Then, Josh and Katie picked me up, and we drove to the Ohio State Fair. We saw some stuff, most notably a chainsaw artist carving a bear from a log, with botox lips, a mohawk, fins from its chin and strange legs. Katie swears it was actually a fish, but I was intent on seeing him carve a bear, so I just know that's what it was. Josh tried to convince me to eat a fried PB&J, but I went for a gyro instead. It wasn't worth $6, but it was still good; maybe worth $4 or so, at the most. We saw a lot of random crap people were selling in their various booths, and we also "walked the line" with beer goggles on. The trick is to look straight ahead, zone out and just step forward, heel-to-toe, with trust in your natural walking abilities. Josh wanted to ride only one ride there, and it was closed.
After the fair, we went to dinner at Buca di Beppo along with Drew, Josh Gulvas, Steve and Jackie, Andrew and Amy, and a couple other friends of Steve. It was sort of a surprise dinner for Steve's birthday in a couple days. Drew, Gulvas and I split the Chicken Parmesan, which at Buca is a huge waste of money. Never get Buca's Chicken Parm. You'll regret spending that much money on something that totally isn't worth that much money.
After dinner and some hilarious conversation/antics, Josh and Katie dropped me off and left to see G.I. Joe. The ride home was spent mostly discussing how awesome (my point of view) and lame (their point of view) the name "The Ceiling Fantastic" is. I love it. I think it's catchy and a clever play on words. I want some more opinions.
Anyway, all this stuff is great, keeping me busy and rather entertained. I truly am enjoying myself in the midst of such things, but being back at home, back in my terribly messy room and feeling overwhelmed by everything I need to do in the next week, I'm feeling rather bitter. I don't actually understand why I'm feeling this way, but bitterness is the best way to describe it.
I cannot seem to finish the music I've been writing. I keep changing the words, I keep striving to make it less cliché, yet still maintain my identity within it. The emotions in these songs are so deep and so dark, and I'm in a place now where I can dredge them up and use what I'm feeling to help create. But nothing ever feels good enough. It all starts to feel the same to me, even among the differences from song to song. It's additionally frustrating to be in my "prime" of creativity (both tired and emotionally fragile), yet still unable to produce.
My room is a mess, like the state I'm in, and busy-ness is all I see coming in the next week. Please pray for my endurance and peace and joy in this, as those will be pushed the most.
The Flower Kings - Adam & Eve