I’m becoming more and more aware that I end up censoring things I want to write or comment on. That’s incredibly disappointing when it seems like I have more to say than ever. This isn’t solely related to this blog – it’s across all of my social networks too.

I know it’s entirely out of a desire of being able to get my thoughts out anonymously without thinking about what my friends think. That’s fucking pathetic but unfortunately true. I tend to tell myself that I don’t really care what other people think. I’m pretty firm in my ideologies but I know for a fact that I would write less inhibited if people didn’t associate who’s writing these words with who I am when we’re hanging out.

It’s a conflicting issue — on one hand you’d probably get a better idea of who I am and how I think by reading a few posts around here but it’s come to a point where I don’t feel like sharing because unfortunately this text can only convey a message or feeling to such an extent.

I’m also not sure that I like the link to the past that these posts have created. I am not ashamed of past-tense me but I’m not entirely that person anymore either and the only way I feel able to show that is to cut ties in ways that don’t make any sense at all.

I guess most of all I feel jaded. Not sad, but disappointed in realizing that so much that I’ve cared about politically, musically, and socially really only ever mattered to me. I’m not winning anyone over. Lately I’m not even engaging in any interesting discussion.

This may all have to do with transparency and ease of sharing online anymore. I’ve gone from wanting throw out every little emotional twinge to the wind via this blog to wanting to compartmentalize what, how, and with who I share information.

I guess I’m stoked to now just push a photo or video to my friends and family on a smaller scale via Facebook rather than write a page about why I love a new album from such-and-such band.

Postblink has been really cool. I opened up a dialog with people. Nothing will ever be as straight-up random to me as when I was at Warped Tour in Minnesota a few years ago and a couple of bloggers who read my rants recognized me. I started this blogging thing as an experimentation to teach myself a little bit about web development and greater goals spawned forth. I don’t know if I’ll ever reach 10% of what came to mind but it’s been fun nonetheless.

I’m still brainstorming what I want to do here. I’ve got no intentions of closing up shop, so to speak, but it’s obviously been on hold for a bit. I guess this post doesn’t make a lot of sense. It’s kind of a “I’m still here but I have no idea why” sentiment. That’s just kind of where I am with life right now. Damn that sounds significantly more depressing than I mean it to – see what I mean with text only taking me so far? Fuck it. Until next time!

This is our state motto and, believe it or not, Iowa has a pretty solid track record of living up to it. We removed racial barriers in relation to marriage a hundred years before the Supreme Court removed such barriers nationwide. We moved to end segregation in education eighty-five years prior to the Court’s ruling on Brown v. the Board of Education. The University of Iowa was the first public university to admit men and women equally starting in 1847 and Tinker v. Des Moines would affirm a student’s right to political protest in public schools in 1969.

And on April 3RD, 2009 Iowa would become the third state in the United States to allow same-sex marriage.

Fast forward to next Monday. A hate-speech spewing group of people will be visiting our state to protest the production of The Laramie Project by the University of Northern Iowa. The play, which consists of interviews and observations conducted in the wake of the 1998 murder of Matthew Sheppard, with and of his community, is often used as a teaching tool to promote acceptance and prevent prejudice. Ironically enough, the group is actually mentioned in the play.

I, however, refuse to write the name of the organization.

Over the last couple weeks I have seen multiple people across social networks mentioning counter-protests of the hate group. I have received event invitations to participate in counters. I have read more and more criticisms of the group and I have seen acceptance and open-mindedness on the raise.

And while I forever support your right to protest and while I’m impressed and happy to see our state live up to an ever-more progressive stance, I can’t help but question what a counter-protest will accomplish.

This group feeds on media attention. They depend on it to continue existing. They crawl from location to location in hopes of local media exposure. They shout horrific obscenities and taunt those around them. They pray someone will harass or physically attack one of their members — they rely on the civil suit money to continue promoting their agenda.

I would advise another solution. Attend the play if you can. Support the art community.

And ignore the hate group.

Don’t give them any attention. Don’t waste your time thinking about witty signs or shirt designs. Don’t give them another thought.

Or show up and turn your back to the group. Don’t make a huge spectacle of the night. These people are petty. They are a distraction and their only goal is to take away from what the night’s focus should be on, which is equality and social tolerance.

In the past large communities have banded together in counter-protest and driven members of the organization away with just the power of their voices. You can find cases of this yourself because they are well-documented on the web — on youtube, blogs, and wikipedia. And that’s just what the group wants. More exposure. Even if you win, you lose.

Everyone loses until these people are long forgotten.

It’s just a thought…

More information about UNI’s production of The Laramie Project, including ticket prices, can be found here.

Lines are just lines until someone draws the curtain, calls out “Action!”, or lays down the recording arm. If the lines are not lived then they die as empty words scribbled in a notebook.

At the same time I will remain optimistic that someone is in fact wasting their time on my thoughts. I occasionally have a good one from time to time. And I will continue writing unabashedly.

After failing out of high school my senior year, my life fell apart. It was a stupid, selfish period of my life and I tried to believe I didn’t care who I hurt. It took a lot of lying to myself to convince myself that I didn’t care. More than most could possibly imagine. And I drank. For some reason the three people I remained closest to felt like making up lost time and drank heavily, and I joined right in. There was bonfire after bonfire, apartment after apartment, and country house after country house of drunken shenanigans. I was buying handles of Jack Daniels every time we went out and consuming way more than I needed to. I was a mess and I wasn’t even the worst off.

This lasted the entirety of my summer after graduation. I realized, rather quickly, that this was not for me. I was luckier than some of my friends in that I had developed no dependence on alcohol. I’m not sure it had anything to do with willpower; rather just a lack of interest in the life style. Since that summer I typically drink four or five times a year at most. The birthdays of close friends and the occasional wedding or bachelor party. I don’t get the appeal.

That fall I pulled out of a summer of bad decisions but maintained a depression for probably a year or two afterwards. I was in a shitty place. In the fall of 2007 I decided to move forward with my life. I had to get back into school. I had to try to do something to get out of my rut. And I really wanted to be a writer. That November I registered at the Hawkeye Metro Center in Waterloo to get my G.E.D. I tested out of everything and got top scores. I was extremely motivated and rocketed through as much testing as I could as quick as I could. In hindsight, it was kind of a joke.

I took the entrance test for the local community college and rebooted my education. It rebooted my life at the same time. I tried very hard to forget certain aspects of my life, even probably going a little overboard in my efforts. I was still in a bad place mentally, regardless of my small triumphs to grasp control of my life. I wouldn’t even realize how down I was until the summer of 2009. Those years are all kind of foggy. That’s not how my final teenage years should be remembered. Or perhaps, more appropriately, not remembered. I have blacked out parts of my past, and not with a drink.

It’s an odd feeling to look back on your life and not recognize it as personally identifiable to yourself. Prior to losing control of my life I had strongly believed that I had it all together. Losing control was a very slow process. That gradual transition to the low point in my life, in addition to fooling myself that I was telling small white lies that wouldn’t hurt anyone, cloaked the eventual progression into a very scary state of mind. I’ve written here about it before. I’ve apologized about it before, hoping the apologies would find those that needed to hear them. I was horrific inside. It was a very different me.

I hope I have it all together again but I maintain that hope while knowing how thin the line between having it all together and having my world fall apart is. I no longer dispense “advice” to anyone seeking it as I did prior. I’m not entirely sure my advice is all that great. I will talk to anyone that wants someone to talk to, but my words will always carry a disclaimer. In some ways I’m not as strong as I used to be. In others, I’m far stronger. I’m as optimistic as ever, but more cautious. And I’m filled with tenfold the passion. My aspirations are greater than ever. They seem so much closer or easier to obtain than before. You could say I will always dream a fool’s dreams.

But I’d prefer you say it with the understanding that I will never give in.

Lost mementos occasionally find new homes. Keep that in mind and apply it in different areas of your life. It makes letting go easier.

I’ve been writing music oriented articles on Postblink since the site was created. I don’t know if they’re good or bad but they’re my thoughts on what ever happens to be on my play list at the time of the writing. This will continue. Not only will this continue but I’m going to attempt to get more structured pieces together as far reviewing full length releases. This includes an actual rating system. I didn’t do this from the start because I’ve never looked at the site as anything more than an outlet for my thoughts. That’s changing. Judging from the site’s logs, I’m getting hits on albums I’m talking about, new songs, and shows I’ve attended. So I’m going to try being more consistent by applying the rating system. I’m still going to ramble on with my pointless thoughts — they’ll just be accompanied by stars or hearts or bunnies. Who knows?

I’ve also been writing a lot of personal articles. My life, my thoughts, my aspirations of music. This will also continue but with an exception. I’m not going to talk about politics anymore. It’s really fucking annoying — no, not what I have to say. I’m always brilliant, so screw you. It’s just annoying to keep defending a tired cause. Okay, and maybe I was a little annoying. I guess I feel a little jaded on the whole political spectrum. Left-to-right, it’s all a bunch of bullshit. I have my thoughts, my ideals. I have my beliefs and they are strong. I’m just not into talking about them on a largely public medium anymore. If you want to chat one-on-one with me about it, you know where to find me.

For a while I had intentions of having multiple authors on the site. It didn’t work out so well. The group I picked out either didn’t maintain an interest in writing or moved on to create their own blogs. That’s fine, and I’d even encourage it. What it means, and I’ve been thinking about this for a while, is that the site once again becomes more identified with me. That’s why I’ve gone back to writing longer, more personal articles over the last six months. Guest articles will always be welcome however.

I guess I don’t really have anything else to add. It’s cold in Iowa. Single digits cold. That’s not much of a conclusion but I’ll leave you with it anyways.

Let’s start out with my lost tickets. On December 8TH I bought two tickets from Ticketmaster. Those tickets never showed up. This was a first for me. I’ve always ordered and had my tickets delivered from Ticketmaster via USPS with no problems. After a couple phone calls and email exchanges I finally got my tickets changed to TicketFast so I could just print them out. Alright, obstacle one down.

Next up? The weather. This is only the second time I’ve ever assembled a group for a show in the winter, the first being The Matches opening for +44 at the same venue. There are good reasons to avoid winter shows, including but not limited to ice, snow, freezing rain, frigid temperatures, long lines in frigid temperatures, getting to the venue in the madness, and expensive coat-checks in which you gamble even getting your jacket back. So checking the weather for both Iowa and Minnesota became a twice-daily ritual. Again, we lucked out. Temperatures stayed above freezing. It was wet outside but not dangerous. Good news.

So we all committed to going. We meet up, we get on the road and we head west towards a town just off I35 to pick up another friend. A hour and a half later we arrive at a truck stop. Someone puts down a window. Said window doesn’t go back up. We try to guide the window up. The window falls off the tracking and is down for the count. Oh shit. It’s raining. It’s 35 degrees. What the hell do we do now? We procure duct tape and a garbage bag from the friendly truck stop. Doesn’t work. Fails catastrophically, actually, shortly after we’re back on the road. We search for another gas station and the second group following us saves the day with a towel. I kid you not, one of them gets out of the car and hands us a towel. Our ghetto cruiser officially becomes white trash.

We can make this work. So we’re off again, we spend a little more time on the road and then as we approach the cities we begin to get stuff ready. Some of us take a quick glance at our tickets to make sure they’re there. They are not. Someone is officially down one ticket. This is also a first. We often, believe it or not, have had extra tickets for shows. We’ve always had everyone covered one way or another. But we continue on. I’m confident things will some how work out. A little stressed, but confident.

We find a parking ramp a block away from the venue and park four floors up. Then we make our way to the elevator lobby and try attempt number one to fix the ticket fiasco, which is having the person that forgot their tickets call Ticketmaster to see if they can get the order changed to will-call. We’ve done this before, it’s a pretty simple process, and I’m certain it’ll work. It does not. After spending a huge chunk of time on hold, confirming he is who he says he is, and providing order numbers (his receipt, unlike his tickets, was still in the otherwise empty envelope), the jackass at Ticketmaster couldn’t press a few keys to assist someone who just traveled a few hours out of state. Awesome. I remain optimistic, though my confidence is admittedly shaken up.

We head towards the Hard Rock across the street from First-Avenue to grab some dinner before the show and avoid the growing line. People who stand in lines are suckers. I should know, I’ve frequently stood in lines. Once you’re inside a venue, you can make your way through the crowd to just about anywhere you want, but even then you’ll most likely bail on your awesome front-row, center spot when the crowd attempts to kill you. The energy will always be awesome, but it’s only tolerable for so long.

Two of our party split up to see if they can get a hold of a manager at the club, an unlikely chance at best. They do come across a couple of empathetic doormen who tell them they have a 50/50 chance of working with the venue and Ticketmaster in conjunction to get the ticket order changed, but they’ll have to come back after the doors open. They meet back up with us somewhat uplifted. 50/50 is better than 0/100.

We head to the venue slightly after the entire line has shuffled in. We wait inside the door while the last member of our group tries to reason with the front desk. He has his receipts and identification. The lady working the desk finally says he can purchase another ticket to get in. Hey — out another $18.50, but at least he gets in, right?

But no. Because this is both the least and most lucky day for a concert, it’s even better. Another lady taking tickets pulls him aside before he has a chance to buy anything, stamps his hand, and he gets in without any physical ticket what-so-ever. Thank you random stranger.

So in the end we caught awesome sets by bands I hadn’t been into (The Swellers, This Providence, and Set Your Goals) and a crazy kick off for Motion City Soundtrack’s tour in support of their new album My Dinosaur Life. MCS played stuff from all four of their full-lengths and even an earlier track from one of their first EPs.

And that stupid window? It came up on the ride home. Because everything works out in the end.

Motion City Soundtrack Set

Worker Bee
My Favorite Accident
Everything is alright
Delerium
Last night
Cambridge
Shiver
Disappear
Time Turned Fragile
Motherfucker
This is for real
Capital H
A Lifeless Ordinary
Make Out Kids
Her Words Destroyed My Planet
L.G. FUAD

Encore:
Even If It Kills Me
Throwdown
The Future Freaks Me Out

This is the question that’s been on my mind recently. A question probably sparked last week after watching coverage of the Haiti crisis. The remarkable thing about the natural disaster was how many American lives were thrown into chaos so far from home. Last Friday I posted a link on my Facebook to a page displaying information on how and where people could donate to relief efforts. The further that information spreads, the better. In our advanced society we have the ability to support charities that save lives with a few key presses. I donated $10 via text to the Red Cross in less than a minute. No paperwork. No credit card authorization. It’s just added to my phone bill at the end of the month. I also gave $10 through Paypal to the Save the Children fund.

I have an old high school friend who keeps a blog that I would guess he would argue frequently discusses Christianity. I beg to differ. I think the majority of what he writes about is acceptance. Acceptance through forgiveness. Acceptance through love. Acceptance through open-mindedness. I think he might argue that these are all aspects of Christianity. I would argue that Christianity is an aspect of them. I enjoy arguing with this friend. In the end I think we usually come to the same or similar conclusions. I believe what defines a good person is continued faith that things will work out. I’ve come to learn that accepting the hand we’re dealt is also an important factor. That’s not to say we can’t change or learn from the hand we’re dealt. Quite the opposite.

A long time ago I was a very forgiving person. I was the guy everyone came to with their problems. Today that’s not quite as much the case. When I flunked out of high school there was a period of time before snapping back into reality and getting my life back on track where I was a huge dick. I didn’t see it then but I’ve since come to realize that I was in a pretty fucked up state of mind. No drugs. No alcohol. Just a really pathetic depression. I tricked and lied to my family and closest friends. I didn’t go out much. I stopped playing music. I stopped playing music with some of the best guys I know. I told everyone I knew I was fine. Fooled people I shared a roof with. After years of solidifying relationships I spent two years, starting early my senior year of high school, knocking down the walls. I did it without thinking. I did it subconsciously.

I did not mean to do it. I would not have let myself continue what I was doing had I known it was happening at the time.

I’ve only started apologizing recently, the situation becoming clearer as I distance myself from it through time. Discussing it with family and approaching my friends and explaining it to them individually. It’s a really weird experience to hear their thoughts on it. I realized that I needed to talk to my friends about where I had been mentally after bringing it up to one of them casually one day. After I finished explaining he told me me that our group of friends had literally had points in time where they said things like “I wish Luke was here.” It’s both incredibly uplifting and horribly heartbreaking to hear those words from a friend. I didn’t think I had low self-esteem, but knowing that I had left people hanging so much that they came to that kind of conclusion really put things in perspective for me.

And then, a few weeks after that encounter, I told one of my best friends and he told me he had realized something was up but never really brought it up. He seemed pretty upset about it and I understood his position because I’ve been there before. And no matter how much you tell that person they couldn’t have changed anything and that you’d have just gamed them like everyone else, they still think they should have done something more. But it’s not anyone’s fault. It played out like it did. We have to accept the hand that was dealt. We have to have faith that things will stay better.

Around four years later I am a different person than I was then. I’m rebuilding the bonds I busted. I’m in a much better mindset. I’m the dependable person I was before everything turned to shit and I’m working to show that to those around me without throwing it in their faces.

And I am writing again. I used to think people could be my muse. Then I thought it was conflict. But that’s all bullshit. Life is my muse and too much of any one thing can throw it horribly off balance and make for a terrible script. It takes equal parts faith in the future and accepting the present. Otherwise you’re just an asshole, a joker, a fool, or a crybaby.

This weekend, as I’ve mentioned in other posts, some friends and I are going hit up Motion City Soundtrack’s show at First-Avenue  in Minneapolis. Somehow I tend to get put in charge of organizing and orchestrating these trips, but that’s okay by me. It’s easier for me to shoulder the responsibility. Right now I’m just hoping that the weather doesn’t destroy it, because I could use a get away.

And hey, if you think I should have talked to you about this one-on-one, approach me about it. It’s impacted friendships with pretty much anyone I knew at the time and I don’t mind talking it through. And I apologize ahead of time.

1. blink-182 – Feeling This
2. Frightened Rabbit – The Twist
3. blink-182 – I Miss You
4. The Spill Canvas – Lullaby
5. Matt & Kim – Daylight
6. Motion City Soundtrack – Hold Me Down
7. Motion City Soundtrack – Last Night
8. blink-182 – Stockholm Syndrome
9. blink-182 – Down
10. Phoenix – 1901
    

• Most listened to artists…

1. Motion City Soundtrack
2. blink-182
3. Death Cab for Cutie
4. Saves the Day
5. Dashboard Confessional
6. Angels & Airwaves
7. Dave Matthews Band
8. Say Anything
9. The Get Up Kids
10. The Format

• Most listened to albums…

1. blink-182 – Self-titled
2. Motion City Soundtrack – Even If It Kills Me
3. Frightened Rabbit – The Midnight Organ Fight
4. Matt & Kim – Grand
5. Motion City Soundtrack – I Am The Movie
6. Phoenix – Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix
7. Angels & Airwaves – We Don’t Need To Whisper
8. Bon Iver – For Emma, Forever Ago
9. Motion City Soundtrack – Commit This To Memory
10. blink-182 – Take Off Your Pants & Jacket

• (Right Click, Save As) blink-182 – Remixed (by Carv!) [35.8mb]
  

Happy holidays.