What happened to integrity?

I feel the need to preface what I am about to write (as I do with most of my posts) with a disclaimer. What I am about to write is not an attack on any one entity, person or band. It is merely my opinion about the state of the Pop Punk scene. There is a very good chance that my opinion will differ from yours. This does not mean we can't be friends. This does not mean I hate you. All this is, is a series of observations that lead me to feel the way I do about certain things. I have been an active member of the Pop Punk community for 11 years. What I am about to write is about some things I have noticed in those 11 years. 

Before The Wonder Years released The Upsides, the state of Pop Punk was in a strange place. There was a period of time where the majority of bands we're either catering to the hardcore scene or the pop scene. This is not to say that bands we're not attempting to be Pop Punk bands, they just we're not seeing the success or the attention that was given to pop punk bands before them. For some reason, I don't exactly know why, The Wonder Years changed this. 

When The Wonder Years did release The Upsides, it was as if they took a defibrillator and jump started the heart of the Pop Punk scene. All of a sudden, kids we're very much getting back into Pop Punk. At least that is how it seems. 

The phenomena that The Upsides created needs to qualification. If you are reading this, I am sure you already know what I am talking about. Its like everyone went out and got a "I'm not sad anymore" tattoo, or took a picture of them holding a piece of cardboard that read the same. There was even a company manufacturing bracelets with the slogan on it. It took on a persona much larger than just an album. It became a lifestyle; a mantra. 

Although The Wonder Years helped reboot the Pop Punk scene, they soon became (in my opinion) the scenes greatest liability. In order for a scene to work, many bands need to be apart of it, otherwise we don't have a scene, we have a monopoly.

Lets now juxtapose this with what I will call, for all intents and purposes, the Drive-Thru Era of Pop Punk. If you don't know what I am talking about, I suggest you wikipedia that shit now. Spend the next 3 hours reading about the bands on that label and then come back to this blog.  

Aside from the giants like Blink-182 and Green Day, the bands on Drive-Thru Records dominated the Pop Punk scene. And what was great about them is that each band offered a unique and interesting sound of their own. Bands that really stick out are New Found Glory, The Movielife, Allister, Home Grown, Fenix TX, Something Corporate, The Starting Line, Rx Bandits, Midtown, Senses Fail, Finch, Day at the Fair, Houston Calls, The Early November, Dashboard Confessional, Hidden in Plain View, Hellogoodbye and Halifax. Once again, if you don't know these bands, go look them up. 

These bands offered diversity and flavor to the scene. Chances are if you knew about one of these bands, you were a fan of at least 3 others on the label, and they didn't necessarily had to have been a Pop Punk band. As a whole, they were putting out music that more people could relate to, that had a timeless message and was catchy enough to be on the radio while still preserving the integrity of the scene. The Drive-Thru Era, in my opinion, were the Golden Years of Pop Punk. Not because I like these bands more than the ones that around now (although that is true), but because these bands have longevity. These bands will live on forever in the hearts and minds of the fans that were around when they were popular. Today bands will be remembered for as long as it takes for the next band to release an album that kids can vaguely relate to. 

I feel like there is little to no integrity today. Today it feels like it is less about music and more about who has more reblogs of a picture of themselves wearing a Man Overboard hoodie, eating pizza in one hand and drinking Arnold Palmer in the other. It seems to me that to most kids its about the fashion and the internet. Where as back when Drive-Thru was around, there was no tumblr, so you liked a band for the music. And you liked that band forever. 

When The Wonder Years released The Upsides, it was huge. I couldn't go anywhere without someone talking about it or seeing someone wearing a shirt with Hank the Pigeon on it. Until The Story So Far came out with Under Soil and Dirt. And the cycle repeats. Now I can't escape hearing people rave about that album or wearing The Story So Far merch. 

Please let me make this clear. I am not at all upset that these bands are seeing success. I am a fan of both. The point that I am trying to make clear is that it appears that kids are more caught up in the here and now of the scene and aren't embracing the over all beauty of the culture like everyone did way back when. It kind of sucks to think about it like that, but that is just the way I see things. Today it feels like its about trying to steal another bands thunder. What I would really like to see today is a handful of bands that just feed off of each others momentum and energy, in a big way. 

I can't believe it happened again this year.

This post is coming a little later than I hoped, but the issue, at least to me is still important and is worth mentioning.

2 Thursdays ago, I got out of work at around 2AM and I don't know why, but I felt like going to a bar. I have never been too fond of bars, I'd much rather drink at home or a friends house, but at 2AM I guess I decided it would be easier to just sack up and go to a bar. I went to Benchwarmers, it is right around the block from my house and it is frequented by kids I used to be considerably close with, so I figured what the hell. As I walked in, I wasn't surprised to see some old faces from my past and I was rather pleased upon entry to see these people. I was greeted with a big cheer from my friend Rich, who actually texted me earlier in the week to catch up. We hugged and we both were visibly happy to be with one another. Unfortunately this first sentence that was spoken to me afterwards was "Joey Ryan died today."

Since I have graduated high school, I have lost 3 friends. Joey was the most recent. I was never too close with any of them, but I was close enough that when ever I ran into anyone of the 3, we would have a rather long and in depth conversation. We all got a long and we all had a mutual respect and appreciation for one another. So each one of their deaths has impacted me on some level.

Much to my dismay, I was away both dates of the services for Joey. I send my absolute utmost respects to his family.

Last Thursday, I once again returned to Benchwarmers and was pleased to see even more familiar faces. This time the bar was raising money for Joey's family, so a lot of people I haven't seen in a long, long time were all there. People I once considered at one point close friends, but haven't really kept in touch with.

After speaking to a few people for sometime I decided that I am going to try to come to this bar every Thursday. Not because I want to get drunk, but because I am sick of telling people that "It has been too long." I hope I never have to utter that phrase again. The truth is, there are plenty of people I care about, that I haven't really kept up with since we all started going to college, and I don't want the next time I see them to be when they are in a casket.

We all live in an age where human interaction has been reduced to saying "happy birthday" on someone's facebook wall when they pop up in your feed. That sucks. That is the fucking worst. For me, there are too many people I can't imagine loosing, and I am going to let my actions show that. Sometimes you have to go the extra mile, you can't always be waiting for people to enter your life, because sometimes it's too late. So take some time out of your life and visit the people that you care about, even if you haven't seen each other in awhile. Get the fuck off facebook! Stop staring at pictures of people you once knew and go out and get to know them over again. Lets all start acting more like people. The world will become a better place if we all try a little harder to be more personable and to maintain friendships.

Much love and respect to Brian Cerdelli, D.J. Villegas and Joey Ryan. Forever cherished and missed. All 3 gone too soon.

Nobody else can tell us how to live our lives, we're not running anymore.

I am going to try my hardest to make this short and to the point. My entire life I have been able to overcome every obstacle thrown my way except my parents. For years now they have fought me on pursuing music instead of conforming to the regular conventions of life. Tonight, my parents and I had a fight not to unlike the ones in the past. The bottom line is that they don't get it, and they never will unless they see for themselves.

I don't ask for too much from anyone, but this weekend is my 21st birthday and I am asking anyone who cares enough to read this to do me this one favor. Please come to the show this Sunday at Broadway and go ape shit. I am going to try my hardest to get my parents to come out to the show, because they haven't been to a show of mine in years. I want to show my parents why I am as passionate about music as I am, and why I wont settle for anything else. And I can't do that without your help. Some people may never understand why we do what we do. The least we can do is attempt to explain ourselves.

I look around and I hate everything, my only friends are the people that dream.

It has been a long time since I wrote anything on here. Mostly because I was going to that memoir thing. I still want to get around to that, but I in a different way. I think when I have some down time I'll do video journals or some shit recounting stories of my past, because I really do feel I have something to offer to anyone who is interested enough in watching and listening to what I have to say, if its a new perspective on an age old problem or just a good laugh. But looking in retrospect, I started the last memoir from a shallow place, and ultimately would have written something lack luster that wasn't genuine. So some day I will get back to that.

To catch anyone who doesn't know up, my life is just as hectic as it has always been. My mother recently was diagnosed with breast cancer. A few weeks back she had a double mastectomy and reconstruction done. Today she is back for another surgery because the tissues aren't exactly forming right. It has been a really difficult time for my family, mostly my dad and myself. Caring for her is no easy task, and if you know my mother, you know she has a very precise way of doing things and there is no compromising that. The road to recovery is going to be long and painful. At this point, the most I can hope for is that she will be able to return to her normal state of living eventually. My mother is a fighter and a workhorse and I think laying in bed all the time is killing her more than the cancer. Even in the hospital she wanted to work. She may be the toughest woman I know and I hope that the future holds good things.

I have lost track of how many funerals I have attended the last few years between family and friends. It has been a never ending shit storm since 2010. Mentally, I feel completely broken. I find a way to fake a smile in most circumstance, and pretend that the most pressing matters in my life are these trivial things like who will I sleep with this weekend or how will I be getting wasted. I have to say that I probably have become dependent on sex and drugs recently. More or less to numb the feeling of despair that I feel constantly. I have been drinking whiskey regularly. Everyday I fill up my flask and go the entire day drinking. It helps.

The band has been doing pretty well. Another thing that helps counteract the constant feeling of hopelessness. Our first tour was a success and we just recently got back from a weekend out that went pretty well. There is some petty shit going on that I wont delve to deep into. If you know, then you know. A lot of it is politics, a lot of it is hurt feelings. You can't win em all. I do wish that this nonsense could of occurred at a different time. Having to be an ambassador of peace on top of everything else that is going on is just so fucking annoying. I wish that I knew what was going on before everyone up and left, because then maybe this would have already been squashed. But for reasons that I fully understand but only partially agree with, that never happened. I guess if there was one thing I learned from this is to watch what you say to some people. It is very likely that what ever is said can be taken out of context and repeated, and it creates a mess like this. Also, if you hear some shit, take it up with the source. I love my friends, but I will admit that the maturity level of some people is lower than others. And rightfully so. When you look at it, there is a 10 year age spread. You can't expect a kid in high school to act and conduct himself the same way a college graduate would. You just can't. But when you mix all these different types of people up, you are bound to run into some brick walls that will make dudes in their 20's act like teenagers again. All throughout life there will be he said/she said bullshit (praise be to Fred Durst) but it is up to us to make a conscious effort to put that shit behind us and act like adults. The problem may very well be that 1 person dislikes something another person likes, and that is no reason to get all up in arms. It is just a difference in taste. We accept it and move on. No need to turn it into a spectacle. We aren't the U.S. congress, so lets stop pretending we are. At least for my sanity. I have real things to worry about.

I wont get too deep into my intimate life. I have been talking to a lot of girls recently. Part of me is over the past and ready to move on, but another part of me is fucked completely to hell and back, and it makes it difficult to commit knowing that I am so unstable. And not just mentally, but fiscally. My job calls me in about once a month. It is so difficult to maintain a lifestyle of being on the road when you barely work during the time spent at home. Couple that with trying to find a girlfriend. I can't possibly start dating someone when I have $10 in my bank account (no joke). So yea, finding someone to just have sex with to fill the void of feeling empty and alone is all I can do on a week to week basis. Which kind of sucks, cause what I really want is something substantial and permanent. The comfort of knowing someone is there. I guess in a way I still have that in all of my ex girlfriends. They have all been great to me post breakup, but it still doesn't exactly compensate for an actual partner.

I turn 21 in a few weeks. Kind of exciting, kind of terrifying. I need to start acting like an adult a little more frequently, which is terribly hard because I am such a degenerate. I can't imagine graduating in a year. What the fuck am I going to do? There are no jobs. Even if there were jobs, I can't find one that I want. Other than being in a band, there is nothing I really want to do. I have to say that living in a van isn't all that bad. Which brings me to my last point.

I became an atheist a few years back. I remember the exact moment. It was when I heard that Nat, the man who ran The Calvary Shows, was taken into a basement by radical christians and they tried to perform an exorcism on him. That was the moment I became fed up with all the bullshit that surrounds religion. This man did nothing but provide kids with a place to play music and listen to bands, and these fucks wanted to crucify him. Because of this, life has become increasingly difficult. Some people have the afterlife to look forward to, I have nothing. I have to make the most out of my time on Earth, which is incredibly hard to do when society basically forces you into the education system at 5, before you have the mental capacity to make decisions or form opinions on your own, and for 13 years, shovels this idea that if you don't get a job you will be nothing, so you have to do well in school in order to go to college in order to go to graduate school in order to get a job. So we are essentially all brain washed into this idea that there are no other options than the ones that are laid out before you, so you better pick one young and you better be good at it or else you are fucked. And that sucks. There was never any option that really appealed to me. So now I am stuck in this system, adhering to rules and regulations I never agreed to because society wants it that way. This is why music and skating are so important to me, because at the end of it all, I will be nothing more than ashes that will be dumped into a manhole at the Firestone parking lot. When you have no god, you have to believe in what is tangible. For me, skating and playing music is my religion. It is where I go to reflect and to mediate. It is where I go to be spiritual.

I think it is time for me to go renew my drivers licensee and then skate till my mom is out of surgery.

Gonna Take A Trip Down Memory Lane: Part 1, Early Childhood

One of my earliest memories is of my Great Grandmothers funeral. I was too young to really understand what had happened, but the day itself sticks out in my mind in vivid detail. It was during autumn. I remember this because there were brown leaves all over the ground. I was wearing a little suit, and I remember standing as still as I could. I remember trying to be sad, because everyone else was sad. But thats it.

According to my mom, I became very preoccupied with dying and death, and I assume it had to be around this time. I don't remember being so curious, but I do remember the trips to the therapist with my mom. According to her, I became too much to handle and she took me to a therapist, and rightfully so. How do you explain to an infant the complexities of dying? More importantly, why would an infant be so concerned?

I used to love going to that therapist. I guess it was because I was once again too young to understand what was happening. This therapist's office was in that big office building on Hempstead Turnpike, right by Lowes Theaters and Best Buy in Levittown. I don't remember what the rest of the building looked like, but the therapist's office was a small, dim lit room, with soft carpet. Every time my mom and I went, the three of us would sit on the floor and play Candy Land or with Lincoln Logs. I guess I was asked a bunch of questions, but I think in the end, the therapist ultimately distracted me long enough to not care about the inevitable and sent me on my way. I guess this is why I never cry or really feel anything when someone I know, someone I love, dies. I can't say for sure, but if I had to guess, I would say these early childhood therapy sessions were responsible.

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I don't ever recall a stage in my life where I found the opposite sex unappealing. The first girl I ever had feelings for, in the most remote sense, was Catherine from Pre-School. Looking back, I wouldn't say that I "loved" her, it was more infatuation. If we were playing house, and she wanted to be "the dog", I wanted to be "the other dog". If she wanted a toy that someone else was playing with, I made sure she got that toy. I was pussy whipped way before the term was even coined, and way before I would ever understand it.

I don't know why, but at some point I "graduated" from Pre-School to Nursery School. The difference being... well I really couldn't tell you. But Nursery School would be where I met my first real friends. Dominick and Alexa. The three of us were all from East Meadow, and oddly enough we all go to Hofstra now, weird. We typically did all the things you would expect kids in Nursery School to do: play with Legos and Play-Doh, run around outside, nap, pretend to be some dumb cartoon, all the things I wish I could do today without being diagnosed with some social disorder.

Other than making my first real friends, Nursery School remains important to me for two big reasons. The first being my first near death experience.

It was a rainy day. My mom had just arrived to pick me up and even though I probably had a great day with Dominick and Alexa, nothing was better than going home. I ran to collect my things, and slipped on some water from the rain and fell out of a window. My back was cut up from the glass and my ass hurt like hell from landing on the rocks placed outside, yet I did not cry a single tear until my mom found me a bloody and wet mess. I found out in psychology that most kids don't realize how hurt they are until the see the reaction on their parents face. I guess this is a textbook example. I don't know the statistics for toddlers who fell from a second floor window and lived, but I am sure I am apart of the smaller ratio.

The second reason Nursery School was important to me was a girl named Sarah.

Sarah was a blonde hair, blue eyed girl from North Bellmore. She lived at the second house on the right on North Jerusalem Ave after you make the left from East Meadow Ave. Sarah and I were incredibly close. Play-dates were frequent at both of our houses. After swimming in my pool, the two of us would bathe together. Sarah was the first girl I played "doctor" with. In other words, she was the first girl I ever sexually explored. A lot of our play dates resulted in us wearing only our underwear. I will never forget the day her older brother caught us. That was the last day I ever saw Sarah. Once again, I don't know if I would use the word "love" to describe how I felt about Sarah, but I do recall being devastated knowing that I was never going to see her again. Every time I pass her house, I think about stopping and knocking on the door and seeing if she still lives there. One day I might.

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The first day of Kindergarden marks the day I ever really felt overwhelming emotions for a girl. Her name was Kaleigh. She lived around the block from me, but we would take the same bus to and from school. When I first saw her at the bus stop, I immediately felt a change from within me. I was overcome with warmth and all I wanted to do was take her to my house and show her my fake pet fish. Kaleigh and I would spend everyday together for years and yes, we were in love. One of my moms favorite stories to tell about my childhood is about a conversation she overheard me and Kaleigh having that went something like this:

K: "I can't have a job, I need to take care of the baby. What job are you going to get?"

A: "I'm gonna be a paleontologist!"

K: "That doesn't sound like you'll be making a lot of money."

A: "Thats ok, we can live in an apartment."

K: "No, I want to live in a house!"

And so on.

Throughout Elementary School, Kaleigh and I would show our affection for one another by creating some really bizarre, whacked out version of tag that involved a lot of boys and girls chasing each other for no particular reason. Looking back, it really didn't make much sense, but I guess at the time there was no other way for me to show her I cared for her than to have my friends chase hers for the length of recess.

Kaleigh would eventually move to Levittown, putting our friendship on a hiatus of sorts.

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The kids I would meet in Elementary School would eventually to turn out to be the most important in my life, and if you care enough about the Long Island Music Scene, this will now apply to you.

Two of the first kids I ever looked up to were Jason Lopes and Matt Lagattuta.

Yes, that Matt Lagattuta.

Matt, Jay and I all took the same bus home from school. They may not remember this, but they were responsible, partially, for getting me into "serious" trouble for the first time in my life. As Second Graders, Matt and Jay found joy in cursing on the bus. Myself, being in first grade, also found it to be an enjoyable pass time, until the driver reported to my mother that I had been yelling "fuck" during the ride home. I started taking a different bus home after this.

When I was in Second Grade, my mother had to start working late on some days and enrolled me into Scope, a program where kids could do homework and play until their parents could come and pick them up. Once again, two very important things in my life happened during my time at Scope.

The first was my first kiss. Her name was Erica. Unfortunately, there is no cute story to accompany this tale. It doesn't make it any less important though.

The second would be the second meeting of Matt Lagattuta and myself, but I will get more into that later.

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Third Grade would mark the year that I officially became a "trouble maker". I began to use profanity liberally when my friend John has showed me how much fun it is when you don't get in trouble for it. During recess, we would run into the field and yell obscenities far out of ear shot of the guides, and for the first time I tasted what freedom was like. Being able to get away with even the most heinous of crimes and not need to worry about it.

I also learned how to solve my problems with violence in Third Grade. There are two instances that stand out in my mind. The first one being when Jordan, someone a considered a friend, took my Lego Pod Racer and broke it. My immediate reaction was to slam his head into the wall as hard as I can, as many times as I can. The second one was when Steve, someone I didn't really care for but I didn't hate him, stole my Pokemon Cards. I got them back from him that day, but the morning after, I close-lined him outside before school started and left him on the ground until my teacher asked where he was.

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Perhaps the most important event in my entire life happened in Third Grade, and that was my discovery of blink-182. Due to my neighbors David and Amanda turning me on to MTV, I spent most of the time I should have spent watching cartoons witnessing the only time when music would be played on MTV. Lucky for me, there are plenty of awesome cartoons for me to watch now, so I guess it evens out. I digress.

I was watching the VMA's terribly excited to watch artists I was barely familiar with win awards for more things that I was barely familiar with. Sure enough blink-182 would play "All the Small Things" and I would be forever changed. This was the performance:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2TIEUCMtosM

That 2 minutes and 42 seconds would be the best 2 minutes and 42 seconds of my life, making me completely forget about my trip to Disney World the summer earlier.

The day after this I went to Coconuts with my dad and he bought me my first CD ever, "Enema of the State". I didn't have the CD for too long though. It was promptly taken away from me when my mother heard the lyrics "He's a fucking weasel!" during "Dysentery Gary". She was double pissed when she saw the album artwork. But by that point, it was too late to save me. blink-182 stole my heart and soul.

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Matt and I would meet again when I was in Fourth Grade at Scope. Like me, Matt also had an undying love for blink. It didn't take us long to hit it off, spending most of our time at Scope listening to his blink CDs on his walkman and discussing which songs we liked the best, essentially "fan girling" way before the term was coined (I'm just gonna break here and say that I will probably deliberately repeat phrases like this throughout the memoir, just fucking deal). This would be the planting of the seeds that would eventually grow to form the band Valet Parking.

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I hit puberty in Fifth Grade. Needless to say it did not take long for me to get used to it. In fact, I embraced it whole heartedly. This became a problem when I was found going to www.assfuckers.com on a school computer with my friend Amin. The entire East Meadow School District lost computer use for two weeks because of this. Amin and I of course lost computer privileges for the rest of the year.

My Grandmother Molly died when I was in Fifth Grade, and this was the first time I was ever exposed to racism. I of course was absent from school for a few days and when I returned, I explained to my class that my Grandmother had died and my family and I sat Shiva, as is custom in Judaism. Sure enough, I was passed a note from a girl named Veronica that explained to me that my Grandmother was in Hell because she was Jewish. My response to this was rather... interesting to say the least, and years ahead of my time. I became a Satanist, in the loosest form.

I don't know why worshiping Satan seemed like the correct response to Veronica telling me my Grandmother was in hell, but I guess it made sense at the time. Sure enough, my two friends Matt and David (both different from my neighbor and Lagattuta) joined me, and each day we would "sacrifice" toys to Satan during recess and dedicated a shrine at a tree to him. I think this probably scared the shit out of Veronica more than anything. I assume she thought that Satan would drive up from Hell with my Grandma sitting shotgun ready to drag her down to hell and rape her or some shit, because she spent a lot of time pleading with me to stop and even pleaded with me in her message that she wrote in my year book.

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By the end of Elementary School, I was eager to move on to Middle School, so I can join Matt and all his friends in everything from school dances to joining sports teams. Little did any of us know then of how quickly things would change.

Gonna Take A Trip Down Memory Lane: Prologue

I think it was my senior year in high school when I first attempted to write out the story of my life. It was rather well received when I wrote it and I was pretty proud of it then. I have recently went back to read it again today and, well, it really wasn't written too well. Some huge parts of my life were completely left out and to be completely honest, I wasn't that great of a writer.

If I am guessing correctly, it is about 3 years later and my writing has improved greatly. Going to college will do that I guess. So I am going to attempt to do it again, but this time a little differently. The first time I did this, I tried to finish it in one night. This time I am going to take my time, and flesh it out over a few weeks.

I am doing this because I feel like it is a good way to let people know who I am, not just some guy in a band who is naked all the time.

Another reason I am doing this is because I truly do think I have a noteworthy life. Not to say that other people do not, it is just that I am kind of a much different person than most people, and my closest of friends can confirm that for you.

I guess I picked a shitty week to start this, because I do have important papers that I need to finish by the end of the week, but the truth is, I really don't feel like writing about anything else at the moment.

So here it is. What I am about to write, and what you are about to read, is the story of a boy who couldn't keep himself out of trouble, grew up too fast, fell in love with music, made great and lost great friends, made a name for himself, struggled with many hardships, stuck to his guns and tried his hardest to be an honest and genuine person throughout his existence. This is the full story of me, Andrew Bilder, free of falsehoods and exaggerations.

Sometimes I get tired of pins and needles, facades are a fire on the skin..

I am going to preface this blog by stating that I don't want help, I don't want sympathy, I don't want to talk about it, I don't even want compassion. If you loathe me, continue to fucking loathe me. What I do want is understanding. I am writing this blog, against my better judgement, as a way to vent my feelings and warn anyone who reads this that I am going to be on edge for sometime. So instead of keeping it a secret and waiting for something to go wrong before I sit down and write this, I am just going to get it out of the way now, because truthfully I can't handle much more bullshit than what I am already dealing with.

I can't sleep for shit anymore. I don't know if I am sick or not, but my tonsils are literally touching. Throughout the night I wake up unable to breath. My sleep apnea has been a problem in the past, but never this consistently.

I eventually gave up on trying to sleep and made my way down stairs to spend some time with my family before Zach heads back to college. Instead of this, I am informed that my Great Aunt Flo has died. I know it sounds weird, but I got to know her better than some of my actual grandparents, because they all died when I was much younger. The news upset me, but I guess it annoyed me more than anything else. And here is why.

The day before Thanksgiving my mom received a phone call informing her that she has breast cancer in both breasts. My family has been living in a somewhat numb manner. I personally have revisited some old habits that I am not proud of and coupled that with getting very drunk and very high. This may be why I can't sleep so well. I have literally abused my body to the core every night since we got the news.

This week will start the hell that is the reality of living with a cancer patient. Delegating my time was a hard enough task when I only had to worry about the band, school and working. And working happened so scarcely that it really didn't consume much time. But now I have to make time to take my mom to doctors and all that shit, and I lot of things are going to have to take the back seat.

So like I said at the beginning of this blog, I am only looking for understanding through all of this. Thanks for your time.