Watercooler 0: Nothing Is A Problem For Me

I think so :-)

JB, we had already been talking on the phone a lot over the past week or so, so we knew enough about each other already to have a fair amount to talk about. But that only works with a few people, I think.

That's the thing I forogt abotu dating - the pressure to have fun and be likeable/witty/etc. I'm an easy going guy, I don't need pressure!

Pretty much shot the rest of the evening for me - burned in shame for about 30 minutes and then left.

http://www.replieswanted.com/things-to-talk-about-on-a-date.htm

which all seems far too clinical for me, but I guess I'm after a clinical solution, so maybe I do need to go down the NLP route.

She had threatened to bring a crib sheet of conversational topics for me!

But it's like... the only feeling in the world that actually means anything to me, is that sense of getting onstage and putting in a performance where you *REALLY FEEL IT*. That's better than sex, it's better than love, it's better than drugs, it's better than anything.

I have been phoning it in with this band for so long, going through the motions, wondering why I do it. And suddenly, last night, as I looked out in the audience and saw his face, it's like every stupid, trite cliche in the songs suddenly meant something again. I think that's what made the gig so good, and yeah, it was something special last night.

I don't get to have relationships or any of that crap, but this is what I *do* get - the ability to write songs and perform them. This is the only thing that has ever meant anything to me.

And it's like, he gave me that back last night.

How do you say that to someone, without sounding like a complete mentalist? I think I was talking drunken bollocks about him being my muse or something. But it's like... "I look at you, and I hear music!" How can you put something like that into words? Just hope a fellow musician understands?

It's not sexual, it's not like wanting to get with him or anything like that. I feel kinda like an emotional vampire, because I just want him to tell me stories about his life and put them to music.

In other news, tonight, I am going on a photoshoot. As one of the models.

Having ones photo taken is awful. I hope it's not too terrible. ;-)

You're going modelling? Do report back with stories about prima donnas. I wouldn't mind trying that kind of thing, but I don't think my ego would be able to take it. And besides, my eyes invariably turn out like the eyes of a killer (see my MSF photo).

Fuck that. I'm happy for once, and I'm going to enjoy it. I'm in the best band in the world.

Even pain can make you feel like you're alive, sometimes.

(the other thing with both self-harming and masochism is that the normal response to physical pain gives you a kind of natural high - but also in some people a very bad comedown a day or two later)

((xpost))

I suppose it's terrible, but the best thing about this is the sense of... *rightness*. I'm in love with a boy I barely know and can never have, and that's the way it should be.

I wouldn't mind having my photo taken all day if I was just having my photo snapped to capture my day-to-day going ons, but I would imagine modelling being more hard work than that.

ha ha reminds me of that Black Books episode with the Greek photographer when Manny runs away. If there are any Japanese businessmen hanging round, run away quickly.

I'm not sure the photos will be suitable for posting here, though."

Oh, those kind of photos! Well, just pixilate anything unsavoury, I'm still intrigued!

I'm with you about the familiarity of being in love with someone you can't have being comforting. It's liek you were saying with depression being a cosy safety blanket you can wrap round yourself - endless crushes like that are exactly the same. And quite cool, in a way.

What KIND of funny handshake? Or would the bar stop being cool if you told the likes of ME?

Was that you, Gooblar? (Are you awake yet?)

I don't know. I'm still trying to work out whether I believe it or not. I'm not sure I was even talking about my plainness vs. the prettiness of the girl PBW went home with - or if I was talking about mine own shallowness (visual motivation? aesthetic motivation?)

PBW is totally right to be suspicious of my motivations - like he said, I don't know him, not at all. I've based my entire views of him on the observation that he *looks* like a bruised angel. It's all projection. But what things look like (sound like, the prettiness, aesthetically, of them) is really all that matters to me. As an artist, at least.

It was truly a great gig last night, everything sounded (after the first song) all sparkly and right-on and together and world-conquering.

Not feeling too rough today, due to lots of water imbibement.

But continuing on from the discussion last night, it is important, because it's about getting A Look and Working It. Which is sometimes more important than actually having the right bone structure.

I get upset because I cannot make my Self a work of art the way I've made everything else in my life (my flat, my songs) a work of art.

Oh, I don't know. I'll stop thinking about this, and go back to muddling along with my effects patches and Victorian novels.

Who'd get more excited, NME, Hello or Both the same?

Fixed.

I get upset because I cannot make my Self a work of art the way I've made everything else in my life (my flat, my songs) a work of art.

Ah, but you have! OK, so it may not be a work of art you're happy with at the moment, but that just means it's not finished yet, which is fine of course (whose is finished?).

(All of this is meant to be complimentary, but I'm worried it might not come off like that. My brane is broken.)

See, JB, that is the problem. I kinda want to hang onto that precious image of him, because I suspect *that* is my muse.

Problem is, the more you get to know someone, the harder it is to keep the mental image of them. Maybe he'd become someone to talk with down the pub about guitar pedals and why Country is good and Rock is good but Country Rock is BAD. But it's like... do I really *want* that, or do I want the Bruised Angel Muse?

This is why I don't want a relationship with him, or to sleep with him - or maybe even to hang out with him after gigs - because that kind of mental image doesn't survive such commonplace wear and tear.

Getting a Look is VERY important. Our self-esteem is based upon people thinking we're looking good, so making sure that box is ticked has to be a major plus. Unless your self-esteem is based on something not reliant on other people, in which case it's less of a priority.

(and since you know what you want out of the fella [just to be the container for a muse and nothing else] then I REALLY don't see the problem. Esp. if you don't want to rip his clothes off/ chat over a handshake/ talk about country rock pedals. When it gets to this stage it's like crushing on a celeb, which is certainly no bad thing.)

I know that what I want is unrealistic and unattainable. But that doesn't stop me from wanting it.

I fucked up the Great Lost Love Of My Life over this bullshit. That my idea of Being In Love doesn't survive the daily mundane bullshit.

And then turn it into something pretty, and call that justification.

Eh, speak for yourself there, man.

But I'm not gonna get that. I'm gonna get snatched awkward conversations in the pub when there's no one more interesting for him to get in his urgent drunken conversations with, and watch him chatting up girls that are doing the same things I was doing 10, 15 years ago.

So I'd rather have nothing except an empty vessel, to fill up with my dreams and inspirations. Because that's what I get, oh-oh-oh, that's what I get.