just wanted to be really good. Oh, and being Eddie Van Halen at 14 years old was a must. I mean, come on, Panama and Eruption are forever badass. From the first time I picked up the guitar, I never knew how much my world would change. And most of it changed for the worst.
August 2, 2000
My head hurts like crazy and I have raccoon eyes from the fight last night. I don't usually go out and pick fights but if I need to defend myself then I will. Me and my band By The Way Of Assyria played our headlining show at The Cave last night. It's a hole in the wall but it has liquor so I'm not complaining. My lead vocalist Donny got into this scrape with a drunk heckler and the next thing I know I'm thrown into a ditch about two blocks away from the venue. Apparently I wasn't paying attention in health or physics but always know this: Any fist with enough momentum behind it hurts. Despite some fat bastard shoving his fist around, we got paid good last night. A full house always treats us well in New York City. I've been living by myself ever since my parents gave me the boot back in July for screwing some broad at home while they were away and they walked in. Either my old man's just jealous for me nailing a good looking broad or he was actually mad since it was one of his client's daughters. Either way I didn't care so I left. It isn't easy to live on your own, especially when you're all alone with your thoughts. But I'm more used to being alone than I ever thought prior to me being in my own apartment. At 3:30 in the afternoon today we have band practice back at our bassist Tyler's place. The taste of blood is still fresh in my mouth and my chest has nothing but bruises on it. I ran back into my living room to see if my Fender, Chloe, was still okay. She's as beautiful as ever. Yes, I name my guitars after women, since fingering a guy would be really weird. It gets to a point when you're so obsessed about music that you worry over your instruments more than the fact that you probably have your nose broken but then you look in the mirror and realize that it's only dislocated. Those things heal pretty fast so I just reset ithurts like a bitch but as long as I don't have to go to the hospital then I don't care. I never thought I'd be here when I strummed that first chord many years ago. But then again I was willing to believe that I'd make it as a musician. And something inside of me still clings on to that hope. And the other side of me just wants to scream since I just reset a dislocated nose. It's 4:00 in the morning and I got a police escort home. The officers know me by name by now. Heck, I get free donuts every now and then.
Typical rockstar lifestyleIn a weird sort of way.