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it was all black and white

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patches and plans [Mar. 18th, 2008|01:33 pm]
it was all black and white
There are holes in everything you own. The realization that everything you hold close in some vague form of ownership being ruined changes a lot about a person. The longer you go on mending old clothes, replacing those radiator lines, getting water in that huge hole in your shoes for the sixtieth time this week, the longer you realize you can hold out. When you found out it was as simple as patching the holes you found out how strong you really were and you kept going. You didn't have any of their money, that one thing that keeps them breathing, and you kept going even after the swore within an inch of everything sacred that you had to have it to get by.

What was more impressive was when you realized that this is what you'd been talking about all along. When you two were sixteen and scared out of your minds screaming and beating those instruments trying to get through to everyone and tell them "Its on! Its time to go! We are not safe anymore!" you were telling them to find the holes and fix them, you were telling yourself to find the holes in the fabric and replace them with time and care and productivity. Not the productivity that moved assembly lines, that shipped orders across the country, that sold units, moved shares, but the productivity that renewed and revitalized the fabric as much as it renewed yourself.

It was a long time ago when you started figuring things out, and for all that time still nothing is truly certain. All you know is that just as sure as there are towers and palaces that house those people that will never know this world or walk on these streets that you've made yourself familiar with in every town you've been in since you cast off that fear at sixteen. Those people would never know what it was to have to keep something. Those people would never know that productivity, and you would never know them. They were so distant at the top of their success that you thought them as imaginary as the borders, the embargoes, the sanctions, the law. They were all part of some vast Circus Maximus, designed to pull a veil over your eyes and every pair of eyes that you ever loved.

At the same time you saw friends and people you truly cared for or admired trapped by their spell. You saw people who had once had voices and fists be silent and passive. Others turned to fight for the enemy, some died, and still some simply would lay down and ignore the ongoing battles for want of nothing other than comfort away from danger, for anything beyond fear. And you stood in that plaza, or in that bedroom, on that street corner, on top of that parking garage, at that playground wondering the same question that had kept you stirring in bed for years, "How can you sleep at night?"

Desolation row never seemed so quiet as that night you ran away from what may as well have been a burning house where you lost your memories and heirlooms, where literally your history would burn away gently in the cool of the night. You counted those names and those friends in every town...Chicago, Memphis, New Orleans, Houston, Austin, Tulsa, Conway, Cleveland, Birmingham, Pensacola, Tampa, Athens, Washington, Baltimore, Trenton, Philadelphia, Boston...

All that seems so far away from Christmas morning when you were young, all that seems so far away from dads truck and cane fields and Willie Nelson leaking sweetly from that tiny speaker. All that seems far from the land you came from and who you were supposed to be, from what you'd learned about growing someday to be a "good man" and what you could someday do to fulfill "God's plan". But what you took from that was caught up in the distortion and the urethane wheels on the concrete. All you took from there were the thoughts of making "good plans."

And plans you made, when you found out that accomplishing goals was as simple as that. You practically had to build it yourself, but you made two legs to walk on and walked with your toes digging furrows in the ground. You made it to the end of each one of those fucked up years, each time it got its darkest you would just think "In a few months we can sing of how we made it this far together."

And so you walked down the street and you thought of some words to keep singing.
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(no subject) [Feb. 15th, 2008|01:20 pm]
it was all black and white
Blind man running through the light of the night
With an answer in his hand,
Come on down to the river of sight
And you can really understand,
Red lights flashing through the window in the rain,
Can you hear the sirens moan?
White cane lying in a gutter in the lane,
If you're walking home alone.

Don't let it bring you down
It's only castles burning,
Just find someone who's turning
And you will come around.
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grease and smoke [Feb. 13th, 2008|07:31 pm]
it was all black and white
trying times, trying times.
i hope you're not all getting caught in the desolation.
i hope there's a little fight left in you.
i hope there's some in me too.
i miss my family. i think about my mom a lot. my dads mom, my grandmother died last month. that wasn't easy.
and the rain probably hasn't even come yet.

no shit, this man told me once that a flood is going to wipe the empire off the map one day. he said america was rome and that he didn't know if we'd see the flood but he could feel the raindrops. no shit. this man worked a regular 40 hour a week job as a security guard. he was a normal man and he felt the same way that i did. so since then i started getting ready for that flood, that big collapse. i might be crazy, and you probably shouldn't worry, but if you're feeling the same way i wish you luck.

i'm pretty tired. these are trying fucking times.
i'll be ok. i hope you'll be ok.
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(no subject) [Feb. 12th, 2008|06:39 pm]
it was all black and white
fucking worship the devil,
and stay punk
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hungry and tired and mad as all hell [Dec. 24th, 2007|09:07 am]
it was all black and white
old people are fucking wack.
tour was bad ass.
christmas is weird.
girls have been acting fucking CRAZY.
sarah lear called me last night so i should probably call her back sometime soon.
i'm just kind of thinking out loud here. i haven't had too much time to get to a computer lately. i've worked every day since we got home.

i haven't heard this song in a long time, but there's a line in it where he says "we struggled all our lives but the rewards were great."and i think since i've heard this song its kind of been a reminder of things like that when its time to pick my head up. its been hard to do that lately, but i want to. i dont want to waste away or even worse, stagnate. maybe when i get through this i'll be able to do better at the things i want to do. i'll admit its hard to be productive when i've been this frustrated.

i was high at this christmas party around a bunch of people who think they know everything about the world because they're older and so i must not know anything because i'm younger. you know how that works. but this dude told me that i shouldn't be so jaded at my age, but then he said,

"You might be right. I guess the world we're living in now is one where its easy for young people to get bitter. Its getting harder to tell is the world has a future."
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pessimism at the worlds end [Dec. 2nd, 2007|10:58 am]
it was all black and white
i cant stop thinking that this is the worst things have ever been. it seems impossible, but my senses are corrupted by an unyielding negativity that i can't seem to break no matter how hard i try. i've given up the desire to improve my condition. i'm lonely. i'm dead tired. no one really seems to care, much less reach out to help. every day i deal with the fact that everything i do is completely inherent. i live my life in the way that i do because i've been doing it for so long. simply put, this is all i've ever known. and so i've become so bitter that i lash out at everyone who pisses me off even slightly. it makes me miserable. i'm not that smiling kid anymore. i'm not the kid who tried to bring people together, i don't want to save the world or anyone in it. i'm not content. i'm hurt. things are very very bad and i don't have the energy or the knowledge of how to make it better right now. i just don't know where to go from here.
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HORNETS NEST (my life is a constant direct action part 2) [Nov. 25th, 2007|09:51 am]
it was all black and white
I've been trying to be proud of myself lately, trying to gather my accomplishments and look at them all and say to myself "These are good things that I have done and I have reason to feel accomplished." I have a new job and I make better money but I've never believed thats any reason to feel successful, so what do I have?

I've been through some ridiculous shit in the few years I've been alive. Its stupid. I've done some stupid things. I've battled drug addiction, domestic abuse, heartbreak, I've had the shit kicked out of me, I've spent scary lonely nights hiding in parking lots, sleeping in my car just to not be a burden on anyone else. My friends and I have a catchphrase, a mantra of sorts; "Just trying to live." I've got survival down to a science. I never get too in over my head. I'm not trying to survive, I don't need to. I'm trying to accept the fact that I am surviving and I have to make the best of that. In that, I have to share my successes with others. I have to manage my time and energy responsibly to create better situations for others. I have to live my life like it matters, and realize that my actions could inspire others to do better. I have to try to inspire people to change and save the world, its an obligation to me. Knowing this is easy to bear, but sometimes its so hard to try to do.

I realize lately that I've been doing this punk rock thing for a long time. I can't imagine my life without it. I wouldn't be the person I am right now without it, and I am still actively participating in something that at best is the most incredible force on earth, and at worse the opposite in a spectrum of hope vs. hopelessness. I'm learning more about "hope" and what it means to me. I want to abandon hope. Hope seems to be a misguided attempt at putting faith in something that is literally just a word. I can do better than hope. I can do action. It started when I was seven years old, minor threat and skateboards and here we are all these years later still screaming, still trying...

I have friends that love me and I give them everything that I can give. I would not be alive without them and they help me make it through the fire every single day. I miss the ones that are far away, I love them all old and new. I've been fucked and betrayed and had everything completely thrown away and turned upside down. I have friends that have seen me nearly at my worst and still stand with me. At the same time I'm learning to be more independent and to stand on my own two feet, to fly with my own wings.

I'm still growing, still learning, getting better at practicing what I preach to some extent. Sometimes it feels like I'm saving the world. Sometimes it feels like I just get stoned and sit around all the time. Sometimes I'm scared as hell, most of the time I know its going to be alright.
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(no subject) [Nov. 16th, 2007|04:00 am]
it was all black and white
i walked through a fire and did not get burned
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GO HOME (or My life is a continuous direct action part 1) [Nov. 4th, 2007|08:44 am]
it was all black and white
I'm lonely as hell. its kind of chilly outside and cold in my house. i talked to sarah last night for the first time in a while, who may be the only person i've sincerely had undiluted romantic completely non-physical (maybe not completely) emotions for in over a year. her voice is pleasant and safe to me. i'm so scared to pursue something with this girl, besides the fact that we've only met once and she lives in Georgia. i'm irresponsible, and i don't even know if i'm capable of loving someone on the level that i want to love this person. its weird how i learn to care for people. i think i'm initially a pretty cold emotional person and it takes a lot these days for me to get close to people. it never used to be this way. i think years ago i spread myself too thin, and over time as i kept spreading i kept getting hurt and ultimately i became sort of shut off to love and concepts of beauty. some things remained beautiful, but i feel at times that even my closest friends, even my best friend left me out to dry at one point. its hard for me to give myself away now. not for fear of being hurt as much as just hurting others in the way i have been. i already did that to her. its so hard to explain these kinds of things to people.

its been pretty dark at times this year. i don't know if it can hold a candle to last year. these last few years have been insane. ridiculous. i've traveled, i've played shows with my favorite bands, i've eaten delicious meals in wonderful places amongst wonderful friends. i've been abandoned by my friends and lovers numerous times. i lost hope. i lost hope in punk rock at one point even. punk rock, the one thing that has always been constant and beautiful to me i put on pause and almost left behind entirely. it can be the most intensely amazing thing on earth. it can be the most abrasive waste of time in history.

last night tyler, miguel, and i were sitting at the bar at louie's talking about our abusive fathers, fucked up childhoods, and how all of this made us into the men we are right now. our fathers were good men who made mistakes maybe? we all hated them at one point. i couldn't and would not be alive without my dad right now. its miserable to think about everything that we've gone through just to get to this point. would we be the same people if not for all these trials?

my birthday is coming up soon. i've always hated my birthdays. last year was fun because i was in pensacola with my friends on tour. this year i'm scared of it. i don't know...its been a fucked up year and my birthday is always a time of intense reflection. whitney and robyn have been talking about doing something for my birthday. i think i'd like it and i'd have fun. i wonder if michael will come down around that time? i miss him and i think he knows it.

i wonder if all these things that have been adding up in me have been released at all by doing this journal entry. its really depressing and i'm sorry for that. i'm daniel hyde, i'm the most erratic, paranoid, depressed, positive, energetic, smiling, screaming kid you've ever met and i don't know how to be happy and i don't know how to be lonely but i think at times that i've mastered just being here and making the best of it. i hope if you see me i can share that with you.

add engulfed in flame to the list of ways we know i can't die. i'll be here a while.
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(no subject) [Nov. 1st, 2007|04:26 am]
it was all black and white
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HR_1955
read this please. its about the Violent Radicalization and Homegrown Terrorism Prevention Act of 2007.

its going to get worse before it ever gets better.
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