Tim Lambesis from As I Lay Dying

 

Voice of Reason

CHORUS

No one would believe me when I had a story to tell

They bent the knee to the powers that be

They’re too afraid of burning in hell

You’re not the voice of reason, you’re enabling treason

You’re handing out forgiveness like it’s Christmas season

A seat at my table should always be earned

Fuck the crosses you burned

What are the lessons you’ve learned?

 

VERSE 1

You want me to compromise with the ones who tell lies

And give them any credence like they’re just as wise

Shake hands with the Klan for your economic plan

Where we come together for this capitalist cheddar

One for all and all for one

But what will you do now that the damage is done?

Marginalization is institutionalization

But at least we can agree this is a badass nation

 

CHORUS

No one would believe me when I had a story to tell

They bent the knee to the powers that be

They’re too afraid of burning in hell

You’re not the voice of reason, you’re enabling treason

You’re handing out forgiveness like it’s Christmas season

A seat at my table should always be earned

Fuck the crosses you burned

What are the lessons you’ve learned?

 

VERSE 2

You call it unity when you fit the square pegs

Into the round holes while the beggars beg

We’re all equal because we all look the same

As we’re playing Monopoly, a real-life game

Say nighty-nighty, give your dreams to the mighty

It’s for the common good even with the white hoods

In the end, we’ll all be ground up into sausage

But at least we won the war, ‘cause the street trash lost it

 

VERSE 3

You’re not riding the fence, you’re riding the dick

Of Agent 47 who should be 86ed

You say you love us all, but you won’t answer the call

You’ll be so far away when another tower falls

Of course you’re apathetic and it’s kind of pathetic

How you use your privilege to rewrite and edit

The story of history through your eyes, not theirs

You’re so rich and lionized that you don’t have to care

 

CHORUS

No one would believe me when I had a story to tell

They bent the knee to the powers that be

They’re too afraid of burning in hell

You’re not the voice of reason, you’re enabling treason

You’re handing out forgiveness like it’s Christmas season

A seat at my table should always be earned

Fuck the crosses you burned

What are the lessons you’ve learned?

 

OUTRO

No small surprise where the center really lies

You’re the center of the universe, now everything’s worse

You sang kumbaya with jackboot-wearing thugs

Future civilizations will wonder if we’re on drugs

You Are the Reason

You are the reason you lost all your friends

You are the reason your romances end

You are the reason you’re all alone

You are the reason and you can’t atone

 

You are the reason we hate religion

You are the reason we hate politicians

You are the reason we have division

I’m starting to think this was your mission

 

You are the reason the world’s on fire

You are the reason we hang by a wire

You are the reason we’re too damn tired

To raise any children in a world of killin’

 

You are the reason we cannot forgive you

You are the reason you need all the tissues

You are the reason for your own damn tears

You didn’t lead with hope, you led with fear

 

Now who could I be talking to when I say “you”?

A former friend? Some relatives? Some troll with loose screws?

The answer is yes, you and all the rest, and I said it best

Here comes Armageddon, we won’t let you forget it

 

I am the reason you’re gone forever

I am the reason we never speak ever

I am the reason for all the boundaries

I set them up and I say it proudly

 

I am the reason my life is much better

I am the reason, I am the trendsetter

I am the reason why I still have hope

Let you back in? That’s a big nope!

Got a Gripe?

CHORUS

Got a gripe? Let’s hear you blast it out your windpipes

Want to bitch? Let’s hear your used car sales pitch

Got a problem? Blow it out your apple bottom

Come on, you fucking clown, spit it out, spit it out

 

VERSE 1

“You need to lose weight, stop dressing like a slob

Put away the baby toys, go and get yourself a job

Put away the magic novel, watch the news instead

Cut that ratty ass mullet off your motherfucking head”

What are you going to do, make a citizen’s arrest?

Let’s put that rough and tough shit to the ultimate test

What’s that? You’re all talk and no action?

You’re not half a man, you’re a much smaller fraction

 

CHORUS

Got a gripe? Let’s hear you blast it out your windpipes

Want to bitch? Let’s hear your used car sales pitch

Got a problem? Blow it out your apple bottom

Come on, you fucking clown, spit it out, spit it out

 

VERSE 2

“My personality type is lead-poisoned Churchie

I got no soul, because my big daddy hurt me

Couldn’t break the cycle with a live jackhammer

I got white man tears, that’s the reason for the stammer”

I got some advice for a man of your excuses

Pull the bootstraps, but you know you can’t do it

It’s what you used to say once upon a distant time

As a meaningless solution to the big city’s crime

 

CHORUS

Got a gripe? Let’s hear you blast it out your windpipes

Want to bitch? Let’s hear your used car sales pitch

Got a problem? Blow it out your apple bottom

Come on, you fucking clown, spit it out, spit it out

 

VERSE 3

“I tried to say sorry, but you wouldn’t hear a word

‘Cause everything I say is like an ableist slur

I’m on my hands and knees saying please, please, please

At this point, it’s nothing more than sappy ass cheese”

You don’t get forgiveness, ‘cause it costs too much

There’s no easy quick fix for repairing broken trust

You could spend your whole life getting in good graces

Doesn’t mean shit to me, ‘cause I’ve seen your two faces

 

OUTRO

Spit it out, spit it out, do it one last time

Spit it out, spit it out, say your HR lines

Spit it out, spit it out, let’s hear what you’ve got

Dude, I’m just kidding, you’re only sorry that you’re caught

There Won't Be a Next Time

VERSE 1

Call me on the phone with tears in your eyes

All because you never got to say goodbye

It’s two in the morning and I’ve popped my pills

I have this conversation against my will

You’ve searched every place for just one answer

Except for the mirror, your one true romancer

It’s all your fault, ‘cause everything’s your fault

Rip the cord out of the wall to end these phone calls

 

CHORUS

I already know you won’t do it next time

Why? Because there won’t be a next time!

You’re like everyone else who blew their chances

Flushed away your own friendships and romances

 

VERSE 2

I can only imagine what you’re like in real life

Either a fair-weather friend or a yandere wife

Would you throw knives at me at Thanksgiving dinner?

Debate me at Christmas until you’re the winner?

Leave me behind on a faraway vacation?

So many dark scenarios in my imagination

Anxiety gives me the gift that keeps giving

A lifetime with you isn’t one that’s worth living

 

CHORUS

I already know you won’t do it next time

Why? Because there won’t be a next time!

You’re like everyone else who blew their chances

Flushed away your own friendships and romances

 

BRIDGE

Life would be easier if you just wore a shirt

That says, “I’m evil and I’m lower than dirt”

That way I wouldn’t spend time chasing your skirt

My brain would stay sane, your heart would never hurt

 

VERSE 3

And now it’s all over, so what should I do?

Spend more time creating, less thinking of you

I’ve got a wish list that’s about a mile long

Time to show the world what it means to be strong

But first a little shiver underneath my blanket

Wondering all day if I’m even going to make it

I dreamed of making money with my artistic skills

Climb the corporate mountain, but the avalanche kills

 

EXTENDED CHORUS

I already know you won’t do it next time

Why? Because there won’t be a next time!

You’re like everyone else who blew their chances

Flushed away your own friendships and romances

You can say you’re sorry until your throat goes raw

You can scream until you unhinge your own jaw

You can hang onto my leg like a little bitty toddler

Go and get a life, unlike an aborted daughter

Be My Zealot

VERSE 1

Second chances just don’t feel right

You had so many, the count’s out of sight

More than a bastard should ever deserve

New high score, stroke yourself, you perv

The gates of heaven have a permanent lock

I’ve stuffed the key down the front of my jock

Bolt cutters won’t get you past the arches

Now you’re a target for angelic archers

 

PRE-CHORUS 1

You want forgiveness? This is all you have to do

 

CHORUS

Be my zealot

Be my fanatic

I’ll be your god

Your reason to panic

Give me your body

Give me your soul

Give me your mind

Absolute control

Be my zealot!

 

VERSE 2

You spent so long raping my eardrums

With punch-down humor, your favorite fun

You spent so long renting space in my head

You’ll pay that debt long after you’re dead

You spent so long ripping out my heart

Breaking it so many times, I don’t know where to start

You spent so long ignoring my demands

To stop the insanity, ‘cause I won’t let it stand

 

PRE-CHORUS 1

You want forgiveness? This is all you have to do

 

CHORUS

Be my zealot

Be my fanatic

I’ll be your god

Your reason to panic

Give me your body

Give me your soul

Give me your mind

Absolute control

Be my zealot!

 

BRIDGE

The day of your funeral has finally arrived

Nobody showed up, so there’re no tears to cry

I walk past the steel gates with a heavy bladder

Pull out my pecker, your grave gets the splatter

 

PRE-CHORUS 2

It’s too late for forgiveness, so now that you’re in hell

 

CHORUS

Be my zealot

Be my fanatic

I’ll be your god

Your reason to panic

Give me your body

Give me your soul

Give me your mind

Absolute control

Be my zealot!

I Deserve to Be Alive

I might be problematic

But that’s always automatic

I’ll never take a dive

I deserve to be alive

I’ve got a checkered past

The damage done will last

Guilt’s beyond a nine to five

I deserve to be alive

I’m spinning my wheels

Made no business deals

Got no capitalist drive

I deserve to be alive

My future is uncertain

And it’s my anxious burden

Got no kids or wives

I deserve to be alive

I’ve broken every cycle

Without praying to St. Michael

Put down the pocket knives

You deserve to be alive

You deserve to have some fun

You deserve to be the one

Who keeps spreading the love

They’ll never get enough

The past is gone forever

Prepare for sunny weather

We’re a family, not a hive

We deserve to be alive

We deserve to be alive

We deserve to be alive

We deserve nothing less

Than life’s very best

Save Your Life

VERSE 1

You’re laying on my sofa getting high on my medicine

I couldn’t call the police without a shred of evidence

That you stole everything from me and my family

Left us broke and broken, on the edge of tragedy

So even if you’re drowning in the ghost river

I won’t swim after you, I’ll just let you shiver

You better grow gills and a fish tail over your legs

If you make it to the surface, grab your tin cup and beg

CHORUS

I’m never going to save your life

So get ready for the afterlife

You’d never do the same

For me on any day

Now it’s time to say

Now it’s time to say goodbye

VERSE 2

You got inside my head and you’re not getting out

Can I get on with my life? The answer is in doubt

My favorite music is all but dead to me

I got all this passion, but not enough energy

So even if you’re dangling over jagged rocks below

I’d turn and walk away, this is your own death row

You’d better grow wings and a halo over your head

If you fly to the top, it’s because you’re already dead

CHORUS

I’m never going to save your life

So get ready for the afterlife

You’d never do the same

For me on any day

Now it’s time to say

Now it’s time to say goodbye

BRIDGE

Forgiveness is a violation of my boundaries

It’s hard to let it go when my brain takes a pounding

I’m stuck in second place, but I’ll keep dipping lower

That’s called mental torture, it keeps getting slower

I can’t hold a job, I can’t live my life

I can’t drive a car, can’t marry a wife

My dreams are all gone with the wind

And that’s why I refuse to forgive

CHORUS

I’m never going to save your life

So get ready for the afterlife

You’d never do the same

For me on any day

Now it’s time to say

Now it’s time to say goodbye

Impostor Syndrome

VERSE 1

Raindrops on my window, I’ll stay home today

No point in getting wet when I go out and play

No point in getting off my comfortable mattress

If I stay in bed, I can’t be hated by the masses

Putting fingers to keyboard is career suicide

If I fuck up once, then nobody’s on my side

Impostor Syndrome is burying my body alive

No dreams to pursue, no need to really strive

CHORUS 1

Maybe my inner critic has a damn good point

Maybe my answers are traveling an empty void

Maybe this little song is just cacophonic noise

Impostor Syndrome, like I really have a choice

VERSE 2

“Too offensive, too dense, too ugly, too fat

Too young, too stupid, too this, too that

Too many mistakes, don’t you ever learn?

Not enough achievements, nothing to earn”

CHORUS 1

Maybe my inner critic has a damn good point

Maybe my answers are traveling an empty void

Maybe this little song is just cacophonic noise

Impostor Syndrome, like I really have a choice

BRIDGE

“Don’t you cry, you brought this on yourself

All your life’s work will never leave the shelf

What life’s work? Oh yeah, you don’t have any

How many years did you waste? Too damn many”

CHORUS 2

Maybe my inner critic is teaching me a lesson

Maybe my outer critics should be holding weapons

Maybe the universe has come to collect the rent

Impostor Syndrome a.k.a. the never-ending debt

Impostor Syndrome a.k.a. the reason I’m dead

WHISPERY DIALOGUE

Shh…Shh…It’s okay

Everything will be okay

You just fell down a rabbit hole again

You’re still mourning

You have to make peace with the past

And the present

And the future

Everything will be okay

I promise you

I love you

I always will

Spice

VERSE 1

Yelling with no reason for yelling

Not enough showing, too much telling

Salty for the sake of being salty

Argument falls apart, too faulty

You have to know when to surrender

When to stop playing the role of defender

Not every hill is worth dying on

Not every shoulder is worth crying on

CHORUS

Spice! Spice! So nice we did it twice!

Really no difference between fire and ice

Spice! Spice! Aggressively entice!

Reward their loyalty like laboratory mice

Spice! Spice!

Spice! Spice!

VERSE 2

Say you’re sorry, it’s all they need

The best advice for you to heed

Too much spice ignites the fire

Too much fighting makes you tire

It’s not a sign of infinite weakness

To know when you’ve been defeated

Ratings aren’t worth all the screaming

Nightmare fuel is what you’re dreaming

CHORUS

Spice! Spice! So nice we did it twice!

Really no difference between fire and ice

Spice! Spice! Aggressively entice!

Reward their loyalty like laboratory mice

Spice! Spice!

Spice! Spice!

BRIDGE

Jalapeno pizza and habanera chicken wings

These are a few of our favorite things

Spicy anger mixed with salty prose

Don’t let these be your lowest lows

VERSE 3

It’s always okay to ask for forgiveness

It’s a beautiful thing to behold and witness

Vulnerability makes heroes of us all

Unlike the endless hunger to assault

EXTENDED CHORUS

Spice! Spice! So nice we did it twice!

Really no difference between fire and ice

Spice! Spice! Aggressively entice!

Reward their loyalty like laboratory mice

Spice! Spice! Even more of it will suffice!

Addicted to the drama like it’s a real vice

Spice! Spice! It’ll all come with a price!

Rolling snake eyes when you throw the dice

Spice! Spice!

Spice! Spice!

Latent Maturity

***LATENT MATURITY***

So…whenever a public figure fucks up beyond belief, it can usually be linked to how old they were at the time it happened. This is especially true when the perpetrator is a teenager and in some cases in their early twenties (not all cases, but some). The younger you are, the more forgivable you are in the eyes of the public. But what about fucking up badly in your later years? Suppose you do something horrible in your late twenties and apologize for it in your thirties or forties? Only then do you not have an easy way out of your predicament.

Whenever a teenager writes horrible fan fiction that accidentally glorifies monstrous behavior, they can be easily forgiven. But if that author was older and allegedly wiser, then the criticisms become harsher. An example of this is Anna Todd, the author of the One Direction romantic fan fiction After. The book got a lot of heat for lionizing abusive relationships, cheating, and overall deplorable behavior. Anna Todd wrote that book’s first draft when she was in her early twenties. Because she should have “known better” at that age, many of the attacks on After were lobbied against her as a person. Is this fair? Does she legitimately not know how the human experience works or is this some part of an evil conspiracy?

As many of you are painfully aware, I have my own experience with writing awful and tone deaf first drafts. Beautiful Monster, anyone? I didn’t figure this out on my own, but the first draft version of Tarja was manipulative as hell and incredibly nosy when it came to being therapeutic to Windham. Yes, you heard that right. Somebody else had to point this out to me. As a bonus to this juicy backstory, I just celebrated my thirty-third birthday when I completed this first draft. As someone with that much life experience, I should have known better than to make Tarja Rikkinen a super-creep. But that’s the thing: I DON’T have a wealth of life experience. I DON’T have a treasure trove of wisdom. In today’s world I’m thirty-four years old and I’m still taking too long to mature.

But when it comes to first drafts, authors should be given as much permission as possible to fuck up badly. First drafts are NEVER perfect when they’re barfed onto the page. Even well-established authors will tell you this. If you see a first draft of a novel and you want to point out mistakes, be forgiving and nonjudgmental. Every author deserves the benefit of the doubt. But the thing with Anna Todd’s book is, from what Book Tubers have said about it, it reads like it never made it past the first draft stage. It has so many typos, so many plot holes, and so many shitty characters. No sane editor would have allowed any of those mistakes to stand. And yet, here we are in 2020 and After not only is a published novel, but a fucking movie. By the way, I’m using the F-bomb as an adjective, but the movie could very well be about the act of fucking.

Here’s my stance on latent maturity. Fucking up badly is not exclusive to any age, whether you’re a teenager, an adult, or shit, let’s extend that to the elder years. My only concern is, did the offender grow as a result of this mistake? Did they change their ways? Did they learn the lessons they were supposed to learn? If the answer to these questions is yes, then that person should be forgiven, provided the crimes committed weren’t overly serious. Donald Trump and Jeffrey Epstein don’t deserve forgiveness. I rest my case.

So if I really do lack the necessary life experience to make rational decisions about my first draft, then why am I a writer? Isn’t wisdom a requirement for being successful in that industry? It is indeed. In fact, I have just enough wisdom to know that I need help crossing the street from time to time. I certainly don’t want to be offensive when I write first drafts, but it does happen and I need people to point this out to me without holding a blade to my throat.

I used to hate criticism so much that I’d reject all of it no matter how reasonable it was. Now that I’ve gained just a little bit of wisdom, I know that criticism is vital to my success as an author. I can’t have a career without it. Does it hurt sometimes? Absolutely. But does the criticism come from a place of love? Hell yeah it does. That’s something we as creative people owe each other: a place of love, forgiveness, and growth. If we’re being judged all the time for our worst mistakes, we’ll never get anything done. That’s not productive in the least.

Beautiful Monster is hardly the most offensive first draft novel I’ve written. In 2018, I wrote two others named Silent Warrior and Incelbordination, both of which are about school life. Because they are first drafts by their very nature and I don’t trust my wisdom one single bit, there are things going on in both of those novels that I don’t know could be offensive as fuck. Is Scott George from Silent Warrior a creep because of who he’s dating? Am I sending the wrong message by having his girlfriend heal him? Did I also create a bratty protagonist that nobody wants to cheer for?

What about Incelbordination? Is Oswald Crow a whiny bitch? Do I overplay the fact that he has dwarfism? Does he have any real dimension to him other than smoking pot, being short, and listening to heavy metal? Is having him pine for romantic love a sexist trope? It’ll be a while before I’m ready to have those two first drafts critiqued. I’ve got my hands full with Beautiful Monster and Emilio & Marigold. And goddamn, do those stories have some SERIOUS fucking problems!

To cap off what is already a very rambling blog entry, I just want to tell each and every one of my dearly beloveds out there to be kind to each other and don’t judge each other too harshly. Does Anna Todd deserve forgiveness? What about E.L. James? Or Stephanie Meyer? Is being naïve really an excuse or is the damage done too overwhelming? These are all reasonable debates that you can have among your friends and audience members. But when you have these debates…please be kind and if necessary, rewind. I’m Garrison Kelly! Until next time, try to enjoy the daylight!

***BEAUTIFUL MONSTER PROGRESS***

I’m certainly taking my sweet time with editing the shit out of my novel. It could be the creative burnout. It could be general tiredness. Or it could be that my slowness has been right all along and that I should take more time to think about how I’m going to fix these longstanding problems. As of this blog entry, I’m getting ready to edit chapter five, where the readers are first introduced to Tarja Rikkinen, the token female mercenary at Shadow Asylum. Or as Commander Rinehart calls her, the “diversity hire”. We know right away that she’s an excellent fighter, but being insanely violent doesn’t necessarily make for a likeable character. She needs something extra. But what will that extra nuance be? Her love for animals? Her penchant for cracking jokes at inappropriate times? Or maybe…Shelly Atwood will invade her thoughts and implore Tarja to…spill her secret! What secret is that? Well, if I told you all, it wouldn’t be a fucking secret! Stay tuned. Or as Lindsey Doe says on You Tube, stay curious!

***QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Love is one of the most intense feelings felt by man; another is hate. Forcing yourself to feel indiscriminate love is very unnatural. If you try to love everyone you only lessen your feelings for those who deserve your love. Repressed hatred can lead to many physical and emotional ailments. By learning to release your hatred towards those who deserve it, you cleanse yourself of these malignant emotions and need not take your pent-up hatred out on your loved ones.”

-Anton LaVey-

Everyone's a Demon

Everyone’s a demon, everyone’s a sinner

Everybody does things that make others shiver

From the tiniest fuck-ups to the nuclear level

Everybody’s cloned from the same old devil

Skeletons invade our most secretive closets

Saying otherwise is bullshit and I will call it

Putting your heroes on the highest pedestal

Will make your disappointment credible

What should we forgive? What should we punish?

A slap on the wrist or an all-out whodunit?

Where should society draw the fucking line?

What would they consider the ultimate crime?

It’s a constant game of limbo, how low will we go?

When crossing the threshold, how will we know?

Everyone’s a demon, everyone’s a mistake

Everyone’s a devil, for Jesus Christ’s sake

Everybody fucks up, some more than others

Few will swear on the graves of their mothers

That they’ve changed into a brand new person

Yet they still live with their crippling curses

To forgive or fuck? That is our only question

Is the answer even worth a minimal mention?

Go ahead and behave how you want to behave

In the end, everybody sleeps in the grave

Everyone’s a demon on their way to hell

I don’t give a shit in case you couldn’t tell

Self-Forgiveness

***SELF-FORGIVENESS***

One of the things you learn about yourself as a creative person is how hard you can be on yourself when you hit near-bottom. Maybe you hate your rough draft so much that it’s food for the paper shredder. Maybe you didn’t meet your deadline quickly enough and things fall to shit. Or if you’re anything like me, the biggest sin you can commit is not getting anything done for a whole day. At the end of that day, what does punishing yourself really do for your productivity? Nothing. In fact, it’s less productive than doing nothing at all. It’s counterproductive!

Learning self-forgiveness for your creative “sins” is a skill that needs to be sharpened by all artists at some point. Some days are productive and you can pump out entire novels in one day. Some days are slow and sluggish and all you want to do is nap. For the latter of those two days, even if the reasons for being exhausted are legitimate, there’s always a negative voice telling you to “suck it up” or whatever other tough love phrase comes to mind. Hell, one of the ways I try to wake myself up for the day is by slapping myself in the face. It doesn’t actually do anything; it’s just unnecessary physical pain.

If you have a mental illness like me, self-forgiveness is more important than ever. Punishing yourself can be a symptom of this illness and it’ll only make you feel more depressed than before. Just because the world can’t see your illness, doesn’t mean it isn’t there. It could be the medication making you tired. It could be the illness itself. It could be a hermit lifestyle. It could be a fucked up sleep schedule. Whatever it is, something is weighing you down and it’s okay to admit it. Part of learning to forgive yourself is acknowledging that you have a problem to begin with. Pushing it down until it festers isn’t “manly” or “macho”. In fact, opening up takes a lot of strength in and of itself.

Yes, I admit that it can be hard to open up and admit your worries whenever you see authors out there professing that you must write X number of pages a day or X number of letters or words. While that can be good advice at times, it’s also important that they’re not hard-and-fast rules. There’s no one definition for what a writing goal should be because every author is different. What works for one author won’t work for another. If an author is mentally ill like I am, then writing X number of words/letters per day is damned near impossible. If you need to take it easy on yourself, then don’t feel shame for it.

Even Chris Brecheen (the admin of Writing About Writing) knows how important self-care is. Yes, he posts memes on Face Book almost every day saying some form of “You Should Be Writing”. He’s not doing it to be malicious or arrogant. He’s doing it because he wants his readership to succeed. But even Mr. Brecheen knows that certain factors can get in the way of doing so, mental illness being chief among them. He admits to not being an expert on the topic of mental illness, but his empathy speaks volumes when he’s giving his warmhearted advice to depressed writers. I fucking love this guy. I really do.

One of the things Chris tells the mentally ill people who ask him questions about word limits is that there are no set limits. It’s part of the reason why he hates NaNoWriMo, because writing 1,667 words a day is unrealistic and it can wear on an author’s psyche. Maybe the word count should only be a few sentences. Maybe it’s somewhere below five hundred. The point is, do only what you can manage. As long as you’re doing something, you’re sharpening your skills. And if you don’t do something for that day, don’t beat yourself up over it. Try again tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after. And the day after. Eventually you’ll have a good day and be a writing machine.

If you want to write a quirky Face Book post, do that. If you want to write a letter to someone, do that too. If you just want to write a Tumbler or Twitter post, that’ll make your writing strong too. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Writing is a long and arduous process that takes time. It shouldn’t be bogged down by unrealistic goals and limits. Who knows? Maybe fame and fortune isn’t the answer after all for some people. It doesn’t have to be. And that’s okay. We have comfort zones for a reason. While it feels nice to step outside every once and a while, overwhelming yourself is only going to lead to more guilt and more depressive pain.

If you have a creative person in your life and he or she is feeling down, don’t judge that person. Lend a helping hand. Squeeze their shoulders. Ruffle their hair. Help them with their chores. Do whatever you have to do to keep that person from spiraling downward. Self-forgiveness isn’t just some “pseudo new age BS”. It’s something we all have to do eventually. The lack of self-forgiveness in the mentally ill can actually lead to suicide in some cases. I remember when I first started having schizophrenic symptoms in 2002. My head voices affected my work rate to where I wanted to kill myself. I got the help I needed and I’m a better person for it. Granted, I still have days where all I want to do is nap and be lazy. Then again, lazy days are a part of the human experience. It’s not weakness. It’s pain.

I’m still learning how to forgive myself for my least productive days. Like I said, it’s a skill that needs to be practiced every waking day. But just like the writing process itself, moving along slowly is better than standing still. Although I will never threaten suicide again, it’s still important for me and all of the writers out there to take good care of ourselves. You can do this. You can conquer. You’ve got this! I’m Garrison Kelly! Even when you feel like dying, keep climbing the mountain! Man, those Three Days Grace lyrics never felt more important than they do now.

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“It’s such a rainy afternoon. No point in going anywhere. The sounds just drift across my room. I wish this feeling I could share. It’s such a rainy afternoon. She sits and gazes from her window. Her mind tries to recall his face. The feeling deep inside her grows.”

-Snippet from “The Actor” by The Moody Blues-

Dumb Ass Shit

***DUMB ASS SHIT***

One of the things we share as human beings is a tendency to make mistakes, especially during our younger years when we’re just figuring out the world. To put it in harsher terms, we’ve all said and done…say it with me…dumb ass shit. Nobody is immune to this, because nobody is perfect. As long as you don’t cross the Moral Event Horizon (rape, murder, etc.), you’re entitled to make these little mistakes that you can learn from. If you’ve ever watched a Young Turks video where they’re discussing a teenaged subject, you’ll notice that the pundits can be forgiving of them because they too said and did…say it again…dumb ass shit when they were younger.

Yes, it’s true, ladies and gentlemen: I too have a history of saying and doing dumb ass shit, especially as it relates to the internet. I’ve looked back at some of the things I’ve posted on my Deviant Art, Blogger, and Face Book accounts and I wonder what the hell I was thinking. I could just delete these posts, but seeing as how there are so fucking many of them, it’ll take more time than I care to spend. Many of the things I’ve posted could be construed as bigoted in some way, though my intentions were only to be “edgy” or “funny”. I just read a nonfiction essay I wrote in 2009 called “Class of ‘13” where I accuse teenagers of being text-messaging queens that need strict discipline. Holy shit, did I really expect people to laugh at that? What about Hardcore Harry, a Harry Potter parody where the main character says he’s afraid of Draco Malfoy’s “homosexual urges”. Shaking my head, folks. Shaking my head.

Apparently, it took me a long time for me to mature throughout the years, because I’ve been saying dumb shit in 2014 as well. My blogger.com posts at the time were riddled with depressing anecdotes about songs that made me cry or romantic couples in fiction that made me wish I had love too. One of my now deleted books, Foe vs. Blade, has an introductory chapter where I list off all of the major bad shit that’s happened in my life from high school until the date of publication. It wasn’t until 2015 that I started posting about positive things in my life and, surprise, surprise, I became a happier person because of it. I knew Rhonda Byrne’s book would come in handy someday.

So, I don’t know if you the audience plan on digging through my internet postings, but if you see something buried beneath the happy and accepting stuff that could be construed as “dumb ass shit”, know that I am no longer proud of such things. Being “edgy” isn’t nearly as important as being intelligent and wise. Even the edgiest of edgy artists have to have a reason for their R-rated jokes. I’ve said and done my fair share of stupid shit in my life and I’ve learned from all of it. This is not a cheap attempt at obtaining forgiveness, but if I keep kicking myself over these things, then I’m forever stuck in the past. We can all grow from our mistakes and become decent people.

I figured writing this blog would be easier than going through my internet history and wiping it clean of…say it again…dumb ass shit. But even if I was able to give my internet history the Mr. Clean treatment, there’s that old adage of things being on the internet forever. So instead, I’m going to say this: I’m sorry for all the dumb ass shit. It’s not me, it’s not who I want to be, and it’s not important to my career. Let’s move forward. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***POISON TONGUE TALES 2: THE RIGHT TO REMAIN PSYCHOTIC***

As long as we’re on the topic of dumb ass shit, here’s something I attempted months ago, but never got off the ground. It’s called “Hardcore Hogan” (not to be confused with “Hardcore Harry”) and it goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

1. Garrison Kelly, Captured Earthling
2. Hardcore Hogan, Garrison’s Alter Ego
3. Kasabian, Alien Lord
4. Random Squid-Faced Alien Warriors

PROMPT CONFORMITY: To be announced.

SYNOPSIS: Garrison wakes up one day and finds himself in an alien ship’s prison cell. He has no idea what he’s doing there, but when he tries to shake the bars and complain, he gets electrocuted by the guards. Just when he is about to give in, he finds the Hall of Fame ring of his favorite professional wrestler Hardcore Hogan in the corner of the cell. When Garrison puts the ring on, he transforms into the muscular wrestler and puts a beating on the aliens after ripping the bars off the cell door. Kasabian serves as his final enemy and the only person who could possibly explain why Garrison/Hogan is on this ship to begin with.

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“There are some large groups out there whose names are a little mixed up. The Department of Water and Power. Well, water and power don’t go together, ‘cause you’ll get fucking electrocuted. Then you have the Food and Drug Administration. Well, with most drugs, you don’t have any food, except for marijuana, but they shouldn’t be bothering people with marijuana to begin with. And then you have that really interesting organization, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. Do I even have to discuss this one? Bad combination. Here’s what you do. You call the police the Department of Power and Firearms. Then you have the Food and Water Administration. Those are two things you need to survive: food and water. And then you have the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Drugs, which keeps all the good shit in one place.”

-George Carlin-

I Apologize

VERSE 1

Assassins live by a code of silence

Leave no trace of forensic science

Leave behind a trail of violence

Escape the sounds of police sirens

Weapon of choice isn’t a knife or gun

Motive isn’t the thrill of the hunt

Vicarious visions the camera caught

All I did was sit back and watch

CHORUS

I apologize for not being your savior

I apologize for being your traitor

All I had to do was speak my mind

But another innocent got left behind

VERSE 2

You’re all grown up and standing tall

You just can’t wait for your next brawl

Lashing out at everyone in sight

Someone’s going to the hospital tonight

It’s too late to recapture innocence

It’s too late to close the distance

It’s too late to give you your love

You fought like a hawk, slew all the doves

CHORUS

I apologize for not being your savior

I apologize for being your traitor

All I had to do was speak my mind

But another innocent got left behind

VERSE 3

If I could, I’d hug you tightly forever

Tell you it’s okay and never say never

Tell you I’m sorry for shutting my mouth

I’m sorry for taking the easy way out

You won’t forgive me for my deadly sins

You threw my apology in the garbage bin

I can’t blame you for even a short second

Silence is an assassin’s favorite weapon

EXTENDED CHORUS

I apologize for not being your savior

I apologize for being your traitor

All I had to do was speak my mind

But another innocent got left behind

I apologize for leaving you for dead

I apologize for the trauma in your head

I apologize for the monster you’ve become

The pain is now yours to sooth and numb

FINAL LINE

I’m sorry…