driven out

For the briefest period of time in the summer of 2010, I had hit the lowest of lows. Surely and slowly, there I was, face down on the ground, once again stabbed in the back from a "friend" I trusted.



But this time, there would be no comebacks, no fuck yous, no attempts to reconcile. Just a horrible, crippling feeling of loss, like someone died. In a way, that was what it was. I was dead to her.

When you experience something like that, the worst part is staying at home, allowing the thoughts to build and become cancerous, letting it kill you. Lucky me.

It took a few days, but I got something to take my mind off it: a job driving around the state,delivering phone books. For the amount of pay I got, it wasn't worth it.

But to escape the house, it was. Driving out in summer weather with no A/C, starting and stopping, packed to capacity with a bagged lunch and an iPod on shuffle using cheap speakers because the radio was busted, it was mental therapy.

I needed to get away, make money, to essentially buy happiness and erase the hurt inflicted by her. It was an internal revolution, something that was fostering inside me. Driving around the state, with my windows down, working, and feeling so lonely, but at the same time, feeling free as ever.

It's moments like that that has me on Valentine's Day, or the night before it, saying how much I hate the attitudes of people on this day. The fucking attitudes of the lovey-dubby, oh-let's-flaunt-affection-on-1-day-when-there-are-364-other-goddamn-days-to-do-it people. Face it, your love is NOT immortal. It will die, either by betrayal, by death, by divorce, or apathy. Sorry I had to tell you.

But back to the point... I have the nerves of finally jumping back into the mingling, dating scene. At this point, I'd rather spend a romantic night with my keyboard than a girl, because at one of us will not leave disappointed.

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And it was at that point, something had to change for my own sake, either hit it big with music, or go back to school, throw away all the progress I believed I made, and essentially saying "I can't win on my own."

Guess who won?

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Bangin' in my headphones