tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42634155549887917802024-03-12T18:41:41.635-05:00Scattered ThoughtsDavlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.comBlogger331125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-66384940591439006642012-10-06T01:22:00.004-05:002012-10-06T01:22:58.878-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://thepathofconvalescence.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">The next chapter.</a></div>
Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-1601352683206177122011-11-19T13:25:00.000-06:002011-11-19T13:25:04.988-06:00A message from the management.This blog has reached its conclusion. If you are a new reader, welcome, and it might be best for you to start from the beginning, otherwise you will be missing out on a wealth of great material.<br />
<br />
For the longtime fans, <i>Scattered Thoughts</i> may have ended, but the story is far from over. You can pick it up on <i><a href="http://livingonlyformyself.blogspot.com">Subsistence</a></i>.<br />
<br />
Thanks, as always, for reading,<br />
<br />
DavlinDavlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-73081437609906584862011-10-12T23:24:00.001-05:002011-10-18T10:48:44.212-05:00With a whimper.A few weeks ago I posted what I thought was going to be the last entry on this blog, but I discovered I had a few things left to say. Now I think I've finally run out of words. I've tried to go through and read some of my earlier pieces for inspiration, however that process proved more difficult that I could have ever imagined.<br />
<br />
Everything I had written this year was dedicated to the future, one that will now never come to pass and it's something I don't know how to deal with. The one person who's meant more to me than I ever thought possible is now a stranger and the loss of that connection has been devastating. <br />
<br />
I miss her. I miss us. Since I've gotten back I've felt so incredibly empty and every smile I've put on display hasn't been anything other than weakly managed semblance. And that's just the beginning. <br />
<br />
Writing doesn't bring me the solace it used to and I feel like that's the last thing I truly had. Maybe one day things will be different and maybe they won't, but this has run its course. <br />
<br />
Thank you for following and I wish I could have been better than I am, but I'm not. And for that, I'm eternally sorry.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-51652552233984930222011-10-11T02:55:00.003-05:002011-10-11T02:58:24.217-05:00Maudlin<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DoJgEp4ODUs">Noro-Brand New</a><br />
<br />
It's been a week and I've barely left this room. The walls close in a little more with each passing day. I've had a little contact with the outside world with the help of emails and social networks, but they do little to ease the pain. <br />
<br />
I spend the days weeping and looking for employment, because financial obligations are a few of the things I've never really been able to escape. It all piles up and I'm not sure if I have the tools to dig myself out of this one. At eventide I scramble to set up the defenses to protect myself from the impending darkness which threatens to consume all that I have left.<br />
<br />
When I'm trying to sleep I have a feeling deep within my bones which lets me know I'm not alone. He takes his perch at the foot of the bed and watches me with great interest. He smiles and I can hear the laughter in his voice as he repeats the things she said to me. Then he parrots some of the more destructive thoughts I've had lately. <br />
<br />
"You're dying", he tells me. <br />
<br />
I close my eyes and I see her. This is what he wants; for the wounds to reopen and the ebb to begin anew. The last nine months flash in as many seconds and it leaves me spent. <br />
<br />
When I open them he's lying next to me, smiling so big his face splits. His giggling gets so loud it fills the room and I look at the clock. Four hours left until sunrise.<br />
<br />
I'm running out of time.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-26822449057736108002011-10-10T03:47:00.001-05:002011-10-10T03:48:32.944-05:00In summation1. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RS4fV9HfeMM">A beautiful life-Everclear</a><br />
<br />
2. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZB7U7jTWDfU">I'll never love again-New Found Glory</a><br />
<br />
3. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBS-1QWFEc0">The conversation-Motion City Soundtrack</a><br />
<br />
4. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24M5glA5Ui4">The sharp hint of new tears-Dashboard Confessional</a><br />
<br />
5. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7KpYP1V63s">Paperthin hymn-Anberlin</a><br />
<br />
6. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4ebIqhsgSc">Rusted from the rain-Billy Talent</a><br />
<br />
7. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFwWmQwLW4s">Back against the wall-Cage The Elephant</a><br />
<br />
8. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Db0LVhrf6mY">Close yet far-CKY</a><br />
<br />
9. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i01SuAOvq0M">All hail the heartbreaker-The Spill Canvas</a><br />
<br />
10. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pG9OmNhEuwY">Never had it-Flobots</a><br />
<br />
11. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YG6R67iitpE&feature=fvst">Leave out all the rest-Linkin Park</a><br />
<br />
12. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xwIcJ6SLI4">Yes, please reduce me-Normal Like You</a><br />
<br />
13. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6aGXWE20Vlg">Audience of one-Rise against</a><br />
<br />
14. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FrpcICY2TVY">Fine again-Seether</a><br />
<br />
15 <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YOyCMSNmVY8&feature=fvst">Bother-Stone Sour</a><br />
<br />
16. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OThfgmZASes">On my own-The Used</a><br />
<br />
17. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rw4Xk9Y7YGY">You won't know-Brand New</a><br />
<br />
18. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MVGiiiB7wpY">Slip out the back-Fort Minor</a>Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-16236015121318059722011-10-09T22:33:00.004-05:002011-10-09T22:36:40.671-05:00I tried all day,<br />
<br />
To write something down.<br />
<br />
But I couldn't get past,<br />
<br />
these three little words...<br />
<br />
I miss you.<br />
<br />
So for now,<br />
<br />
I'll succumb to the tears.<br />
<br />
And then tomorrow,<br />
<br />
I'll try again.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-41425591915191129142011-10-04T17:12:00.003-05:002011-10-18T10:35:32.654-05:00The inevitable fallout<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VvsHYRzO8_Q">Yeasayer-Madder Red</a><br />
<br />
What started as a drizzle has quickly evolved into a full blown monsoon. Heavy drops pound the windshield severely limiting my visuals and reducing the radio to nothing more than enigmatic whispers. I grip the wheel with both hands and desperately struggle to maintain control. After ignoring all the signs which let me know where this particular road would lead, I soldier on. <br />
<br />
In the distance I can barely make out a series of flashing lights. For a split second I close my weary eyes and when I return them to open road I'm left with just enough time to make out the words "Dead End", but nowhere near enough to react. That's when everything slows to a crawl.<br />
<br />
The headlights shatter, plunging me into darkness with the demons I've been trying so hard to escape. The music is replaced with the sounds of metal folding in on itself. My face pushes its way through the windshield, reminding me that seatbelts can't funtion properly if you fail to buckle them. Then I'm airborne.<br />
<br />
You could argue that this fall was inevitable, but that doesn't make it any less unexpected. The descent goes on for what feels like months and only prolongs the pain I know is going to come any second now.<br />
<br />
I meet the pavement face first and go into a skid. I can feel every inch of skin rip from my body until I finally run out of forward momentum. I spit glass and broken teeth and try to catch my breath.<br />
<br />
"You need to pick yourself up."<br />
<br />
The voice is too far away to distinguish its owner.<br />
<br />
"I know it hurts but you've got to move past this."<br />
<br />
It's my mother.<br />
<br />
"You can't allow yourself to dwell. You have to move on. I'll give you some space."<br />
<br />
Then she's gone.<br />
<br />
Gone. Just like everything else.<br />
<br />
"I don't think I can." I say aloud, not to her, but to the one I left behind. "This time I've lost too much. I don't know how to move on." Every time I speak blood oozes from my gums and slides down my face. "It wasn't supposed to end like this. I never..." With every word my breath becomes shorter, so I decide to make it quick. "I'm just so sorry...for everything."<br />
<br />
I use what little strength I have left to flip over on my stomach. With a quick glance upward I can see a sign which reads, "Dallas: 148 miles". I lift myself up onto my elbows and begin to crawl, promising myself not to look back until I get there.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-49744033084336248142011-09-22T00:49:00.000-05:002011-09-22T00:49:04.922-05:00Fin.I think this is going to be the last thing I write. I wish I had some grandiose sentiment that would bring this blog to some sort of closure point, but things don't always happen this way. Sometimes things just...end.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-79176486726531962592011-09-07T13:12:00.002-05:002011-09-07T13:12:53.471-05:00Well, since you asked...Bobby,<br />
<br />
Thank you for checking in and I hope this finds you well. Tell your student who found my blog that I said congratulations and I wish him the best of luck. It’s funny, I wondered who found it by googling your name. As for me, well, things haven’t exactly turned out the way I thought they were going to.<br />
<br />
But first, a little backstory.<br />
<br />
During my senior year I spent so much time trying to deal with things both in and out of my control that small details, like my future, kind of fell to the wayside. While my classmates were busy trying finding schools and deciding what they wanted to do with their lives, I was looking for reasons not to end mine. I finally found it in something simple: a notebook and pen.<br />
<br />
To my amazement, the year I spent wasting all the academic accomplishments I’d worked so to accrue didn’t stop me from graduating and I was thrust into the real world without a plan or ambition. I lived in my car, slept on other peoples couches and even had to move out of state after I’d burned my last bridge at home. I didn’t even have a bed of my own until four years later. It was during this time I took the job which would inevitably lead to the most heartbreaking experience of my life which stretched out over the next two years. If I could go back and change it, though, I wouldn’t because it gave me some of the best material I’ve ever written.<br />
<br />
It was also during these couple of years that I realized I wanted to make movies. I made a half assed attempt to find one locally, but the amount of money I needed seemed too daunting and quickly became discouraged. Once I was able to finally shake some of the things I was burdened with for far too long I was able to flourish at work and even found a sense of financial stability.<br />
<br />
It was about this time I went to California and, well, you’re familiar with the rest. The moment you told me I had been accepted into the Brooks Institute remains the proudest moment of my life. I was hesitant at first, but when you assured me money should be the last thing on my mind I went for it. Granted, I probably acted a little hasty in quitting my job, but I thought it was a sure thing. Then, the loan fell through and the disappointment hit hard. Truthfully, I still don’t think I’ve fully recovered. But life goes on.<br />
<br />
I couldn’t find another job and there was no way my old one was going to take me back. I lost everything I’d spent the last four years building. So, I moved to Tennessee to be with the woman I loved. <br />
<br />
Now, it’s six months later and, I gotta tell you man, I’m struggling. I’m writing this from my desk at yet another job in which I feel like my talent is going to waste and not making enough to support myself, much less save for the future. I’m so tired of feeling stuck.<br />
<br />
I’ve also been reading about all of the films which are getting greenlit and it makes me sick to my stomach. The industry has grown stagnant and I want to be one of the voices which helps get us out of this rut. I’m growing more and more worried the day might never come.<br />
<br />
I know this is probably more than you wanted to hear, but…I don’t know, it’s all building up lately and I didn’t really know who else to turn to. <br />
<br />
Thanks for listening.<br />
<br />
DavlinDavlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-10341041687776650432011-08-19T20:44:00.000-05:002011-08-19T20:44:45.155-05:00UpdatesI hate to admit this to you, but I've actually created a Twitter account. Don't look at me that way, it was bound to happen. Check it: <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/FeelReleaseHeal">@feelreleaseheal</a> <br />
<br />
I'm brainstorming ideas for an upcoming horror novel as well as starting a drastic rewrite of <i>Scattered Thougths</i>.<br />
<br />
I'm about to start recording more of my words into MP3s for <a href="http://www.bledoutontoapage.com">Bled Out Onto A Page</a>. Which one am I going to start with? Good question, Reader, and the answer to it is up to you. <a href="http://davlinisnotyourfriend.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-time-in-mental-hospital-part-1.html">My time in the mental hospital: Part 1</a> or <a href="http://davlinisnotyourfriend.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-girl-who-taught-me-art-of-letting-go.html">To The Girl Who Taught Me The Art Of Letting Go</a>? Choose wisely.<br />
<br />
And, finally, thanks to Ana's help, there's a big surprise coming your way.<br />
<br />
Talk to you soon,<br />
<br />
DavlinDavlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-24788105172870109132011-08-08T19:48:00.001-05:002011-08-09T11:13:02.615-05:00An open letter to Justin Furstenfeld.Justin,<br />
<br />
Your music has saved my life almost more times than I can count.<br />
<br />
See, I was living near Dallas when "Calling you" hit local radio stations like a plague. I couldn't turn the dial without having that song shoved down my throat and it never received an honest listen. In fact, I had completely written off Blue October all together. <br />
<br />
Well, until I saw you live.<br />
<br />
I was at Edgefest 2004, when you came onstage and I heard the chorus for "Razorblade". You did this a capella and from the fucking heart. That's when the guitars kicked in and I became a fan. The song was everything I needed to hear at just the right moment. <br />
<br />
A year later I was in a bad way. With the little money in my possession I bought <i>History for Sale</i> and it gave me the solace I was looking for. It was the only thing I listened to on a 28 hour bus ride to my new home in South Carolina.<br />
<br />
I scoured the record stores in a desperate attempt to get some of your earlier work, but you guys were virtually unknown beyond the TX border. Then, I stumbled upon <i>Argue with a tree</i> and it remains the greatest live album I've ever heard. It inspired me to take some of the songs I'd written and try to get in a band with little to no success.<br />
<br />
I was there for about another year when I found myself at the next life shattering event. It was also at this time when I heard all of the locals talking about this great new band, which of course, ending up being yours. I still can't describe the pride I felt when I saw the band's cutout and multiple rows saved for <i>Foiled</i>. You guys finally made it.<br />
<br />
Soon, I was riding shotgun in my friend's car as I read the lyrics along with the tracks. Then, I heard your mom's voice mail on "Hate me" and I started crying like a little girl,yet unashamed. It sounded like the countless one's my mother has sent me. Again, you were there with just what I needed to hear.<br />
<br />
When I was 22 I was on the way to my Mom's, because she was going to take me to a hospital so I could commit myself. It was due to many things, but it was the worst break up of my life which was the most apparent. My MP3 player chose that instant to play "HRSA" and I don't have to tell you how close to home that hit. <br />
<br />
During my time there, I wasn't allowed to listen to my music and that was one of the only types of therapy that did me any good. I told a counselor this and, during my third group session she brought in a little boombox and hit play. She told us to draw a picture of our families. I worked diligently on mine with a glorious soundtrack of classical music. Suddenly, a familiar melody played softly through the speakers and I froze. A crayon fell from my hand as the lyrics of "Black Orchid" wrapped around me and I could no longer fight back the tears.<br />
<br />
It was when I was released that I truly began exorcising my demons with the power of the written word. After several failed attempts at getting published I instead focused on performing my work at open mics. I ripped my heart open in front of strangers, growing more and more honest. See, it became my mission to help others as you had helped me. <br />
<br />
That's why I created the website <a href="http://www.bledoutontoapage.com">www.bledoutontoapage.com</a>, to help reach out to others who feel utterly lost and alone. Your influence is proudly displayed on many of its pages. <br />
<br />
I said earlier that you saved my life and I meant it. One of the only reasons I'm still here is due to the catharsis and inspiration Blue October is able to provide. <br />
<br />
For that I can't thank you enough.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
Davlin<br />
<br />
P.S. I now love "Calling You".Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-81342495092252572602011-08-07T03:12:00.002-05:002011-08-07T13:02:04.516-05:00ResurgenceTonight I watched the brilliant Swedish film, <i>Let The Right One in</i>, followed by it's soulless American rehash, <i>Let Me In</i>. Seeing the remake directly after the source material made me sad as a moviegoer and crestfallen as a wanna be film maker. Everyday I read the hottest movie gossip online and I've yet to see something which isn't a sequel, remake, reboot, parody, homage, rip-off, new spin on an already archaic premise or yet another license property. You know we're getting desperate when they're asking us for 11 bucks to see a goddamn <i>Battleship</i> flick. I see this and I get angry about not getting into film school because of finances.<br />
<br />
<br />
In one year I've gotten around 4,600 hits on this blog and I'm thankful for every one of them. With my words I go dark places where most would ever fear to dread. Honesty is never easy to deal with. So, you can imagine my frustration when I see assclowns like The Situation selling 12,000 books and FUCKING Snooki at 9,000. Two individuals, and remember one calls himself the <i>Situation</i> and both of them are illiterate, have written books that other people have actually bought. <br />
<br />
Wake the fuck up, America.<br />
<br />
We are all getting dumber and it's nobody's fault but our own. The reason this shit is happening is because we refuse to do anything that makes us think. We won't read anything longer than a tweet. Until we show them we're ready for something new and dangerous, we're only going to get the same hackneyed things over and over again. We need a creative renaissance and it must be now.<br />
<br />
If you are ready for something more meaningful, I want you to go to my site, <a href="http://www.bledoutontoapage.com">www.bledoutontoapage.com</a>, and explore it for just one hour. You can always go back to facebook afterward.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-2454212315825056792011-06-07T12:35:00.002-05:002011-06-07T12:35:32.366-05:00For reasons which now escape meThe rain is coming down harder now than when I’d started. I throw the shovel away somewhere to my right before sitting down in the mud and patches of grass. I stare at my blistered hands and watch as the rain cleans them of the dirt, yet remains unable to wash away the guilt and knowledge of the things I’ve done here tonight.<br />
<br />
My breath is coming in short, ragged bursts as the night’s exertion finally catches up with me. I briefly contemplate lying on my back and inhaling the water as it fills my mouth. While it would certainly make the events to come easier, I probably shouldn’t make this a habit.<br />
<br />
First, there’s something which needs to be addressed. Even if I was smart enough to get away with what I’ve done here tonight, I do not want to. Right now, every second of freedom I have is borrowed at best and I’ve decided to use that time to think of what it is I’m going to tell them when they piece the story together with all the evidence I’ve left behind. <br />
<br />
That’s one of the worst things about all this, I think. There is absolutely no legitimate reason for my actions. You never hit me and were nothing but faithful during the year we were together. In truth, you treated me better and loved me more than I ever thought possible. I don’t know…maybe that was the problem.<br />
<br />
While watching the freshly filled hole I placed you, the man I loved with everything I had, my mind goes to the dark place. I imagine your hand bursting up through the dirt to grab me and pull me under, or the earth itself opening up to swallow me whole. At least that way we’d be together again. <br />
<br />
The last thing you said to me is still raw in my mind. We were having dinner, something I threw together quickly, because it was late and I was too tired from work to make anything extravagant. It was while we were quietly eating next to one another at the bar when you looked at me with those eyes I’ve always loved getting lost within and said, “Maybe we should think about getting a table.” Then, for some reason, I just snapped and …well, I guess you know the rest.<br />
<br />
It doesn’t make any sense, I know, and it’s also too late for apologies. I can hear sirens somewhere in the distance and they’re getting closer, so I’d better make this quick. I wanted to love you forever, honest I did, but I was never sure how. Now that I have to live with what’s transpired here tonight, I think I’ll finally be able to.<br />
<br />
The sky has finally stopped its weeping, but I’ve only just begun.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-29850550027281166252011-06-02T10:26:00.002-05:002011-06-02T10:59:17.689-05:00At somewhat of a loss for words.So much has changed over the last several months. I’ve said goodbye to everyone I knew, most of which only brought me down anyway, quit a job I hated and moved several states away to be with the only woman I’ve ever loved. So, yeah, things in my new life are much better than the one I’ve left behind. I’ve been dying to tell you about it all, which is something that’s proved difficult.<br />
<br />
See, I’ve tried almost every day to sit down and write like I used to…but I can’t. Instead, I just stare at a blank screen and wait for words that never materialize. They don’t come easy to me like they once did and it’s not due to a lack of things to talk about. Lately it’s growing more and more evident that there’s only one part of my old lifestyle I truly miss.<br />
<br />
It’s been my release since I was 19 and become crucial to the process of what I think defines me most. I’d like to talk about it, but when I bring it up I feel guilty, for various reasons, and it’s the one thing I don’t think she understands.<br />
<br />
I’ve been trying to think of more to say, but again, it’s proving difficult. I just wanted to let you know that I am doing well. Maybe someday the words will come and, when they do, you’ll be the first to know.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-57327166962431453182011-04-04T21:26:00.002-05:002011-04-04T21:27:53.781-05:00Fighting the darknessI wake up,<br />
after another bad dream.<br />
Lightning flashes through the window outside.<br />
My eyes take a moment to adjust to the gloom.<br />
The room is vastly different from the world I was just shown behind my lids.<br />
The dread dissipates the second I turn and see her face which is still sleeping soundly.<br />
For the first time since I awoke,<br />
I'm able to smile. <br />
With one arm I pull her tight against me.<br />
And when I close my eyes,<br />
the darkness doesn't seem quite as scary.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-10616697450461416502011-03-24T04:32:00.006-05:002011-03-24T05:28:06.125-05:00Possible Scattered Thoughts RewriteIt opens with me entering a therapist's office, carrying a spiral tightly under my arm. The doctor tells me to have a seat and I plop down on the couch. She asks me questions about who I am as an individual and I answer them, which will serve as the reader's introduction. This leads into the sections. <br />
<br />
Example<br />
<br />
Doc: You spoke earlier of Lisa and the scars that particular relationship gave you. Tell me about some of the others.<br />
<br />
Me: Well, for starters, there's something you should know.<br />
<br />
Doc: And what's that?<br />
<br />
<blockquote>I really suck at relationships</blockquote><br />
That's when I dive into all of my relationship stories and songs and read them to her from my spiral. The banter between her and I will serve as the piece's set up and epilogue. It will also give the reader my current perspective on the pieces which will help to lighten the entire tone of the book to show that things get better. It was way too bleak before and this change will make it an entirely different experience. <br />
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I think this will also hammer home the point I've been trying to get across this whole time; writing can save your life. I want people to see just how powerful an outlet putting your thoughts down on paper can be. There will also be longer stories which have never been seen before and fill in many of the gaps I've previously left out. Then, when I'm out of things to tell I leave the therapist's office and end the book with “<a href="http://davlinisnotyourfriend.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-sitting-in-my-car-smoking-cigarette.html">Words</a>”.<br />
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The best part? If you go onto <a href="http://www.bledoutontoapage.com">www.bledoutontoapage.com</a>, you can actually flip through the journal I read from in the book. You'll get several unique experiences while there as well. Hidden throughout the site are links to my various other projects, such as this here blog.<br />
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If they come here, they will see how the story has progressed, as well as a preview of my next book, <i>I've no reason to dream</i>.<br />
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It's late/early and this is about as far as I'm going to get for now. After a little more time spent expanding the idea, I'll start writing. I'm interested in hearing anyone's thoughts. If you like what you've heard so far, send someone a link to this post or put it up on your facebook page.<br />
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Because I like you, here's the link for you to copy and paste. <br />
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http://davlinisnotyourfriend.blogspot.com/2011/03/possible-scattered-thoughts-rewrite.htmlDavlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-64252165717381355012011-03-24T04:08:00.003-05:002011-03-24T04:08:14.975-05:00Today I'm going to try and have a heart to heart with my father.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-8435132955067148762011-03-24T03:57:00.001-05:002011-03-24T04:02:57.230-05:00SurrealI know I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I have too much energy. All those other sleepless nights were caused by loneliness and fear of what I might see once I slip off into the dreams. Tonight, however, is different, because I'm too excited about the next couple of days. After which I'm leaving to be with you for good and I feel like a small child does when Christmas is fast approaching. All of the possibilities of the things to come make sleep impossible. I've also been in this really deep, creative process that doesn't happen very often and I'm curious as to where it's going to take me. There are some really great ideas I can't wait to discuss with you and others which will have to remain a secret for now.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-15302774436933813302011-03-23T13:21:00.000-05:002011-03-23T13:21:50.503-05:00Her SmileI've seen a lot of expressions cross her face, but none of them compare to her smile. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioM_V5TgNfSo6y7bMuNw2s2sfh2NAPEyfXprbQ-GQCxNJ7WcRoKN1U-uiqQubcnfw7H0V0bZPSHNfJ9uwt0c37Y-LhmgZc7TV-bOkKbFcGq4xglDPACQCGzmpcssHBKQoVnLG6tXHSrhc/s1600/Ana+Fav+11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="218" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioM_V5TgNfSo6y7bMuNw2s2sfh2NAPEyfXprbQ-GQCxNJ7WcRoKN1U-uiqQubcnfw7H0V0bZPSHNfJ9uwt0c37Y-LhmgZc7TV-bOkKbFcGq4xglDPACQCGzmpcssHBKQoVnLG6tXHSrhc/s400/Ana+Fav+11.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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Whenever I know she's having a bad day it kills<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4I8YqxBrfTYZYrkxC4RiXSEiiRQl_nzRgCcxAQttb9EtiNwK1vhTyn_n2O71-Ilu9WNHQBm0NQ5AUkUDNtM6QrUeSoObof-hwpw22KIMcnm0d8tIxZOFnkJsy3IffwoGwlBJ3-UIssoo/s1600/Smile+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="142" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4I8YqxBrfTYZYrkxC4RiXSEiiRQl_nzRgCcxAQttb9EtiNwK1vhTyn_n2O71-Ilu9WNHQBm0NQ5AUkUDNtM6QrUeSoObof-hwpw22KIMcnm0d8tIxZOFnkJsy3IffwoGwlBJ3-UIssoo/s320/Smile+2.jpg" /></a></div>me and it becomes my mission to put one of them on her face again.<br />
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I don't care what it takes, because even looking like a fool is worth it if it<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtLkfYU_LnbRLbYd0pNts0XP8dMK40N_c6e7RtY9nu6R6BaLlUoHXEFTkPaqXjASFgNO1ctNHbypuaPu7AqnJqZoNLKnX5KusUO9kpAx1zo505HoGW-Nj9sDvM2xSCN3yNc30L7TEotTE/s1600/Smile+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="138" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtLkfYU_LnbRLbYd0pNts0XP8dMK40N_c6e7RtY9nu6R6BaLlUoHXEFTkPaqXjASFgNO1ctNHbypuaPu7AqnJqZoNLKnX5KusUO9kpAx1zo505HoGW-Nj9sDvM2xSCN3yNc30L7TEotTE/s320/Smile+1.jpg" /></a></div>makes her smile.<br />
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In fact, I'm going to spend the rest of my life doing everything I can just to see her smile.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi14mD32f5lkrgiprRUC79NA5SX2kjdTa46gGJajDw4zujf1nwgIsaLtSAfQovCyiJECd7-Ri6WI0FqLZ8oPV7iSqbz1TXE0VGwSYxjSEM-88QheFHa-bEOAWmfzjJYp-pBxjIQeL44ePY/s1600/Smile+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="173" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi14mD32f5lkrgiprRUC79NA5SX2kjdTa46gGJajDw4zujf1nwgIsaLtSAfQovCyiJECd7-Ri6WI0FqLZ8oPV7iSqbz1TXE0VGwSYxjSEM-88QheFHa-bEOAWmfzjJYp-pBxjIQeL44ePY/s400/Smile+3.jpg" /></a></div>Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-82122092655583758482011-03-23T12:50:00.002-05:002011-03-23T12:50:46.003-05:00A picture I sent in order to cheer her up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbecxJp7Cmiy8XHmc1gjHhyaZPPW7c1_epF0IoIQH-h4PRqWFysqr0WSqfJ8ftzuuB4QI0ksnYlcIjFFfb2Oj6J1zKf0OENMU2GtDyoMcYmwaIROE4fuOpwlddUDY0jYuenmxjDLnyIk/s1600/Beserker+Barrage.JPG" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbecxJp7Cmiy8XHmc1gjHhyaZPPW7c1_epF0IoIQH-h4PRqWFysqr0WSqfJ8ftzuuB4QI0ksnYlcIjFFfb2Oj6J1zKf0OENMU2GtDyoMcYmwaIROE4fuOpwlddUDY0jYuenmxjDLnyIk/s400/Beserker+Barrage.JPG" /></a></div>Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-40197883960182524052011-03-22T21:25:00.000-05:002011-03-22T21:25:18.884-05:00So, that was weird...Since I got back from Louisiana, her and I have talked every night until it was really late in the evening. It looks like tonight is going to break that streak. I wouldn't feel so nervous about it, had it not been from the way our previous conversation ended. <br />
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We were talking about our most prized possessions and when it was her turn she mentioned two things given to her by him. Then, I just locked up, because I honestly didn't know what to say and wasn't going to be the one to change the subject. I only tried once by asking her if she ever listened to Armor for sleep, to which I didn't receive a reply. Her internet is shaky at best and I'm not even sure if she got it, so we were left with about half an hour of uncomfortable silence. I asked her what she was doing, which was an activity I thought she'd enjoy being alone with, so I excused myself to do a little bit of writing. <br />
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I wanted to write about why I had asked her if she heard Armor For Sleep. They've got this amazing concept album called "What To Do When You're Dead". It tells the story of a boy who was to hurt by everything around that he ends his life and tries to reach out to the girl he loves from the afterlife before moving on. I thought it was something we could both relate to.<br />
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I don't want her to think she can't be open with me, even about this particular part of her life. It's just that when this comes up, I really don't know what to say. I part of me is jealous for reasons I know are stupid. I also know what we have as well as how we feel about each other and neither one of our pasts could ever do anything to change that. I still can't help how it makes that small part of me feel.<br />
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That being said, my feelings in this situation aren't anywhere near as important as hers, because she's the one who survived it. I just want to be there for her in whatever capacity she needs and sometimes I don't think I do a very good job. When I finally got her back on gmail, she just said she was going to bed due to a horrible connection. The goodbyes were forced and awkward. When I double checked to make sure everything is alright, she said she was cranky and I dropped the topic. Then, we each said the word "Goodnight" and she signed off.<br />
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This is the first time that's ever happened and I really don't like it. Hopefully, the best thing to do here is let her have her space and she'll talk to me about it tomorrow.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-57969134977507789562011-03-22T20:35:00.001-05:002011-03-22T20:36:26.250-05:00My favorite performanceIt's always hard to pick a piece that will actually works live in front of an audience. From my experience, they react much better if you've got some sort of visual hook, as opposed to just standing there and reading from a piece of paper. The longer I did it, the more I stated really <i>getting into it</i> and finding different ways to bring the words to life. When going to my stuff, I found <i>Maybe Insomnia's...</i> and I knew I had the chance to do something special. This is the only one I ever spent weeks practicing and I was excited when I finally had the chance to do it in front of a room full of friends and strangers.<br />
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The open mic I was frequenting at the time was in this blues club in Deep Ellum called Tucker's Blues. I loved this place, though it had difficulty bringing in a crowd for most of them. On this particular night there was only one other artist and she went by the name "God's Poet" and she was spectacular, though it was also thing thing I hated to follow with my dark, depressing early work. Luckily I had 7 supporters with me and they made up the majority of the audience.<br />
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I introduced myself and went right into my set. The whole thing is recorded, but I'm to lazy to see what order I did everything in. However, I do know I closed with this one.<br />
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To see a video of the performance, click <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/Disenchnatedyouths?feature=mhum#p/u/1/rYOGznCh6GQ">here</a><br />
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Some people have asked me if I knew what each segment of the dream means. Yes, I do and if you've read more than a few pieces of mine you would, too.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-33886054036984230192011-03-22T19:47:00.002-05:002011-03-22T19:50:14.051-05:00ValueI'm sitting on my couch for what feels like one of the last times. Almost all of my memories from this apartment take place on this piece of furniture. While on its cushions I've had phone and email conversations which changed my life, played x-box, ate all of my meals and even slept on them more than in my bed. This is also where I've done all of my writing and recording. I'm going to be sad to see it go.<br />
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When you move as much as I have, you learn pretty quick just how little material objects mean in the grand scheme of things. I've been spending the last couple of days trying to figure out which of my possessions I <i>have</i> to take with me when I move to Tennessee this weekend. I can only take a car load of stuff, which means almost everything in my apartment is going to be sold, given away, or thrown out. <br />
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My essentials so far<br />
-Laptop (It's the most valuable thing to me as it's my outlet)<br />
-MP3 player (my therapist)<br />
-Clothes (the law says I have to wear them and I like variety)<br />
-One tote with all my collectibles (most are broken, but I don't care)<br />
-Xbox 360 (it took me three years to get it back and it was a gift)<br />
-My framed posters, paintings (I at least want something to <i>look at</i>)<br />
-Boxes containing my DVDs and books (I get desperate I can get money for them later)<br />
-Box of recording equipment<br />
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Things for sale/sold<br />
-Couch (Though I will miss it)<br />
-Dresser<br />
-2 desks<br />
-2 chairs<br />
-TV<br />
-TV Stand<br />
-Bed<br />
-2 tables<br />
-Microphone (not actively pursuing the selling of it; if the potential doesn't buy it, I'm keeping it)<br />
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When I get my new place it is going to be pretty devoid of items meant for comfort and distraction. I'll probably have nothing more than a pallet on the floor, but at least my personality will be openly displayed and I'll be able to write. Actually, writing is probably all I'm going to be able to do.<br />
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Click <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/Disenchnatedyouths?feature=mhum#p/u/3/3WLi7WW61_k">here</a> for a bonus video!Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-5109673947381677242011-03-22T19:19:00.004-05:002011-03-22T19:19:42.719-05:00Today someone found my blog by searching "Davlin fucked" through Google. I'm not sure if that's awesome or disturbing.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4263415554988791780.post-14941845099471408352011-03-19T07:25:00.001-05:002011-03-19T07:26:54.126-05:00RestlessIt's currently 7:19 and I've yet to go to sleep. I've spent the time since I said goodnight to Ana reading <i>Preacher</i> and <i>The Walking Dead</i> until the sunlight began to seep in through the blinds in my living room. The truth is, I've barely slept at all since I came back to Texas. The second I did the bad dreams came back with a fury and waking up alone is proving difficult. I feel like a huge piece of me is missing, waiting several states away and I don't know if I can rest peacefully until it's returned. The good news is, I don't have much longer to wait until my time in limbo is over. I find myself laying on the couch at night wondering what the next chapter of my life is going to hold. At least one thing is certain, she will be an integral part to it and that gives me a future worth looking forward to.Davlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791107368194856232noreply@blogger.com1