Track #4 - what are we supposed to do now that we've wasted our youth?

OK folks, here is the final blog about this record. I promise I won’t keep talking about it. Well, I will but it won’t be the only thing I talk about. There’s a lot going on these days in ol’ Bradley Wik’s head, especially since there isn’t a lot going on anywhere else. Hell, this might not even be the only EP I record during these coronavirus times. Not announcing anything yet, but we’ll see. Not playing shows and not leaving the house is starting to wear on me. Like all of you, I’m starting to go stir crazy but if staying home is the worst this gets for me, I’ll feel pretty damn good about that. Besides, I found one of my new favorite TV shows (“What We Do in the Shadows”) and am finally catching up on another (“Killing Eve”). So, swings and roundabouts. Also, I made a delicious chicken and artichokes with cream sauce the other night, so yay for getting creative in the kitchen. Wait, what the hell am I talking about? Oh yeah, music. Read below, I’m tired…

“what are we supposed to do now that we’ve wasted our youth?”

we traded our bodies for stories

that we could tell our friends

every night might have been a journey

but we always knew just how it would end

what are we supposed to do now that we’ve wasted our youth?

there’s no need for goodbyes

we never really met

moments of truth flashed in your eyes

but we both knew better than to believe any words we said

what are we supposed to do now that we’ve wasted our youth?

there was no great reward

no revelations to find

so we poisoned our bodies

to forget the best years of our lives

what are we supposed to do now that we’ve wasted our youth?

Music Notes:

The longest song on this record still only has like ⅓ the amount of lyrics as a typical song of mine. This song is last on the album but was the first song written for the record. Some of the parts on this song were recorded two years ago. As this song is the final piece, it had to be grand enough to close the record but still be intimate and ruminative amongst the chaos. This noise (which can happen when you combine too much alcohol and Meniere’s disease. Meniere’s, which I have, is an inner ear disorder which can cause hearing loss, vertigo, tinnitus, nausea depending on the severity of the attack. This type of noise would come from a really bad one...), though it still contains various melodies, is a type of sound bed (if that makes sense) that I’ve long wanted to build upon. I weaved together up to 5 different melodies/harmonies at one point to create the foundation for this song. I also wanted to put myself and the simple, plaintive beauty of the song at odds with the noise. It’s why the vocal and guitar are recorded together through one mic. I did this for each song, to present myself alone, fighting against the music/chaos/noise coming from my own head and/or the outside world, which my Asperger’s wouldn’t allow me to be a part of. I’m always on the outside looking in. Recording that way makes it a little harder, but it was the only way I could get it to sound how I wanted it. I want you to feel like you are sitting across from me as I sing. You don't hear guitars and vocals separately in real life, you hear them all together. If you focus solely on the guitar/vocal in this song, at least for me, it’s almost like those old Magic Eye books where the chaos slowly disappears and the picture comes into focus. There’s beauty in the struggle. Sometimes, at least.

Anyways, a whole record like this song would be tough to swallow and would lessen the effect. A couple of the other tracks (and one of the tracks that did not make the cut for this record) had a similar sound/noise which I removed. It didn’t build the record the way the songs should, culminating with the beautiful chaos of this song. The record, as alcohol is referenced in the title, is supposed to simulate getting fucked up throughout. The first song has little accompaniment and sounds very clean and open. The second song has a bigger sound, let’s say this is after two drinks, and a driving energy. The sound is full and constant. Things are feeling good at this point. You needed a couple to really get things going. The third song, we’ll say after four or five drinks, is a bit more sparse. It still has a good rhythm but you’re starting to go down into the backside of the night. You alternate between getting quiet and yell-talking to people. The alcohol is starting to make that turn from fun to making you sad. You’re glad your friends are still out and you tell them how much they mean to you. The last song is the end of the night, however many drinks is way too many for you. It is meant to sound chaotic, ears buzzing from the alcohol and the noise (and the Meniere’s, if you’re like me), vision blurred after stumbling home. It’s quiet in your lonely apartment but it’s not quiet in your head. You’re at that sentimental, way-too-drunk part of the night and you wonder why you do this to yourself all the time. You don’t want to anymore but you know you still will. You have one more, why not at this point, and put on some music to fall asleep to. You know the words by heart but it sounds all distorted and angry. It doesn’t matter, the alcohol has taken over and your eyes get heavy. There’s a strange comfort in this moment, as the music softly fades while you slowly fade off to sleep.

Story Notes:

As I mentioned above, this song was the first one written for this record and contains all the themes I would explore throughout the other three songs. Thematically/lyrically, I wanted to build towards this one so I told smaller, vignette-like stories in some of the other songs. They all collide in these 4 minutes and 44 seconds (4 is my favorite number thanks to Brett Favre, but it actually is coincidental that this album ended with a song that was 4:44. I always close my eyes when I mark the fade outs and that’s just where it landed. That there are 4 songs on this record is also coincidental. I started with 6 and narrowed it down based on fit, function and story. The way I put together records is very intentional. Each song has to have a purpose, move the story forward and fit sonically into what I’m trying to achieve. I could talk about my reasons/theories behind putting albums together for hours but this is about this song and this parenthetical notation is already too long…). This song is meant to sort of reflect on the events of the prior three songs. Both the song and the title are the longest on the record. As in a lot of my songs, there is no conclusion to this song, it’s just an open ended, semi-rhetorical question. Life doesn’t often offer closure, and rarely offers guidance. And when I was going through the thick of what made its way into these songs, I wouldn’t have heeded any advice anyways. All I wanted was to be understood and not feel alone. I wanted to know I wasn’t alone in wasting so many of my “good” years. It’s a very specific brand of hopelessness that you feel when you're 24 years old. You’re ostensibly too young to feel hopeless and that makes it all the worse. It’s a weird cycle to get into and a very hard one to get out of, since you feel like shit all the time. “What’s the point? You’re a stupid piece of shit anyways…” is what you tell yourself every day. And, part of you feels like Rob in High Fidelity, “it’s brilliant, being depressed; you can behave as badly as you like.” Which is terrible advice as that just feeds back into the whole monster once again.

There’s also a lot of Asperger’s in this song. In addition to the hopelessness and apathy, there’s the distinct notion that this is all temporary and it’s best to save our emotions for another adventure. I remember having this feeling more than a couple times throughout my life. I can’t speak for the other person in the “relationship” but I would venture to guess they felt the same based on their actions. Having Asperger’s, I was never really the Tinder meet up-type. I felt more at home in comfort/routine of long term relationships so it was hard for me to pretend I cared much about these types of things. I sort of fell backwards into these sexual interactions being the (cliched) hard-partying-and-troubled-but-with-a-sensitive-side singer of a Rock N’ Roll band. Although, I seriously doubt many found my shenanigans charming once the hangover hit the next morning. Sometimes, it didn’t even take that long. I have a pretty clear memory (surprising for that time in my life) of sitting in a hot tub next to a girl who went on and on about how much she hated the awful guy who was the singer from the band they saw earlier, too drunk to realize that was me. I listened, got up, left, and thought it was funny at the time, not realizing how much of a dick I had become. I think some people are attracted to that don’t-give-a-fuck mentality (which was sometimes the Asperger’s and sometimes me just being an asshole) but, unfortunately for me, that just made me not care even more, even about myself. I don’t really regret any of it (I don’t feel like wasting energy on things I can’t change), but I definitely could have been kinder to myself, my liver and those around me during that time, that’s for sure.

You see, I’ve always sort of had that writer’s spirit and wanted to dive in headfirst to most things in life. I came to rethink that years later after realizing that was also a great way to drink away your depression for as long as possible before blowing your head off with a shotgun. There was nothing to be gained from diving into drinking, drugs and depression. But, I was young and thought it might be “cool.” I wanted the scars, and I got ‘em. Both literally and figuratively. Making this record has been kind of tough on me as I’ve had to revisit this older version of myself. I had to climb back into this fucked up brain. I had to picture myself going through these things all over again. Once the songs were done, I could use my Asperger’s to just tell myself it was another person, a different chapter, it’s not me anymore and all that, but while I was writing and recording, I had to live in that world. I had to be them once again.

While I was beginning to mix the record, I noticed an issue and was going to have to re-record one of the guitar/vocal parts (since, as I mentioned, they were recorded together). Redoing a synth part, no problem, just focus on the task at hand, hit the right notes and get it done. But, the vocals require performance. I have to feel everything (and sing/play guitar to a click track since the synths were programmed/played right, or very close to, on time, also not my favorite). Since mentally I thought I was done tracking, I almost had an anxiety attack and shut down for an entire day. I just did crossword puzzles and compulsively read about coronavirus. I didn’t want to do it. I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to sing anymore. Obviously, I did it and it all turned out alright, but that’s what it was like making this record.

So, if what you’ve read about above has interested you and you’d like to purchase/donate to the cause, there are a few options:

1. Go to https://bradleywik.bandcamp.com/. You can stream the record for free or purchase (hint: you can also donate a little extra past the $4, if you like)

2. As I know these are trying times and people could use some entertainment, you can also download the record for FREE (CLICK HERE to access the google drive link with mp3’s of the record) with optional donation to: https://www.paypal.me/bradleywik

-30-

Track #3 - we are not alone

Happy Monday! Well, at least as happy as Monday’s can be these days. Never anyone’s favorite day before, they somehow found a way to be even shittier. So, I guess I take that back and will just say “Fucking Mondays...” But, here is a new post about the song “we are not alone” from my recently released 4 song EP entitled “music for depressed alcoholic autistic people.” If you’re new to the blog, I've been writing about each song off the new record (I also wrote about the record as a whole and why I made it, which you can READ HERE. Spoiler: it’s because I’m a depressed, sometimes alcoholic person who has Asperger’s… But, there is so much more to it, so read it. Also, I’m still not sure why it felt better to write it all lowercase but it did. I have talked to a couple other Asperger’s people and they also have an affinity for lowercase typing, while subsequently hand writing in all uppercase letters like an engineer. I don’t get it either but that’s the way it goes…) . This record has been the most rewarding, challenging, fun yet hardest to listen to project I’ve ever worked on. As I mentioned in the aforementioned blog about the entire record, it’s the only project I’ve made that I still listen to. Again, it’s only been finished for about three weeks, so we’ll see if that development continues, but usually I make it about a week. It’s also the only thing that I’ve done completely by myself, so it literally sounds (almost) exactly how I want it to. Normally, I like to do as little as possible with my records once they’ve been recorded. I’m super hands on when creating, arranging, etc. but once it’s on tape (literally on tape with “In My Youth, I’m Getting Old…”) I try to be as hands off as possible. I never wanted to make myself crazy obsessing over the smallest details until I break my hand punching a wall Tom Petty-style (true story, look it up). I try and let the people I’m paying do their thing and usually only offer one piece of advice, often to my dismay as my singing abilities are limited, especially when recording live takes, which is “turn the vocal up a bit.” Probably should have avoided that on the last album, but when final mix approval comes down to the singer, that’s what you’re gonna get…

Also, if you haven’t checked out one of the Facebook live shows (every Thursday at 8pm EST at: https://www.facebook.com/BradleyWikMusic/), you should. This week’s topic (all shows feature live performances plus a deep dive into a topic related to my music) is: how Asperger’s affects my songwriting and storytelling. Also, to do even more online shows, I have signed up for Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/bradleywikmusic/ or search @bradleywikmusic or however the fuck that works) as some venues are hosting online shows via Instagram live. I know, it’s fucking weird to see ol’ Bradley on the social medias but these are fucking weird times we live in and I hate not performing. So, even if it’s to my limited online audience, as the Facebook and Instagram are still new to me, I’d rather be on there playing than not. I’ll probably also be popping on to make some (not) funny jokes, some (actually good) music recommendations, amongst other things.

But, enough of that shit, let’s listen to and talk about some depressing ass music!

“we are not alone”

“wait” was the last word i heard you say

before i locked the door and walked away

i drank til i was numb

that’s when i felt the blood

“love” is just a broken word for both of us

and “hope” was just never quite enough

i drank til i was numb

that’s when i felt the blood

i can’t tell if i am real

this is the only thing i can feel

but i am not alone

you are not alone

we are not alone

we are not alone…

Music Notes:

This song, to me, always sounded like a depressed people’s anthem so I wanted the production to follow that line of thinking. I just loved the idea of a crowd full of people screaming “we are not alone” at full throat. Although, that line does always make me think of the movie “Airheads” with Adam Sandler, Steve Buscemi and Brendan Fraser. In the movie, their band name is “the Lone Rangers.” After they break into a radio station demanding they get some airplay, the DJ makes fun of them for pluralizing “the Lone Ranger.” They can’t be “lone” if there’s more than one. Maybe “we” can’t technically be alone but I know there are people out there who feel alone and don’t know that there are so many other people feeling the exact same things they are. We are together in our alone-ness, and even more so these days. I wanted this song to be one that people would play for and with each other, so I wanted to make this one a little more “fun” to listen to. Or, at least more “fun” than your typical song about depersonalization. I wanted it to have a sort of groove, which is why it has a very steady bass line and the “snare” on the 2’s and 4’s the entire song. When I play it live, I usually play it quicker and a little more manic, with the tempo and volume shifting as I feel that night. But here, it felt better to be a little more steady and something you could nod your head to. Or dance to, if you’re a little masochistic, like me.

Story Notes:

So, here’s the-grocery-store-was-closed-so-I-had-to-stab-my-arms-to-know-that-I-was-real-song. What? I know… Here’s a little more context.

I’ve read a few articles recently which finally connected some dots for me. Medication has always been a strange thing for me. It never seems to do the thing it’s supposed to do. Now, I know that is likely caused by my Asperger’s, which makes sense. My brain is not wired the same as most people’s, so it makes sense that chemicals would also affect me in different ways as well. When my Meniere’s Disease (an inner-ear disorder affecting hearing, balance, vision, etc.) was first starting to get bad, I was traveling and at a hotel about four hours from home. After a sleepless night, I finally made my way to an urgent care. They looked at me for about three minutes and determined (guessed, don’t even get me started on how much doctors have fucked me up over the years… Thank you for not getting me started…) it was bad congestion, possible ear infection. They prescribed Robitussin for the congestion and seasick patches to help with the dizziness and nausea. I put one of the patches on and within about twenty minutes the vertigo was beginning to subside. Not completely, but to the point where I could actually suck down some Gatorade and eat a few pieces of peanut butter bread. About an hour later I was starting to fall asleep. Awesome, I hadn’t slept for about 40 hours so this was good. I took out my contacts, laid down and grabbed my phone. BUT, I soon realized I had lost my near-sightedness. When my phone was within six inches of my face, I couldn’t read a thing; which was terrifying. You see, I’m near-sighted. I wear contacts because I usually can’t read anything that’s six inches or more from my face. I put my glasses on, no change. I ripped the patch off and about three or four hours later my vision returned. I checked the box, no mention of loss of vision as a side effect. They also stuck me on blood pressure pills to lower the blood flow to the ear so it wouldn’t trap fluid so the congestion could dissipate. These pills also caused some very strange side effects not listed on the packaging so I stopped taking all the medication. The problem turned out to be nerve related and some chiropractic work has mostly gotten rid of the issue. Since I have Asperger’s, I’ve learned I should take the doctor’s advice and then do the opposite. That usually works best. I wish that was a joke, but it’s not. I literally do the opposite of whatever they say and that is always what provides me the best relief. Fucking Asperger’s…

So, why am I telling you all this? What the hell does Meniere’s medication have to do with “we are not alone?”

Well, be patient, young padawan, and I’ll tell you. Early in my life, around age 14, I found out that pain medication didn’t affect me in the right way. I didn’t know why yet, but I was well aware it wasn’t quite right. When I went to get my wisdom teeth removed, it took a small horse’s amount of gas to knock me out (I kept rambling about baseball, they tell me). Afterwards, they gave me some vicodin or something similar for the pain. I’d wake up in pain, take a couple pills, then feel sick to my stomach, and still be in the same amount of pain as before. But slowly over the next thirty minutes, I’d realize that even though I still felt the pain acutely, I didn’t care as much. It started to feel like it wasn’t my pain anymore. I didn’t like it so I stopped taking the pills.

Years later, I found out it was true that taking those vicodins (and many other prescription-grade pain pills) with alcohol increased that effect greatly. Take a couple pills with a bottle of wine, and voila, all my physical and mental pain was no longer mine. I was free, unburdened. The problem, of course, is two pills and a bottle of wine turns into two bottles of wine and four or five pills. Which turns into three and six or eight. Suddenly, not only am I not “feeling” my pain and misery, I’m not feeling anything. Some nights, I would sit alone in my apartment and try and figure out whether or not I was actually still real. This is when the depersonalization would kick in. At first, it felt as though my brain was watching my physical body on those lonely nights. My thoughts, feelings, and other cognitive skills were retreating from the physical world but I was still aware of my actual presence. As it progressed, I felt my body slowly disappear as well and suddenly I wasn’t alone in my apartment at all. I wasn’t anything. I was only my thoughts. I felt as if I could go anywhere and do anything. My thoughts alone could take me into other people’s thoughts, where they were usually saying terrible things about me. I heard people say they wish I would give up pretending I could play music, my life was a such fucking waste, that I’m a stupid piece of shit who’s ruining their lives, that I should just hurry up and die already.

Obviously, I doubt I could travel into and through people’s inner thoughts. Likely, those were just my inner voices telling me those things. But, when this would start up, I’d realize I could just go confirm my existence and then I’d start to calm down. I usually did this by going to the grocery store that was a block away from my apartment. I’d go buy a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine and some cheese (I am from Wisconsin, after all…), someone would acknowledge me at the store, ask me if I needed help (I was usually pretty fucked up at this point so I probably looked like I did, in more ways than one) and then I’d head home assured to live another day as a normal, regular old human.

But, one night, and I don’t remember why, I started my night-before-a-day-off drinking routine (which was much more involved than the normal work night routine) a little later. So, by the time I hit that point in the night, the grocery store was already closed. Panicked, I walked to the bodega down the street. Also closed. Not much is open at 2am on a Sunday night (I guess, Monday morning). I returned home, having seen no one on the street. Back at the apartment, I tried to pinch myself. You pinch yourself and you wake up, right? Well, not after wine and pain pills. I punched myself. Better, but not quite enough to jolt me out of this state. So, I resorted to stronger measures…

Someone I used to know would get tattoos to cover up the scars. Mine aren’t nearly as bad, most of the time you can’t really see them; it was just a pocket knife, after all. I actually have another one right next to them which looks similar that I got when I worked at the paint store. I was pulling out some five gallon buckets from under a shelf, didn’t realize the screw holding the shelf together was sticking out the bottom end which ripped a good one into my arm. I thought about covering them up but, most of the time, I’m glad they’re there. Sometimes, I need the reminder.

Another sidenote: I actually smashed the phone I had during this time. I didn’t do it on purpose (well, I did but not to destroy it. I was just mad about something unrelated), but I know that subconsciously I didn’t want any more reminders. Sure, there are nights I’d be interested to go back through the photos and see what life looked like back then. But, I know that would be stupid. It’s over for a reason and I’m glad it is. The memories are more than enough… These songs are more than enough…

So, if what you’ve read about above has interested you and you’d like to purchase/donate to the cause, there are a few options:

1. Go to https://bradleywik.bandcamp.com/. You can stream for free or purchase (hint: you can also donate a little extra past the $4, if you like)

2. As I know these are trying times and people could use some entertainment, you can also download the record for FREE (CLICK HERE to access the google drive link with mp3’s of the record) with optional donation to: https://www.paypal.me/bradleywik

Thanks for reading and listening. I’ll be back soon with more info on track #4 - “what are we supposed to do now that we’ve wasted our youth?”

-30-

Track #2 - the promise (please don't die tonight)

As a reminder, every Thursday (for the foreseeable, quarantined future) at 8pm EST, I will be going LIVE on Facebook to play music, talk, and deep dive into various topics like how/why I write songs (up on replay now), how Asperger’s affects my songwriting and storytelling (next week, on 4/23), how to write a Rock N’ Roll song like Bradley Wik, and more. Go follow the Facebook page, or however that works, at: https://www.facebook.com/BradleyWikMusic/

I’ll also be doing some music recommendations and other short videos on there. So, if you’d like that, be sure to follow along. There also may be a video series about songwriting in the not too distant future… Stay tuned.

But, today, I would like to introduce track #2 - the promise (please don’t die tonight). Below is a short synopsis (trust me, I could write way more if you’d like but I think the below covers it pretty well), of that song. I wrote about the recording/production and about why it’s on this album. The story behind it, if you were. I know, I’ve said a few times I’m not really interested in back story but I thought some context might be helpful. Again, I don’t want people to think I’m writing depressing, fucked up stories to sound “cool” but to expose how stupid and asshole-y I was back in the day (I’ve gotten way better, though not totally “better.” Sort of like that episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm with Larry and the acupuncturist. Better, but not “better.”). It’s one of the things I really wanted to do with this record, make sure that I don’t try to abdicate responsibility for my actions. Depression, drugs, alcohol, etc. don’t exempt you from blame and I try to allow myself to be the villain of my own piece with these songs. “I started killing myself…,” “I drank til I was numb…,” “WE were too fucked up to care…,” “What are WE gonna do now that WE’VE wasted OUR youth?,” “WE poisoned OUR bodies…,” etc. It’s either my fault or at worst there was someone joining me. I never wanted to blame anyone for my stupid actions. At best, I was aided and abetted but no one forced me to do stupid, shitty things; I chose to. My hope is that after hearing these tunes, people might choose not to do shitty things to each other…

Also, just random note: this song is the exact same length as “i started killing myself years ago…” Not sure how that happens, but it did. I initially thought I had mislabeled the file since it was exactly the same size so I panicked after I uploaded it to BANDCAMP. But, just another weird thing that happened with this album.

Anyways, enough of my blathering. On to the song!

“the promise (please don’t die tonight)”

“i might love you” she said, with tears in her eyes

“so, promise me that you won’t die tonight”

Music Notes:

This song is so basic in both structure and story that I really wanted to keep it that way so nothing would overpower the simple yet powerful message. Everything in this song is super repetitive (that’s the Asperger’s in me) and I love it. I wanted to make it sort of trance-y to really let you live in the world for a bit. It’s a very full, rich sounding song. There’s very few gaps in the frequencies on the instrumentation so that the song will fully envelope your senses. I always try to break my songs down into highs, mids and lows and see what’s filling out those spaces. Normally, that was lead guitar in the highs, snare/toms and rhythm guitars in the mids, kick drum and bass in the lows. It’s so different for this type of music and it was fun to play around with a totally different sound palette. Adding in highs, like the harmonica, make the song feel like it’s opening up into something grander. Taking away bass makes it feel less intense. Removing some mid frequency parts make it feel more naked and like it’s missing something if you’d like to build anticipation. There’s so much more I can do in this realm, which was very overwhelming at first but eventually helped me get to where I wanted to be with these songs.

I tried to make this song fairly driving in the rhythms and production to simulate how it would sound to hear these words while being under the influence. You know, that sort of tunnel-vision, fuzzy-sounding thing that happens after a few too many where sounds sort of overwhelm your senses. And there was probably more to the story and more words that were spoken but the only ones to cut through the din were those two, simple lines. The rest drowned out in your drunkenness, exemplifying the immediacy of those words.

I actually considered making this song just the one verse which was like a minute and a half long and just leaving it at that, but that didn’t feel as impactful somehow. Made it feel more like a vignette than a story. It felt unfinished, which sort of makes sense given the context, but I wasn’t sold. It’s almost as if I was too drunk to understand the words the first time so I needed them repeated so I’d remember them. So, you get second verse same as the first. 

Story Notes:

So, after the first song (“i started killing myself years ago…”), this felt like the most logical continuation of the story. The songs weren’t written too far apart, maybe a week or so, and the same characters and thoughts were likely occupying my mind. In the first song, the characters were “too fucked up to care,” but here is the introduction of the female character which would reappear in “what are we supposed to do now that we’ve wasted our youth?” She did care (at least a little), though I still did not. And, by not caring about myself, it meant I didn’t care about her since she was invested enough in me to at least care whether I lived or died. Wow, what a great couple. That’s true romance...

But, these are words I’ve heard before, in various forms, over the years. I feel like such an asshole that someone had to say these words to me. Back then, I thought “why do you care? I don’t even care…” But now I realize how selfish that was. I made them care because I couldn’t muster up the courage to care at least a little bit about myself. I had grown used to others doing that for me. I’m sure part of it was the extra attention. I’ve always loved attention, whether I was playing sports, trying to get the best scores/grades in school and now in performing my music. Luckily, however, I’ve never become dependent on the attention. I love it, but it’s one of the few addictions I’ve never had...

I thought a lot about those words a couple years later when I started writing this record. As I mentioned, this song was written second for the record (would’ve been cool to write them all in order… But, not sure if you noticed the tracks are in alphabetical order on the record, which was actually just a happy accident. I didn’t plan it that way, it just felt the best in this order.) and I wanted to go back in time (Back to the Future Huey Lewis style) to before when “what are we supposed to do now that we’ve wasted our youth?” took place. Did these people have any sort of real connection? Did they truly not care at all like in “i started killing myself years ago…?” Was there a time they weren’t just wasting away their days/months/years together?

And, the answer is: kind of, but not really. Key word in the song (all two lines of it) is “might.” “‘i might love you’ she said, with tears in her eyes.” Turns out she probably didn’t actually care that much. And I probably would have said the same thing had the roles been reversed. Maybe I had at some point and just forgotten, whether by drink, drug or just the passage of time. So, I guess we both cared, at least a little, but, likely, only a little.

Which brings me to another tenet of my songwriting: I try to never write how I “feel” and never try to speculate on how someone else might “feel.” I try to just tell the story. I can’t even pretend to understand how I actually feel most of the time (thank you, Asperger’s) so I wouldn’t try to pretend what someone else is feeling. So, I try to stick to the facts and let other people fill in the blanks. If there are feelings or emotions involved in a song they’re always ones that were explicitly told to me. One of the (Asperger’s?) triggers I have is being blamed for something I didn’t do or told that I meant or felt something I did not (just ask my wife, Brianne...). So, I would hate to characterize someone or assume they were thinking/feeling/etc. something they were not. It would drive me crazy and I try to respect that in others.

After I wrote those two lines, I struggled with what else to go with it. The lines were so powerful and painted such a story that everything I tried to add paled in comparison and didn’t really add much, if anything, to the story. But, surely the song couldn’t be just two lines? This is Bradley Wik we’re talking about. Writer of epics like “Just Like Jon Fickes.” The same man whose words are more important than singing the same vocal melody for each line, who sings over all his bridges to get more story in, and whose favorite songwriting trick (crutch?) for fitting in more lyrics is the double verse/double chorus. Eventually though, I gave up trying and just left the song as is. It said everything I wanted it to. Those simple words were all I needed and all this song did too.

But, again, like I’ve mentioned before, I didn’t sit down thinking all that and then poop out a song. All that was milling around in my subconscious until it came out on paper. It feels like magic when it happens, but that probably also shows you how out of touch with my thoughts/emotions/etc. I am due to the Asperger’s. No, this is me trying to reverse engineer all these tunes and hopefully put them in context on the record.

So, if what you’ve read about above has interested you and you’d like to purchase/donate to the cause, there are a few options:

1. Go to https://bradleywik.bandcamp.com/. You can stream for free or purchase (hint: you can also donate a little extra past the $4, if you like)

2. As I know these are trying times and people could use some entertainment, you can also download the record for FREE (CLICK HERE to access the google drive link with mp3’s of the record) with optional donation to: https://www.paypal.me/bradleywik

Thanks for reading and listening. I’ll be back soon with more info on track #3 - “we are not alone”

-30-

Track #1 - i started killing myself years ago...

As I mentioned in my album introduction blog (which you READ HERE) which talks about the album as a whole, why I made it, why it’s called “music for depressed alcoholic autistic people,” amongst other things, I am going to be writing about each individual song as well. Each of these songs is tied to my having depression, alocholism and/or Asperger’s, and was either a traumatic experience I needed help in understanding myself or something I wanted other people to know they’re not alone in experiencing. It’s been an exhaustive process of diving back into this world and reliving these events while recording these tunes but I felt it was important for me to make this record. Both for me personally, and for those who might need to hear something like this, especially in these uncertain times when I know there is a strain on people’s mental health.

I will be talking about the songs both from a story/inspiration standpoint and also a musical standpoint (i.e. why it sounds like it does, choices that I made that represent other things like being alone, my Meniere’s disease, being drunk, etc.) and any other things I think are relevant/interesting. I wanted to give a little peek behind the curtain of what goes on in my mind when I make a record, especially one this honest and personal. If you do have questions/comments that I do not address, feel free to comment below and I will do my best to answer them. When it comes to my music, there are some things that I think about way too much and some things I never really think about, so I may or may not have a great answer, but I’ll do my best to be as honest and straightforward as possible. Anyhow, on to the song!

“i started killing myself years ago…”

i sing these songs for you though i’ve sang them for others

and every word rang true, at least for a moment

we were too fucked up to care

we were too fucked up to care, anyhow

most nights, i wish we never met

i started killing myself years ago, i just haven’t finished yet…

some nights I still dream, though i’m always dying

before i can save you but i’ll never stop trying

we were too fucked up to care

we were too fucked up to care, anyhow

most nights, i wish we never met

i started killing myself years ago, i just haven’t finished yet…

Music Notes:

This is the only song on the album that features none of the Moog synth featured on the other three songs. This is sort of how all the songs sounded when I did the initial demos. Since I can’t actually play keyboards/synths, I would write and quickly record all the different parts on my guitar and then clumsily notate and translate them to the Moog synth to replace the scratch guitar tracks one at a time. It was a tedious process where I’d come up with a part, record it, figure out what notes it is, then figure out how to play those notes on the synth, then figure out how I wanted them to sound and, finally, record what you hear on the album. I have pages of notes from these songs that have every note scribbled out, e.g. VERSE: A, B, C, B, A, D, etc. and on and on. But, no matter what I did with this song, the original demo always sounded better. Something always got lost in the translation. I finally gave up trying to rebuild the song and what you hear in the naked, original demo version of the song, with the original scratch lead vocal and the guitar parts that I recorded almost two years ago. For those who don’t know, a “scratch” track (vocal, guitar, bass, etc.) is a hastily recorded part that is mostly for timing of the song. You don’t really focus on levels, how it sounds, how you performed, etc., you just record it so you can play the other parts along to it and then re-record it later. This song is all “scratch” tracks that never got replaced. That seemed kind of fitting for a song like this. It felt right, like I didn’t care enough to go through the process of making it sound like the other songs, it just is what it is. I like that about this song. The song doesn’t care, both from a lyrical and musical standpoint. It’s very Asperger’s/Autistic in that way. The more you try to change it, the more it’ll fight to stay the same.

Story notes:

One of the things I’ve noticed about myself over the years is I don’t look at my past like most people. Once I’ve moved, had a breakup or any other big life change, I feel like a new person. I don’t feel a connection to the previous versions of me. They feel more like chapters in a book that I’ve read dozens of times, so I know all the beats but I’m just recounting their stories, not my story. I don’t know if that’s an Asperger’s thing or not, I suspect it is, but it’s certainly a strange feeling. And, because of that, I tend to do the same things over and over (definitely an Asperger’s thing) throughout my life, which, also means I make the same mistakes over and over, like, say, getting into bad relationships. Not necessarily with people who are bad but with people who are bad for me. Like people who accentuate my worst tendencies. People who like the worst aspects of me. For me, that’s people who enjoy chaos. I love living in chaos, but in the worst way. It’s a very destructive place for me to dwell in. I also enjoy drugs and alcohol. So, when someone pushes me to stay in that chaotic, drug-filled world, they don’t have to push hard. Over the years, I learned how to go into that world enough to fill my darker desires, but how to also avoid going there each and every day. But, it doesn’t take much to get me to want to live there. and a pretty girl is more than enough motivation.

One of the side effects of living in that world, for me at least, is night terrors. The deeper down the hole I go, the worse they get. I’ve woken up with bruised or bleeding hands and feet, black eyes, hell, even a broken ankle once because of night terrors. The worst part of the night terrors was that each time I died in the dream (usually very viscerally, I might add), the dream just started over. And, even when I thought I’d woken up, I was often still in the dream. I’d awake in my bed and everything looked normal. But, then I’d notice something is off, like the clock said it was 8:10am but it was still dark out, and I’d be magically whisked away back to the beginning of the dream to die a few more times. Then, I’d finally wake up again and get up to pee, but the bathroom light switch didn’t work and… back to the beginning of the dream, again. It was like a cruel video game. I got to remember my progress so I could get a little further each time or try new strategies. But, in the end, it just keeps going and going. It's why I love the movies "Happy Death Day" and "Inception" so much. For once, I thought maybe it wasn't just me who experienced dreams like this.

Here’s an example of a recurring dream I have: I’m standing outside a 5 story brick apartment building that is likely located in New York City, even though I’ve been having this dream long before I lived in New York City so I’m just now realizing it’s probably based on April O’Neil’s apartment from the “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” movie, and the building is on fire (again, probably from the TMNT movie) and it’s my job to save as many people as possible. I race into the first floor and help the 2-3 people who are trapped on this floor. Then, I move to the second floor, there’s a family of three, mom, young son and younger daughter, which I help out of the building. The fire is growing and spreading and some of the ceiling starts to fall around me. I know it’s getting worse. The girl I’m trying to save is on the fourth floor (this probably because 4 is my favorite number). If I go to the third floor, I might not make it up to her, so I go straight to the fourth. I race past a few screams for help on the third floor and I find her and couple other stragglers. We head for the stairs (it’s a walk-up, not that we would opt for the elevator). The fire is now crazy out of control and debris is falling everywhere. As we get down to the second story landing, a large piece of debris falls on us and kills us all.

Back to the beginning. I’m outside the building again. This time, I’ll try working top down as the top floors seem less stable than the bottom floors plus I’ll get to the girl sooner. So, up to the fifth floor. I find and help a few people all the way down. Because this takes longer, the fire is already spreading further than before it seems. I find my girl on the fourth floor, but this time there’s more people in the apartments around her. Apparently, the first time they either died before I could get there or a few others managed to escape on their own. So, now we have a larger group headed down the stairs. As we pass the second floor, the girl sees the family and races to help them. I decide to take the group I have downstairs and come back for her. It’s on the second floor and I think I still have time. After assisting the group outside, I race back into the building but the fire is out of control now. I can see the girl on the second floor stairwell with the family but some debris has damaged the stairs and the landing is on fire. She lowers the kids down the side of stairwell to me and I race them out of the building. By the time I get back, she and the mother are gone and the building is falling apart all around me. With her gone, I just stand there and await my fate. Back to the beginning…

Wait, maybe not. I wake up sweaty and a little sore in my bed. But, for some reason I can’t fully open my eyes. I only get fleeting glances at the room around me as I struggle to wake myself up and get out of this dream so I don’t have to play again. After struggling for a few minutes, I realize I’m not really awake and I slowly drift back into dreamland. Back to the beginning…

That could go on all night, and because of all that, it was easier for me to drink until I passed out than to risk dreaming at night. If I drank enough, I wouldn’t dream. Seemed like a simple choice: risk injuring myself while also torturing myself with dreams where I continually experience painful deaths OR just get fucked up, black out and come to the next morning not remembering anything. So, I chose the latter most nights. I knew the things I was doing to my body were unhealthy but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I knew I was putting myself on a path that would eventually kill me but I was OK with that. That would take years and I wasn’t worried about years from now, I was worried about being able to sleep for a few hours each night. If all this ended up killing me years from now, I could accept that trade off. I had to get to work the next morning and I was still only 24. There was still plenty of time...

Of course, I wasn’t thinking about any of that when I wrote the song. Those are all things I’ve come to realize afterwards. I’m going to talk about my songwriting process in a short video this week, but the songs typically come out quickly (I think the longest I’ve ever worked on a song is about forty five minutes), usually come in sets of 2-3, and they just flow out naturally. It’s like an out of body experience. So, I don’t sit down and think “I’ll write one about night terrors.” I’ll just find a few chords I like and a couple songs will pop out. There’s actually a sister song to this one which is completely about the night terrors that will be on the next “music for depressed alcoholic autistic people” record. Yes, I already have written the next record, but let’s enjoy this one for a while first, shall we.

So, if what you’ve read about above has interested you and you’d like to purchase/donate to the cause, there are a few options:

1. Go to https://bradleywik.bandcamp.com/. You can stream for free or purchase (hint: you can also donate a little extra past the $4, if you like)

2. As I know these are trying times and people could use some entertainment, you can also download the record for FREE (CLICK HERE to access the google drive link with mp3’s of the record) with optional donation to: https://www.paypal.me/bradleywik

Thanks for reading and listening. I’ll be back soon with more info on track #2 - “the promise (please don’t die tonight).”

-30-

NEW MUSIC (for free)! "music for depressed alcoholic autistic people" is out now!

so, you’re probably wondering where ol bradley wik has been the last couple weeks. i mean, no one can leave the house so shouldn’t you be writing more often? valid question, but i’ve been quickly finishing up my latest ep/record entitled “music for depressed alcoholic autistic people” so i could get it out to you as soon as possible. it’s four brand new songs and a pretty stark departure from my typical two guitars, bass and drums approach. it’s finally ready (or as close as i will likely get it as i had to record, mix and master myself at my apartment. the latter two skills are not ones that come easily to me…) and i’m not even waiting until the traditional friday release day. it’s wednesday and that’s good enough for me.

you’re also probably wondering why i made a record called “music for depressed alcoholic autistic people.” well, it’s both extremely simple and very complicated, which is pretty much how everything is for me. you see, i have asperger’s. or autism spectrum disorder. call it what you like. i prefer asperger’s since it doesn’t have the word “disorder” in it, which implies something negative. personally, i prefer to see my asperger’s as a positive thing. it’s why i play music in the first place (which is a story unto itself, which YOU CAN READ HERE). my asperger’s is the reason i was able to make this record. which, again, is both good and bad. the songs are good but terrifically depressing if you listen to the lyrics. or, even if you just glance at the song titles (you can click on the titles to read about each song individually):

“i started killing myself years ago…”

“the promise (please don’t die tonight)”

“we are not alone”

“what are we supposed to do now that we’ve wasted our youth?”

two about death, one about contemplating it and one about the night i stabbed both my arms to prove to myself that i was still real because the grocery store was closed (i’ll explain that sentence more when i write about “we are not alone”).

so, again, why is the album called “music for depressed alcoholic autistic people?”

here’s the simple answer: that’s what i am and these were the types of songs i needed over the years but couldn’t find.

here’s the complicated answer (my wife likes to constantly tell me how much i tend to complicate things…): i’ve spent years trying to get in touch with myself and my emotions. that’s not something that asperger’s people do well. it wasn’t until recently that i can finally say with confidence that i can tell the difference between feeling hungry and feeling sick to my stomach. this is true. you can ask my wife. it once led to me pooping my pants on a christmas eve drive down to see my wife’s family. i didn’t know back then that i was becoming lactose-intolerant and was enjoying some (already questionable based on the “best by” date) eggnog in my morning coffee. i actually yelled “why am i so hungry all the sudden?!” right before a little poo came out as i sprinted towards the rest stop toilet... wait, that’s not what i’m supposed to be talking about right now. dammit! only a few hundred words in and i’m already way off topic.

but, over the years, i’ve never really understood myself. i could understand other people much better. not their emotions and feelings, but their stories, their shortcomings, their strengths, etc. i could learn about what made them tick and why they did the things they did. i became an astute observer of human beings. i started to realize the reason i did this was because i wanted to be able to figure myself out, which i couldn’t. i didn’t seem to act and think linearly like the people i watched. why was i always the one that didn’t do what he was supposed to in a given circumstance? why did i struggle to react to things the way others do? why did i always seem to say or do the wrong thing given the situation? why couldn’t i just be “normal?” i wanted answers but found none.

once i became a musician, i saw this reflected in my songwriting. for most of my songwriting career, i wrote songs about other people. i watched the world around me and recorded the stories of people who passed through my life. sure, i was a part of many of the stories and always put a little of myself into them so i could tell the story better, but i was mostly telling my stories through other people. some of it was because i was young and i hadn’t experienced a lot yet, but mostly it was because it was easier for me to do it that way. i did write some pretty straightforward autobiographical songs like “midwest winters” or “i am not afraid,” but many of my songs are not directly about me and my stories. songs like “lookin’ at luckey,” “just like jon fickes,” “some girls (still love rock n’ roll),” “this old house,” “friday night is for the drinkers,” etc. are all examples of that. those songs have little (if anything) to do with me. they’re mostly observations and recollections, usually of women i know or once knew. 

with this record, i didn’t want to write about others. i wanted to write things that were intensely personal and write about them as simply and honestly as possible (these songs have the least amount of lyrics of anything i’ve ever written. one song is literally just two lines). i wanted to focus on some of the darkest moments in my life and try to write for that person. what did that version of myself need from a song? what could he have heard that might make him feel more connected to the world and less alone in his depression? what thoughts could he have understood better if he had heard them articulated and set to music (his preferred way of understanding himself)?

that’s what “music for depressed alcoholic autistic people” is. it’s me telling myself it’s ok to have these dark thoughts. it’s me telling myself that what i’m feeling is not singular to me. it’s me telling myself (literally in one song) that i am not alone in the world, other people understand what i’m going through, which somehow makes it a little easier. it’s me explaining these feelings and thoughts to myself in a way that allows me to understand them better. and by doing that, it’s me telling others the same. if i needed to hear these things, i know others need to as well. i’m not saying that to sound arrogant, but to imply that i realize i’m not some unique snowflake. i’m not the only one who has been depressed for long periods of time. i’m not the only one who thinks about death on a regular basis. i’m not the only one who dies in almost all their dreams. i’m not the only one who has done things they’re ashamed to talk about. i’m not the only one people called the police on because they were worried they might kill themselves.

i am not alone. you are not alone. we are not alone… i want to help you understand yourself a little better the way i learned to understand myself a little better, through song. i want to tell you that you can get through this, i did.

there’s another thing i’d like to impress upon you as well. i’m not writing about depressing things to glorify them, to make you depressed or to fetishize my depression in any way. as someone who struggles with, or has struggled with, mental health issues, drug and alcohol abuse, ill-advised sexual activities, etc., i don’t appreciate when people make being fucked up sound cool. i’m not advocating for people to use drugs, alcohol, depression, etc. as an excuse to do fucked up shit to others either. i just want to talk about my experiences so maybe someone out there won’t go down the path i did or can start to pull themselves out of a bad place after hearing my stories. if you’re going through something, i hope these songs will make you feel better in some small way, or, at least, less alone.

i also wanted to make something that talks about and normalizes (well, in some ways) asperger’s/autism. please know that these songs were written and made by someone who has asperger’s: me. i can do anything other people can (except properly react to emotions), and i can do many things, like music and math and the new york times spelling bee game, better than most. i’m not weird (well, i guess i am but in the ways you might think). i don’t look funny. i don’t talk funny (seriously, wait til i’m playing shows again and come hear my terrible attempts at jokes…). in fact, i’ve never had anyone be able to tell that i have asperger’s until i told them. i realize i’m not as far out on the spectrum as others, but i’ve done most things in life just like others. i went to school, got straight a’s, played sports, was in the high school band as a trombone player (so i could make the “bwwwooommp” sad trombone/fart sound at inopportune times), held down and excelled at jobs. yes, i’ve also done a lot of fucked things over the years but who’s to say i wouldn’t have done those things anyways even if i didn’t have asperger’s?

anyhow, over the next week or so, i’m also going to write about each song, post the lyrics, tell the stories and explain why i chose them for this record. each song has special meaning to me and i’ve been wanting to make this record for a long time. there are sounds on this album i’ve been dreaming about making for over ten years. i didn’t know how to make them until recently. a couple of the songs were written almost three years ago but i didn’t know what to do with them yet. my yearslong journey of trying to understand myself (for the record, i still mostly don’t) also coincided with my yearslong journey to find the sounds i’ve been hearing in my head but couldn’t articulate. it’s a record i’ve wanted to make forever but didn’t understand myself or my music enough to do it until now.

all sounds on this record were recorded in my various apartments (a few parts date back to my time in portland, or which is where these stories mostly take place. i fucking hate portland, or… don’t get me started… thank you for not getting me started...) with a very simple setup:

• my trusty martin d-15 acoustic guitar

• an audio-technica at4040 condenser mic

• a shure bullet mic

• and a moog sub37 synth

this album plays around a lot with melody (some parts have up to a dozen separate melodies happening all at once), with noise as an instrument, with putting acoustic guitar and voice over the top of synth chaos (literally, at some points), with taking small, sad-bastard type songs and blowing them out (while keeping one of them small and intimate, it just always sounded better than any other version i tried), and other things i’ve wanted to try ever since i heard bands like radiohead, wilco, the jesus and mary chain and my bloody valentine play around with noise and chaos. i always wanted to make this version of it. some sort of hybrid between noisy synth pop and sad-bastard acoustic music. i’m happy i finally have something to present to you. it’s the first music i’ve made that i actually still listen to. after spending so much time writing, recording, editing, mixing, etc., it still somehow sounds new to me. it’s an interesting development and we’ll see if that lasts…

this record will be available via itunes, spotify, etc. soon but i wanted to get this to you as soon as possible so i am making it available on my website (for free, but also feel “free” to donate via venmo or paypal unless you’re one of the generous souls who have already donated to the cause; looking at you hal, anne, matt, and, of course, mom) and ON BANDCAMP (with a suggested donation for download but you can stream for free).

as this sounds nothing like anything i’ve ever released, i recommend taking a listen before deciding whether to purchase/donate in case this isn’t your cup of tea. there are no drums, guitar solos or songs about cars and rock n’ roll, you know, my usual fare, on here. but, if you want something that is sonically unique, extremely heartfelt and honest, at times (intentionally) hard to listen to (both lyrically and literally) and something that is the most bradley wik thing i’ve ever made, click, download, listen, and then, i’ll ask this small favor of you, share.

if someone you know is going through a tough time and could use music like this, share it with them. if someone you know likes weird, fucked-up-but-in-beautiful-way-type music, share it with them. if someone you know is in the music business and would like to pay me to make more music like this, please, and i can’t stress this enough, share it with them.

anyways, enough of my ramblings, go listen to my new music!!

So, if what you’ve read about above has interested you and you’d like to purchase/donate to the cause, there are a few options:

1. Go to https://bradleywik.bandcamp.com/. You can stream for free or purchase (hint: you can also donate a little extra past the $4, if you like)

2. As I know these are trying times and people could use some entertainment, you can also download the record for FREE (CLICK HERE to access the google drive link with mp3’s of the record) with optional donation to: https://www.paypal.me/bradleywik or through Venmo (@bradleywik)

-30-

Fuck Columbus, Fuck Portland, Fuck Depression... aka cutting and scars...

I just finished a new song.  It's ridiculous to talk about it since it won't be released for another year, but I love this song so much.  It's a song about cutting, which, unfortunately, I know a little bit about.  Now, to be sure, I've known people who've had extensive issues with cutting.  I dated a girl with more scars than I could count.  We talked about it at length.  She dealt with more than I could bear.  My experience with it is not on the same level and I'm not trying to compare but I can relate, in a different sort of way.  The reasons behind a person being in the mindset to do such a thing are varied.  I do not pretend to understand all, or even any, beyond my own.  And, I realize my reasons were not very common.  They were an outlier and therefore I'm not trying to compare my experience to others.  As I've mentioned, I've intimately known more than a couple people who have struggled with far worse issues.  I'm merely trying to say that I understand this issue more than most.  I've both internally and externally dealt with it.  I wish I hadn't (no one should) but the seed has been sown.   I can't undo my four scars, and I don't particularly care to.  I hold on to them to remind myself of what I can become.  It's not pleasant but it's not meant to be.  I relish the reminders of harder times.  They make me strive for the good times, regardless of how few and far between they are.  I try to keep the memories strong to keep myself on the right path.  Someday, I might tell the whole story, which is long and boring, at least to me, but for now I'll keep it simple:  I struggled with creating a dissociative disorder for myself.  I didn't think I was real.  Or, I didn't think the world around me was real.  I vacillated between those two realities; no doubt influenced by the intake of pain killers, Xanax and copious amounts of alcohol.  Also, the amount of self-hate and depression.  Moving to Portland was the single most tragic thing that ever happened to me, which, I know sounds ridiculous but it's true.  I was immediately depressed upon arriving but tried to associated those feelings with leaving New York City.  No city was ever going to live up to NYC, so I was just experiencing a normal drop off.  Not so.  I knew more than I could realize.  Sure, I started a band, made some albums, some music videos, enjoyed minor success and met my wife here, but the toll it's taken on me is irreparable.  I'll never be the same.  Frankly, I'm surprised my insides have only given out once with the amount of shit I've ingested to try and get by or enjoy myself or life.  Life hasn't been very enjoyable aside from getting married.  I've loved getting married but part of the reason is that I finally get to leave.  You see, my wife didn't feel comfortable moving with me before marriage, which is understandable given how shitty and undependable I can be.  But, Portland is the city in which I tried to murder myself, cut myself to establish the fact that I am a real being and thought about death multiple times per day.  It's not a place I will look back upon fondly.  I tried to kill myself once in Seattle too, but have nothing but good things to say about Seattle.  That is not the case for Portland.  If Portland were destroyed by a nuclear bomb, I would not only be OK, I would rejoice.  I have Asperger's so I don't really care about any of the people I don't know that would have died, and selfishly would love to see this place burned to the ground.  Good things may have happened as a result of this place, but the damage it's done to me and my well-being will never be rectified.  I will live with the literal and figurative scars forever.  I don't expect to outrun them.  I don't expect to get over them.  I don't expect to live happily alongside them, though I'm trying; especially now that I'm married.  Marriage for me was almost as much about self-preservation as it was about love.  I needed something to unselfishly live for.  Which is selfish as fuck, I suppose, saying it out loud.  My wife is the best thing that has ever happened to me and I felt guilty marrying her knowing full well I might kill myself.  I probably won't anymore, as she's unbearably wonderful and amazing and brilliant and beautiful, but I can't guarantee I won't.  I might do it by mistake.  There's only so much a liver can take, and all the drugs, alcohol and pills haven't helped.  Despite a massive cutback, the damage may have been done.  Although I feel like I might live forever given my not-give-a-fuck attitude, but maybe I'm wrong.  I haven't been wrong hardly ever, but it's possible I guess.  I hope Kanye is doing alright... I know he's taken a lot of shit for his SNL comments (which weren't aired, so he was right, black people do have to keep their thoughts to themselves...) which are semi-justified but not wholly.  He's not completely wrong on anything, he just didn't articulate his thoughts in a way that non-Kanye people would understand.  I get it...

Oh yeah, and happy Columbus/murdering, raping and enslaving indigenous people day.  Maybe that's why I'm so down tonight...  Fuck that Italian asshole.

(dictated but not read)