When you're a kid you have an idea of how your life will be. For a very small number of people it turns out that way but for the rest of us it does not. For most people,it's a fire that burns brightly throughout their 20's and then, reality hits. Most people accept what they must do and let their dream become something else. Let it become a hobby,start a family or put their efforts elsewhere.  What if that part of you wasn't able to die or change? It's like a knife in your chest, if you pull it out you'll die but to leave it in, it's immensely painful.  I am stuck with an impossible hunger that cannot be satiated. An deafening  alarm  that can't be turned off.  A riddle that can't be solved. ( I thought of lots more of these but I'll spare you.) I used to always say " Fuck it, I'll go down with the ship, i'll die with my love". That's poetic and a beautiful, bold statement but it's getting so hard to live up to. years and years and years of beating my head against the wall and spinning my wheels trying to get my music out there has taken a terrible toll on me. It's like all other doors in my life are shut until i get this one open,it's maddening. Some days it feels like a curse. I think, why couldn't I have been passionate about something that's actually fucking attainable. True passion chooses you, digs it's roots deep and becomes part of who you are.

Recently, I've been feverishly searching for something I might be able to do for money that I don't hate. As much as i would love for it to be music, I just don't believe there is an audience for the music I'm making. I'm stuck in a dark conundrum with music where it is the only thing that will ever bring me true happiness but until then just brings me crippling depression. At this point, failure would be an upgrade from nonexistence. If I had  large sample size of people who had heard my music and hated it, I would at lest sleep better at night knowing it had it's chance. with my music though, I make ll these songs that I release and then go to die on the internet. Of course, I cant ask for guidance in this because there is no clear cut answer. Every day I tell myself to chill out, just have fun making music again, try my best and if people dig it, then great. At the end of the day though I need to love making music again and just enjoy it.

I get so caught up in everyone who's doing better than me, self analyzing and trying to figure out what is wrong with my music. It suffocates all the creative energy out of me and I'll sit down in my studio and begin writing, when the thought of " Who cares" hits me. I'm so bad at promoting and have no clue how to make people care about my art. I go through highs and lows, I'm sure in a couple days time, I'll be back in fighting spirits. Maybe there is happiness inside of the struggle, if i could find that and learn to love the fight, maybe I would be more productive. The only answer to this impossible problem is to love the struggle, keep trying things, FIND A WAY. I’ll leave it on a quote from Hagakure “If you are slain, be sure your corpse faces the enemy."

do you ever feel you have a purpose? something that you are compelled to do for a reason you may not even understand fully understand. Accomplishment is the only feeling that has ever brought me a sliver of peace but it's never enough.Everyone around me seems to want to just go to work and drink away that one little voice in their heads that's actually making any sense. That voice is a scary one though, the one that tells you " none of this feels right" or that bit of emptiness that's felt right before sleep. When i was a kid, I used to watch other kids be so blissfully happy and wonder "why can't I just stop thinking so much and be like them".I still sometimes have that thought when I'm around my peers. All i wanted as a kid was to shut off my mind and just be happy. of course, most times with this problem, people turn to substance abuse but I was fortunate enough to see the dangers of that at a young age. I had sleeping problems my whole childhood and my thoughts became an anchor around my neck that I couldn't shake. It was maddening, having so much to say but just not knowing how to portray it or not knowing how to get others to understand how you feel. Reading and writing became the only ways I could take my mind off of things, so i avidly started reading.

I was at the library one day when I saw a small black book with red lettering laying next to some others called Hagakure( in the shadow of the leaves). I flipped to a random page in the book and read this paragraph ““There is surely nothing other than the single purpose of the present . A man's whole life is a succession of moment after moment. There will be nothing else to do, and nothing else to pursue. Live being true to the single purpose of the moment.” I was too young to really understand what it meant but I loved that i didn't understand, I had no idea how big of an impact this book would have on me. It was a collection of old stories and sayings about the code samurai used to live by. For the first time in my life, I realized a life of purpose and discipline was the only thing that could ever bring me peace. I'm not like the other kids, this burden is mine because I'm able to carry it. I vowed to never do drugs or drink alcohol, I started working out and getting my body in shape.It wasn't a feeling that i finally mattered, it was embracing that I don't matter and that's okay. I am an instrument of purpose and I can use my mind to influence this world in a positive way.  The book also taught me  extremely important life tools, meditation and complete and utter submergence into the current moment. Another major lesson I learned was unattachment, being too latched on is unhealthy, as all things must  pass. I try to live with the constant reminder that I am only a fleeting gear in a machine much larger than myself. 

How do you think of nothing? Even actively thinking about nothing in itself is defeating the purpose, it seemed like a conundrum.I struggled so hard with meditation, it took years and years for me to finally be able to lose myself. it may very well have been the best day of my life. I still to this day need the help of running water or a noise to focus on, which makes nothingness easier to achieve. you put your mind on the noise and you aren't thinking of anything you are just focused on the moment. I was always so worried about the future or dying or something awful that I wasn't able to touch the moments as they went by. It was only when I realized how small of a part I am of everything and how little I matter, that I could throw myself at my purpose with wreck less abandon.Live as though I am already dead, let go of fear and doubt. Of course, I'm human I have emotions,I get sad at times and lose sight of the epiphany i had all those years ago. Any time I'm feeling that way though, I pick up Hagakure and read back through and I always feel better. It is the oldest possession I own, I never travel without it and it's the only possession I truly cherish. I leave you with this another one of my favorite paragraphs "“If one is not unattached to life and death, he will be of no use whatsoever. The saying that “All abilities come from one mind” sounds as though it has to do with sentient matters, but it is in fact a matter of being unattached to life and death. With such non-attachment one can accomplish any feat.”   I wont turn my back on the difficult thoughts or paths, I will embrace them and live inside of each moment unafraid of the next.

As I’ve walked around Europe,mostly in Switzerland, I just feel like a ghost. Watching people happily going about their lives together, the most important part of cultures is how people interact with each other.Quietly writing things down in my notebook, reflecting on what’s around me but not actually experiencing it. I can’t understand anyone or really interact with anyone, people just sort of look past me. Shed my cumbersome skin of my life in America  to become a lost wraith floating through a foreign land searching for perspective by surrendering myself to the undeniable transformative powers of being uncomfortable.Experiencing other people’s cultures alone can be so strange, especially if you’re me.There is some solace in being so invisible but the inability to connect can be  maddening. I spent so much time inside of my beanie wrapped head as it vibrated against the window of a train headed to a destination I can’t pronounce. It's such a lonely feeling to be so close to many people but feel so far away from all of them.Bern was very quiet and reserved, well besides the train stations because they were ragin. Just 17-18 year old kids pounding beers, listening to music. It was very expensive and I spent most my time traveling to surrounding areas.Switzerland is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. You have to just go see it for yourselves. I will say though after hearing romantic languages like French and Italian the whole trip, switching to hearing German was rough on the ears. A delicious little croissant with chocolate is called a schoggibrötli which instantly makes it sound unappealing.

Solo travel is definitely a good thing and can help you grow but no one is around to share the experience all your stories are just stories, there’s no real validity to them.Of course,if you are a social butterfly and good with people you may find your experience different. I’ve met people along the way but our paths just veer in different ways. Now with the rise of social media, being alone kind of just feels like you are doing it to look cool on social media.Many times on this trip I’ve felt that way about myself. The question comes up why are you here? What did you come all this way to learn?Honestly two reasons 1. To break my writers block and 2. Traveling brings a very attainable sense of accomplishment.Writers block for me is like having a puzzle in which you know how all the pieces fit together but the tiles are all blank. I’m not trying to totally swear off solo trips but definitely shorter ones and probably ones where a beach is involved. I keep telling myself to stop treating this like a fucking homework assignment but this blog has also given my trip so much meaning.

Reflecting on my experience through writing gives the trip a deeper purpose.also, anyone reading this I truly appreciate it.i loved this trip it was amazing but I will say if you’re going to backpack or go on a long journey bring someone you enjoy along. Otherwise, it’s just lookin cool on Instagram. By being alone I was able to give an interesting insight. I kind of hate the whole backpacker identity. Aimlessly wandering is not exactly admirable. What’s admirable to me is building a community with culture and roots, not just being a tourists of others doing it. Travel is important I would do it endlessly but I hate the backpacker mentality. It becomes a game of “ well look at all the places I’ve been, where have you been?”. Okay but what did you learn or take away from any of that besides Instagram pictures? Travel always helps me get perspective though, now back to America to finish my EP which during my trip I have named. Let's call it "Caveat", I've been writing so much again, starting to feel like myself.

Recently I've been thinking about people who move to other places with an elitist mentality that they are somehow above the people they left behind (aka myself). I moved  to Indianapolis from Los Angeles awhile back and I've been realizing a lot about myself and my move to Los Angeles. My biggest take away is that people make a place and also that you cannot lump an entire group of people together based on the place they live. I've been avoiding the Midwest like the plague for the past couple years and while yes, it isn't my favorite place in the world, it deserves much more respect than I have given it. I do believe that we always have to chase opportunities wherever they are, so if there's an opportunity to improve your life somewhere take it. Some people just want a change of scenery, nothing wrong with that. I guess i had typecast people in the Midwest as small minded and short sighted but since I've been back I've seen so much art and heard so many dreams and so many stories that have really inspired me to realize that I'm dead wrong, as I am quite often. I thought if i got to LA people would see me differently and I'd be somehow cooler. I could paint a social media picture that would impress others, at family functions they would talk about me as if I were a myth. Through depression,poverty and unrest I continued to fake it for Instagram, desperately trying to convince people that my pilgrimage to the land of the misunderstood was fruitful but it was not. Honesty isn't coveted, results are. Living selfishly and distancing yourself from others to get them to envy you isn't cool, it's sad.

LA killed lots of bad parts of me and for that I am very thankful. No longer do i desperately try to publicize  my identity as an artist, it's something I know and feel deeply and I no longer need to convince others of it. It's so off putting to look around at everyone trying so hard to convince each other that they are this or that, its fucking exhausting. Social media has created this awful pressure on all of us that we aren't living the lives we should be and I fell victim very hard. LA gets a bad rep though, I do have a special love for that city. Honestly, my favorite people I met were locals, the cancer on that place was all of us transplants with our hands out. Wanting the city to validate us and give us our identities, wanting everything and not offering much in return. Reinventing ourselves into how we want to be seen instead of seeing what we actually are inside.

Everyone has a different journey and I would never want to discourage anyone from moving to a new place but more so just  questioning the reasons behind it. The question I keep getting is "why would you ever move back from Los Angeles to indiana?" Besides the obvious financial reasons, this will sound weird but I missed the bleakness. There is something profound about  silence on a cold, grey day, it's like a warm blanket for me. I think by nature I am just a melancholy person, so endless smiles and sunshine wore on my soul. I yearned for the richness and depth of dreariness. LA was sort of one dimensional for me, I don't want just sunshine and happiness, I want the whole spectrum. With large cities though, you'll never have two stories that are the same, so it's really hard to take anyone's word for it, you just have to roll the dice for yourself. I want to also touch back on that fact that people make a place. In my mind, Pretty much if you put all the people you love in one place it doesn't really even matter where that is.

​There was such an tremendous pressure to feel happy in LA that you almost felt guilty on days you just weren't feeling it. Which leads to lots people just faking it or else you get pegged as negative or just not good enough to be there. We live in a time where we are spoon fed FOMO and it honestly just takes confidence to know who you are and where you want to be. This took lots of time and traveling for me. I never know where I'll end up from year to year but I do know this motivated, amazing people are everywhere not just on the coasts, not just in the places you've heard of. They are in small towns, they are hidden in big cities, the world around us is what we make of it. To me, the true heroes are the people putting effort into their hometowns, asking what they can do to improve it, instead of just abandoning it. It's not as flashy, it takes more time but it's so incredibly important. So wherever I end up from year to year I want to ask myself, How can I give to that place instead of just expecting things out of it. I will be posting more often and apologize for the long gaps between posts. I'm traveling through Europe next month and will most definitely be writing reflections on that!

Alright before I get in to this post I need to get something out of the way, Asia come in and take a seat we need to talk. You should never be able to pour coffee into a cup of hot water and stir it in, that's called hot chocolate. Finding a cup of brewed coffee was near impossible, I respect that a lot of places offer Americanos but Jesus somebody has gotta step up and have some actual brewed coffee. I digress, I recently traveled to Thailand and wanted to collect my thoughts on the experience here and I dunno maybe some humans will read it. What a gorgeous country Thailand is. I first arrived to Bangkok which is a gigantic sprawling city even more so than Los Angeles which is saying something. My first goal when getting off the plane was getting  Pad Thai and ohhhh boy did I get some. I literally ate it every single day, I mean for even the most simple Pad Thai in Los Angeles it'll run you at least ten bucks(besides one very questionable place I know of in Macarthur Park) but here I could get a heaping pile of delicious noodles for under 2$. Another hilarious thing is Thai restaurants have the most ambitious menus I've ever seen, I saw one menu that had 35 pages and a fucking table of contents just in case you get lost.Thailand gets lots of westerners so you have the typical street vendors whom all have very flexible prices and similar merchandise(elephant necklaces, bracelets, shit like that). Now one of the first places we went was a place called Nana plaza, dear god. If I could sum this place up in one word it would be...... prostitution. Quite literally hundreds of prostitutes in a couple block radius, women and ladyboys alike. You are being yelled at to come into bars left and right, people grabbing your arm,  with enough money you could  kind of do whatever you want in this place(kind of like westworld without the murdering). I feel as if you have to kind of not take Nana plaza too seriously or it will just bum you out.I also tried to keep in mind that prositution is different here and doesn't carry the stigma that it does in other places. Outside of that place, Bangkok is busy and overwhelming and made LA feel like a quiet suburb.  I was in Bangkok twice during this trip, we were only here for a couple days before we headed south and we returned for the last couple days before flying out. We'll get back to Bangkok now lets talk about southern Thailand an island called Koh Lanta.

We went during the raining season so at times it sort of felt deserted which I was all about after spending a couple days in Bangkok. Little family run restaurants with the same menus the size of a small novel packed full of all different kinds of food. Lots of small rasta bars with posters of Bob Marley and Che Guevara with little pillows to sit on that felt like someones house because the people who own the place actually do live there. It didn't really feel too touristy I felt more as a guest in someones home rather than a customer at a hotel. Laws don't really exist here I don't think I saw a cop once. You could walk right up to the bar order a beer, a joint and some mushrooms if you so desire. Here every time someone would try to sell you something they would say "Why Not" which is actually harder to respond to than you would think. Two words could not describe a place better, I mean think you'e a decaying piece of organic matter trapped inside of a world you don't understand constantly being crushed by the pressure of a cruel curse called consciousness sooooo why not do some stupid shit take your mind off of it for awhile. It was so easy to lose track of time here and really it didn't matter no one really has anywhere to be. We all splurged on a nice villa and spent our time here playing cards avoiding rain and sitting at rasta bars and honestly Id totally recommend it. Being a tourist is much cooler when there aren't a million of you. so if you're every in Thailand during the raining season grab some people you really like go to Koh Lanta and chill. Now onto the third part of our trip and my favorite part by far, Railay Beach.

Now despite me calling it an island 7 million times it is in fact not an island but certainly feels like one. we got on a very tiny boat and crossed  through some extremely blue choppy water surrounded by cool rock forms. This place really only exists for tourists, the whole place was centered around tourism. The beach was right in between two big landmasses which were very popular for insane people to come rock climb. Once again I'm so happy we went during the raining season as it was calm and not crazy busy. of course the curse of instant coffee was heavy on this place but there were lots of delicious Thai pancakes in all flavors ( especially banana Nutella, oh fuck yeah).Plenty of similar Rasta bars where time stops and nothing really seems to matter. I don't think I saw one police officer or any real need for one, there seemed to be no laws but everything was peaceful and ran smoothly.Once again the catch phrase of my trip resurfaces, why not?Most things you are offered are followed with this but it was used more as a statement than an actual question which is a cool way of thinking of it. I don't think it was meant to be taken as deep as I took it and this should also be treaded upon lightly but fuck it go to Thailand or go somewhere you've always wanted to go. The beauty of it is the answer to the question doesn't matter, don't think of it in that sense, think of it as a shield against the nagging little voice that tells you that you can't, or that you don't have enough money or you aren't good enough.Bangkok could very well be the entrance to hell BUT it has it's own vibe it's kind of like a flaming car accident you can't turn your eyes away from. Or like a piece of cake with all of your guilty pleasures baked in.If you're uptight conservative or judgmental  Bangkok will shake that shit out of you reeeeeal fast. Outside of Bangkok, Thailand is a beautiful place I really only got to scratch the surface of, my next trip there I want to venture up North and see more of the beautiful nature the country has to offer (and maybe wash an elephant or something). Also now that I'm back I will be relocating focusing more on playing live shows and continuing to spread the gospel of Old Major. In closing, do what you want, think about things less. I leave you with these two powerful and beautiful words, Why not.

P.S Monkeys are dicks.