Something for anyone

Hi.

You may know me. You probably don't. I am about as impersonal as you can get. A stream of electrons flipping switches an inconscionable number of times to display myself as words on your screen, an image in the corner, and an ego based on your own perceptions. I am miles away, or right next door. I am your friend, or I am your enemy, or I am neither. I exist, but only as a predetermined shape and format before you, made more commercially available and publicly accessible to lend value to a product to drive commerce via advertising. My font is predetermined. My size is predetermined. My position is predetermined. My words, however, are not. These are what allows me to communicate with you a semblance of my thought processes, for those that I can express. For those that I cannot via traditional literary communication, visit my music sites for explorations into other pathos that I haven't found a way to describe as of yet.

I will warn you outright, for those who have virgin eyes. I will say fuck (oh no!!). I will say damn. I will say shit, Christ, jesus, goddamnit, cunt, pussy, bitch, dick, cock, pimp, ho, weed, dirty sanchez, ass, porn, blowjobs, handjobs, piss, murder, slaughter, rape, genocide, patricide, pesticide, and, context aside, all beside fratricide, so best hide eyes. I'm not sure why I use such language, other than I always have, and enjoy making what few people left that can squirm in their now-moistened underwear. :) Squirm, you Squirmers. Also, in all honesty, it may be because it helps weed out my interactions with people who are intolerant or narrowminded and insecure, as they will often cling to an ideal or 'moral' as a means for some form of center, which really only justifies their condemnation of whomever does not do things the way they are told is the 'right way'. It keeps the sheep from drowning out the shepherd, in other words.

I will say many things. I will rant. I will rave. I will scream. I will bark. I only bite when pain is involved. I will never bite as long as it just involves me receiving pain. I will bite if someone I care about is receiving the pain. So don't bitchslap my friends, or my loved ones. You can be Jesus and hurting the person I care about, and you will have just made me your enemy. The contradiction is that I will resort to stinging you a little if I think it will help shock you out of a mindset or misconception. I know what I know is right. It comes from personal experience, and observations of others experiences I don't want to repeat, and from listening to my elders and what they recommend and went through. There are a number of ways to go through life. I want to make it as far as possible with as few of road-snares as possible.

Recently, I've been made aware of how impossible this is. I am beginning to understand the phrase that keeps creeping up, "It's your life." I've done a lot in my life. Some things I can't talk about, and will haunt me to my grave. Some things that I'm very proud of that no one else could have done. Mostly, though, it's a lot of mundane nonsenses just for the sake of perpetuating society's place, obedient to Plato and his responsibility perception. And it's true. I live here. I accept to choose my place to live, and I choose to accept here for now. I drive the speed limit, knowing that I am not a dangerous driver, but there are those that are that the law is in place to regulate. I help support that, just by living here. I don't carry a weapon without a permit for the same reason. Most of us aren't dangerous, and just want to live out our lives in peace. But there is always that 2-5% that wants to do the world justice back. Hence the laws. Most of what we do merely conforms to laws set in place by our predecessors, both of this country and of others, as the global society has slowly progressed. I don't want to shake the world. I don't want to change lives. I want to live. I want to love. I want to move forward. I don't like looking back. I like figuring out how things went sour, where they hit the bump, so I can read the river better downstream. Sometimes boulders are submersed. Sometimes they are jutting out. Sometimes the way the riverbed is shaped dictates the currents, and can either take you straight into a cliff wall, or can let you ease around chicanes effortlessly.

I like the river-rafting analogy I've stumbled upon. I'm going to keep with this.

For the past four years, my life has been a fog. It has been one white-water rush to another to another to another to another, and they've all started to blend together. I have memories of things I've forgotten to tell those closest to me. I have things I remember that I forget that I tell, and repeat myself over and over again, apparently verbatim, because people start nodding their head at the first sentence of my recollections. lol I won't divulge in those this blog, but I will say that there is a lot that I forgot I did. Nothing really bad, nothing really horrible, but still, it has shaped what I do to some degree, and it is difficult to know why I respond to this particular instance emotionally instead of logically, when I have no frame of reference to be emotional about it. Then there are the most vivid images and tangible memories that I could ever hope for; some bad, most great. I enjoy reliving the great ones, even if it's alone sometimes.
Me and my river-buddy are going down river. Her boat getts moored on a boulder on the first rapid as I catch a slipstream, trying to shoot the narrow. Risky, but a mostly straight shot. Tuck and lean. As I'm being rushed downstream, I glance a submerged rock and am tipped over at the first rapid. My kayak is over me, and I'm trying to use the current to my favor and do a paddless roll to reestablish center. It's not until after the second set of rapids that I'm successful, and I'm exhausted from the effort. I don't have a paddle anymore, but I'm ok. Now I have to use my hands. I want to get out of the boat, and portage around the next set of rapids. But it's a canyon with enclosing vertical walls on both sides. I'm stuck. I can't go upstream; current's too fast. Downstream faster means death. So I slow as best I can, looking to maybe breach on a partially submerged rock for a spell.
i find one at the top of the next series of rapids, and keep the boat steady. This rapid will probably destroy what I have left, and if so, i don't have a boat, and I'm stuck swimming class 5 rapids. That's not an option. Not in these frigid waters, and not with the water levels where they are. Where the hell is my river buddy? Did she make it down?
As I sit and wait, trying to figure out where to aim to where I have the best chance to survive, here she comes. She's a little shaken, no worse for the wear, it appears, though. I ask her for help, and she tentatively says ok. She just sits to the side of me, moored on the same rock, staring at the rapids below. We can't go back. We can't go up and out, unless we scale 90 degree walls. We can't stay here because we don't have enough food. We have to move forward. This is the toss. How to both make it down. She doesn't have another paddle. I don't have another way. This could kill me, but I've got to do it. I tell her i love her, and think about telling her that if I don't make it out, name a city after me, hell, I dunno, just to make her laugh. I don't say that. I just say 'I love you. Watch me down. Learn the current. Make it through.' Then, i look at it, zone out, and say 'fuck it' and saddle into the current. It's quick, it's crazy, I get airborne once, flipped upside down once, roll back over, and somehow make it through. My head is bleeding, but I'm not sure from what. This water is cold, i've already hit my head on fifty things so far, and we're only three sets of rapids down. I find a rock, and hand-paddle myself onto it and wait. And wait. And Wait. And I start to worry. An hour later she comes down, dry, not submersed. Ran it perfectly.
It's mild currents for the next mile or so now. We go along the river, don't talk about what kept her. I ask repeatedly, and she just gets frustrated with my questions, but won't answer them, keeping everything to herself. Eventually, this will pose a huge problem. I continue rolls to stop the bleeding of my head.
We're to the 4th set, now. She is loosened up a bit, or at least acts like it. She's goofing around and laughing again. There is a rapid coming up that has two paths, very near. One on the left, one on the right. The left is deep, mild, and relatively clear. The right is shallower, looks faster, and doesn't bend around the wall, but goes straight forward. I'm exhausted. I'm taking the left route. She feels adventurous again. She takes the right route.
the current is wide on my side of the river, and I am able to float freely without fear of collision. My head isn't bleeding anymore. I turn my boat around and look back to see how she's doing. She's dragging bottom. The river's high enough, those are not normal rapids. They're normally a small shoals to beach and rest on. Now, they're separated from the rest of the stream by a partition in the water where the river normally runs on the other side of. Small snag after small snag, she gets frustrated. "Stupid rock. Stupid rock. Stupid rock. Stupid rock. Stupid rock. Stupid rock." I find it somewhat funny in a compassionate way, and shout "Having a difficult time of it!?" She replies, "Shut UP!" jokingly. I laugh. She eventually gets through them. She complains, "I don't like the way they look."
"Why's that?"
"Because they're stupid. that's why."
"That's not a very valid reason." I laugh back.
"Well, that's why. They're stupid."
"Why are they stupid?"
"Because." she smiles playfully.
"no, why? why are the rocks stupid?" I play back.
"Because they kept my boat from going like it should!" Genuine frustration starts to creep into her face. I decide to try and console her.
"No, they were just being rocks."
"But they didn't have to be so difficult." now she's veritably frustrated again.
"They weren't doing anything other than what they always do. You chose to take that path. It wasn't their fault. Don't be mad at them. Just avoid them in the future. You know what that kind of water looks like, now."
"Yeah, I know...."
We continue on. More rapids. more snares. There were two rapids where she did take the faster current early on, and enjoyed it, and relaxed, and because she got it right that way and had fun, she'd go right back to the rocks on the next few sets of rapids. More shoals. More slow goings. Eventually she just got stuck on getting stuck. I'm getting good at reading the currents to navigate, and can almost do it on the fly without studying the river. She keeps taking shallow paths just to prove she can do it her way. I try to tell her where the current is, so I don't have to wait for her and freeze keeping upright with my hand-paddles. Exhaustion is starting to set in for me, my shoulders are starting to cramp, and I'm not anywhere near a resting point yet. She's still cussing out the rapids and the rocks. It's no longer playful. She gets through them finally.
"You know," I tell her, "if they looked a certain way, and handled a certain way three and four times before, they're going to be the same thing the next time you see them, too."
"Shut up." she's not playful now.
"Look, I'm not trying to keep you from doing what you want to do. But what you're doing isn't moving forward. You're still stuck on the fact that it didn't work once. Why keep trying to prove that it's going to work this next time?"
"Because it's what I want to do!" pissed
"Why do you want to keep doing the same damn thing?!" confused
"Because I want to! It's MY life. I'M running this river. I can do it how I want to."
"Yeah, but you're not the only one who's on this team. I don't have a paddle. I'm cold. My body's shaking. I'm cramping, and we're only half way down. We could be 3/4 the way by now."
"Shut up."
"Look, I'm sorry about your rapids, but just give the damn things up. It's hurting me. Literally. Just give the fucking things up. OK?"
"Shut UP!"
"No. Listen: Get your head to quit talking, stop being so fucking proud and stubborn, and just LISTEN. IT. Won't. Work. Like. This. You think you can do it? you're right. You CAN do it. BUT. It takes longer and more effort than you want it to, and will every single fucking time. Give me one-hundred shoals, and they will snag you every time. It's a 100% success ratio you're betting against, hoping there's a one-or-two-tenth percent that's overlooked. It's not. Boat with 2-4 inches of water WILL GET CAUGHT. It's not worth this pain for you to prove something wrong that can't be proven wrong right now. You're sacrificing ME to prove yourself superior on something that doesn't even matter! Get me a paddle and a wetsuit that's not torn up, and I'll be happy to run them with you. but for right now, help me out, ok?"
She just stares at the nose of her boat, angry, and reluctant. A little further down the river, as she starts to loosen up a bit after a long time of silence, I try to console her.
"We just need another inch or two of water, and you'd be able to rock those shoals."
"I know! Stupid water! Stupid rocks! Why doesn't anything go like I want it?!"
Next set of rapids with shoals, same thing. She takes the shoals, determined to prove them wrong. My head is bleeding again, and I'm starting to feel dizzy. I tell her I need to just get out of here, or I will not be able to recover. She doesn't respond, and just keeps cussing out the damn shoals, pushing with her paddle. I ask her if she hears me.
"I'll be right there!"
"I need to leave now. i don't think I can do this much longer."
"I said I'll be right there!"
"Can you breach the barrier now, and just come on?"
"No!"
"Why not?"
"Because I can't!"
"I don't know how much I've got left to give! Will you just give up the shoals already? Let's GO! Before I DROWN!"
"SHUT UP!"
OK. She hears me, but she chooses not to listen. Not my problem. I'll apologize on the other end of the river, if I'm alive, and if she ever gets there. My fingers and hands are numb. My skin is pastey and veiney. I feel very sick. I also feel very dizzy and high. I've got to make sure I survive first. She's not in any real danger. She's going to keep taking Grandma rapids until she gets to the bottom, frustrated and spent. Make sure I live. that's priority. i don't really know why, but it is. Survivalism at its worst.
I rip down the next few rapids. My dizziness is starting to affect my depth perception, and sense of timing. I start smashing into rocks again, fighting to keep my wits about me. At some point, I think I'm actually swimming inverted moving forward. disorientation is the only thing I recognize. Water and air are the same to me now. I'm struggling to keep my fear from getting the best of me.
The walls are slanting back, now. Trees become visible again. Finally a beach shows up. I aim and let my boat crash into the beach, and I flop out, arms limp and hands numb. I notice that I can only know what they're doing by looking at them. I have no sense of placement. I have no feeling in my arms, either. I have a good sized gash on my forearm from the crash and rocks, but don't feel anything at all.
There is a fire-pit left from previous campers, and a box of matches there. I nearly cry with hope. I find some brush, pile it up, and light the fire. I take off my cold wetsuit, and sit by the fire, warming myself, desperately trying to think of ways to stop the bleeding. My wetsuit is torn, and useless anyway. I tear it apart, and make a bandage for my arm and for my head. My arm starts to get slightly sore. Good. Still dizzy as hell, but good. I check my pulse, and I can't tell what my heartbeat is. I look down at my chest to see it beat and count. It looks like something's inside my chest stamping and kicking rapidly to get out. Good. Possible stroke, but good. Not from excessive bloodloss, just exhaustion. Lay down. Relax. Sleep. Rest. The fire is nice and warm. I put a log or two on it, and thank the merciness of the previous campers to leave these matches. What freak luck.
I am woken hours later to her sitting with a cover over her shoulders, face staring at the fire, angry, brooding, out of it. I am reminded my pack was lost in the first rapid. I am also reminded I have on nothing. This fire is awesome.
"You left me."
I sit up surprised. My head is pissed at me, and so is my body. I put another couple of logs and stoke the flames a bit.
"I had to. I couldn't keep that up. What was I supposed to do?"
"I told you I was coming."
"You weren't coming. You were fighting."
"I should have told you not to go."
"No, you should have come when you could."
"But. You. Left. Me."
"No. I. Didn't."
"You took off down that river without looking back. I watched you go down that river, and I couldn't take it. You left me! You left me there all by myself. What was I supposed to do?"
"Look. I told you what was happening. I told you how I was. I told you the situation. I told you what needed to happen. You told me to shut up, and you were coming. I believed you because I had no other choice. I couldn't test you. I shouldn't have to test you. You're supposed to help me down this river, and I you. It's not a 'I get to make it down grandma shoals because I want to' trip. It can be if it's not emergent, but right now, it's kinda crucial I get out of here. I have no wet suit, these waters are 45 degrees and below, I have no paddle, and I have no way out but down to the end. Want to help a bit, instead of bitching about how I didn't wait for you to get to the end of those shoals? Hours later?"
"I just sat there. I couldn't believe you left me."
"For the love of fucking christ, I didn't leave YOU! I left a bad situation! I left to HEAL! I was just about DEAD. And if I'M dead, you've got a better chance of it, too. You were just gonna take Grandma rapids down all day, anyway. You can't drown in those if you tried. I wasn't leaving you! I left because I had to!"
"But you still left!"
"FINE! I LEFT YOU! FUCK IT! I REALLY WILL LEAVE, IF THAT WILL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT, SINCE YOU WANT TO SO FUCKING BADLY! GET OVER YOURSELF!! SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!"
"You're right. I need to do this right. Wait right here."
She gets up, takes her covers, walks to her boat, packs it up. I ask her to let me have her covers. She screams at me that I'm trying to keep her from doing what she wants. Fine, keep the fucking covers. She gets in, and paddles off, and doesn't look back. Frustrated and exhausted, I sleep for another couple of hours to rest and regain strength. She makes it down the shoals the way she wants to, without me there. She left the campsite so that she could do what she wanted how she wanted without my input or need. She wasn't coming back. She never wanted to. She went into shoals that were shallower than before, almost like they planned to be that way. Mother Nature has a way of being subversive that way. Is it because I yelled at her? No. All I told her was what she was teling me back. I spent a good hour trying to convince her it wasn't what she was saying it was. I need help, still, but now there's NO shot in hell of getting it. Stupid fucking shoals. Even I'M starting to hate them, now. Or maybe it's the ego that refuses to be tamed so far. I've really got to be careful now. I don't have anyone backing me up. If I tip, or if I submerge, I'm practically dead. Keep it stoney, man. Keep it fresh. Don't do dumb.
Can't walk. Too steep, too far. Weeks that way, not days. Do better by river. Do or die.
Fuck it.



that is a metaphorical representation of the past 4 years according to the Gospel of Avery. Rough and bumpy? Smooth and flowing? What do I prefer? I do enjoy an adrenaline rush, but just because the water's white doesn't mean it's rapid. Just because the water's smooth doesn't mean it's slow. Every rapid has its own idiosyncracies, and its on consistencies it keeps.
If you go fast all the time, you lose track of what Slow means. The same holds true in the reverse, and the thrill of the contrast is lost. So, to that, balance is necessary. She's learned balance, but refuses to let me see it. I'm seeking for a place to slow down. she is robbed at gunpoint, and only calls me the day after, after she's called and talked with everyone else, and says she does that because I'm her husband. She says she's going to call at a certain time yesterday. Well, it's two days later, no call. Again. I have a show 3 days offset from a David Cook show. i'm playing the city. He's playing a venue. If i had $100, I'd put it on her ditching her 'husbands' show and going to his. She already ditched our anniversary and my other show for him. And she takes her rings off at his shows, now. I'm still trying to absorb that one. And she's still telling me to shut up. It's just another rock in the shoal. It's part of the path she's chosen. It's not the circumstance that's to blame, it's the path. She won't see this, though. The 'Us' is a separate issue, however. This is about me right now. Because I'm selfish, and stupid, just like many other bloggers out there. i wish it weren't so hard to separate her from me. Again, separate complaints. Don't get me wrong. i love her. I dont' think she remembers me now, though.
I am done here. I have, in 1.5 years, worked about 3.2 years worth of labor at 1000 hours per year AVG. The last 7 weeks have been 100hr+ weeks. I am salary, so it doesn't count, but it's insane. I have given my left nut for this job, all because I believed in the vision of it. I'm a sucker for a cause. So shoot me. Go read your letter from the kid in Tanzania you decided to sponsor through that TV ad if you don't like it.
I want to slow down. Actually, I want to stop. I truly want to end it all, but not forever. Just a couple of years. I am broken. I am frayed. I am fragile. I am naked. I am cold. I am raw. I am bleeding still. I am piecework.
i am exhausted.
this week: 92 hours walking into Saturday night. It's an 8 hours shift, this time. And I still have editing to do. This has been composed while rendering video out. Shitting you, right? Nope. what do I do?

In my heart of hearts, I want to skip this country, go to Jamaica, or the Bahamas, or British Virgin Islands, find a job as a paper boy or as a cook or grocery store attendant, work 6-8 hours per day from morning to noon, then go chill on the beach for the rest of the day. No TV, no PS3, no laptop, no cell phone, no computer games, nothing but rum, beer, beach, enough to pay the rent, enough left over to eat, and my baby. THAT is perfect harmony to me. Hell, it'd be perfect if we had a sailboat, 25-28 feet, and just cruise from island to island and get a job at each one for a period of time until we decided we were done. Thunderstorms again. Rain showers. Ocean hum. Warm breezes. Think she'd go? Doubt it. Has to have civilization. Keep up on her shows. go to her concerts. She wants where she lives to have constant concerts all the time. I just want to stop and rest for a year or two. I'm so very tired.

So there it is. now tell me how 'It's your life' is supposed to help me live that dream? Old people are odd. But, they are why I am who I am today. literally. Snares, rocks, shoals will come up. Either get stuck in them, or take the path around them. sometimes you get stuck in them without meaning to. Then it's important to get through them.

Do with Love and Kindness to anyone you meet. Thanks for reading.

regards,

Avery