disconnected, disenchanted. It’s been a rough few days. Tomorrow I finally get back out on the street and work, and hopefully that will lift my spirits. It’s been an empty time, where my mantra has been fuck it all and all I could do was think about time, energy, and money spent, and the thoughts kept turning to cancelling all performance except the street for months. Fuck it all. I can’t afford this. I began 2007 with over a grand, busted my ass, and have .45 cents and not even a fucking “thank you” to show for it. In on the outside, a part of them but never used, and yeah – I know that some of it is my fault for not stepping up – but I can’t count how many times I’ve said “use me”.
I need a fucking place of my own, but I haven’t been able to save a dime. It all went straight back into unpaid exhaustion and the booze to try to forget it all and have fun, and ignore the fact that after time spent preparing for EB & SGS, and for a future show at BC. Maybe.

I don’t know.

Something really needs to change. I need to come back.

Two weeks and I’m back in my van, barely a dime to find a home, I feel like things keep going in circles with no growth – and I really need to figure out why – and change it.

I don’t want to be an asshole. I don’t want to say that I’m not doing any performance unless I’m paid, but fuck – all I can think about is a sold out show of about 500 at $25 a pop, the eight hours I spent at Great American beforehand helping load in and set everything up, the time and money spent…

Something needs to change. I absolutely love working with them – being around them – but… perhaps it’s the fact that I’m still fucking living at someone elses house, that the rest of my life is in my van. Someone elses bed, someone elses space. I help, and she appreciates it – but I look back at me, look at my history, and really question myself.

This morning she said I was the most unique person she has met – but still, I can’t help but feel like I am something of a failure. It’s been four months without my own place, and the circle is weighing on me. I think of the past, think of now, am terrified of the future if this is what it holds and the thoughts have not been healthy.

No, I don’t want another job. I want to make this work. I want to cure myself – in so many ways.

I think that if I told my pop that I did all of this for free he would think me a complete fool – and yeah, many people have thought that, bot more times than not it been because I love what I do and I really can’t ever see going back to a shit-ass job that feels like it can control me, or thinks I give a fuck about it.

A sincere FUCK YOU to the person who said I should put my dreams on hold. What are you, where are you going? You’re no example at all.

I’m not like that anymore – consider it learning my lesson. I don’t want a steadypaycheck, I want the life that I’ve neglected for so long, the life that I’m trying to make happen, and if it means sleeping in my van – then fuck it. I’ll see how long I can do that before everything snaps. All or nothing…

But I want a home/room of my own, and perhaps I’m an idiot – I’m not willing to compromise there, either. I want it in the city, with good people.

I will make right on my debts, one way or another.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My doctor is wanting me to get back on meds because while my viral load has dropped dramatically, my CD4 count is in the danger zone. My mistake – I was focusing on eliminating the virus from my body instead of bringing it all back to perfect health. . Sending out an email to him right after this asking about my counts from the latest blood work. We’ll see.

The song that’s been going through my head these days:

Smashing Pumpkins – Tales Of A Scorched Earth Lyrics



Farewell goodnight last one out turn out the lights

And let me be, let me die inside

Let me know the way from of this world of hate in you

Cause the dye is cast, and the bitch is back

And we're all dead yeah we're all dead

In side the future of a shattered past

I lie just to be real, and I'd die just to feel

Why do the same old things keep on happening?

Because beyond my hopes there are no feelings

Bless the martyrs and kiss the kids

For knowing better, for knowing this

Cause you're all whores and I'm a fag

And I've got no mother and I've got no dad

To save me the wasted, save me from myself

I lie just to be real, and I'd die just to feel

Why do the same old things keep on happening?

Because beyond my hopes there are no feelings

Everbody's lost just waiting to be found

Everyone's a thought just waiting to fade

So fuck it all cause I don't care

So what somehow somewhere we dared

To try to dare to dare for a little more


I lie just to be real, and I'd die just to feel

Why do the same old things keep on happening?

Because beyond my hopes there are no reasons


end blather.

disconnected, disenchanted. It’s been a rough few days. Tomorrow I finally get back out on the street and work, and hopefully that will lift my spirits. It’s been an empty time, where my mantra has been fuck it all and all I could do was think about time, energy, and money spent, and the thoughts kept turning to cancelling all performance except the street for months. Fuck it all. I can’t afford this. I began 2007 with over a grand, busted my ass, and have .45 cents and not even a fucking “thank you” to show for it. In on the outside, a part of them but never used, and yeah – I know that some of it is my fault for not stepping up – but I can’t count how many times I’ve said “use me”.
I need a fucking place of my own, but I haven’t been able to save a dime. It all went straight back into unpaid exhaustion and the booze to try to forget it all and have fun, and ignore the fact that after time spent preparing for EB & SGS, and for a future show at BC. Maybe.

I don’t know.

Something really needs to change. I need to come back.

Two weeks and I’m back in my van, barely a dime to find a home, I feel like things keep going in circles with no growth – and I really need to figure out why – and change it.

I don’t want to be an asshole. I don’t want to say that I’m not doing any performance unless I’m paid, but fuck – all I can think about is a sold out show of about 500 at $25 a pop, the eight hours I spent at Great American beforehand helping load in and set everything up, the time and money spent…

Something needs to change. I absolutely love working with them – being around them – but… perhaps it’s the fact that I’m still fucking living at someone elses house, that the rest of my life is in my van. Someone elses bed, someone elses space. I help, and she appreciates it – but I look back at me, look at my history, and really question myself.

This morning she said I was the most unique person she has met – but still, I can’t help but feel like I am something of a failure. It’s been four months without my own place, and the circle is weighing on me. I think of the past, think of now, am terrified of the future if this is what it holds and the thoughts have not been healthy.

No, I don’t want another job. I want to make this work. I want to cure myself – in so many ways.

I think that if I told my pop that I did all of this for free he would think me a complete fool – and yeah, many people have thought that, bot more times than not it been because I love what I do and I really can’t ever see going back to a shit-ass job that feels like it can control me, or thinks I give a fuck about it.

I’m not like that anymore – consider it learning my lesson. I don’t want a steady paycheck, I want the life that I’ve neglected for so long, the life that I’m trying to make happen, and if it means sleeping in my van – then fuck it. I’ll see how long I can do that before everything snaps. All or nothing…

But I want a home/room of my own, and perhaps I’m an idiot – I’m not willing to compromise there, either. I want it in the city, with good people.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My doctor is wanting me to get back on meds because while my viral load has dropped dramatically, my CD4 count is in the danger zone. My mistake – I was focusing on eliminating the virus from my body instead of bringing it all back to perfect health. . Sending out an email to him right after this asking about my counts from the latest blood work. We’ll see.

end blather.

In Between…

In between asleep and awake, in betweeen dreams and reality there is a place. This is the place where our thoughts run rampant. Exqauisite thoughts, delight, we try to sleep but everything is so delicious. We go places saturated with wonder, we go places wrapped up i beauty – beauty and pain. A world where we are free to think, to imagine – to CREATE – anything.

This is our world – and ya know what?

Always has been.

Dream, fuckers. Make your dreams true – they are.

You know how hard we need to work – look around you – but fuck – it’s not – NOT work, just life, and just life, and just life and

ask yourself this question – every fucking day:

Are you living your life??

Are you living yours – or someone elses?

There’s something going on – I know it – I feel it in the people I meet, but motre in the energy around me. Ain’t no small shit, people.

And this, having the first diatribe erased by a computer glitch – will end my preach.

Fuck you. I Love You.

Friday night, in the place that I currently call home, alone. Gloriously alone.

I adore her company – I adore her completely – but solitude is what I need, a nest is what I need, a home. A HOME.
Here, there is occasional solitude, but still – it is hers, I am only a visitor for the time, a guest, a stranger. These walls don’t recognize me, nor I them – if they did, they would vanish. If they were mine, there would be peace.
Always the stranger, I lose myself, but I fight – I fight with all of the humility I have, I fight with all the strength to retain me, I fight with all i have learned – but when it comes to words, to writing, I notice the difference, the absence – and it compounds upon itself, collapses.

In times like this – trying to find the right words – that is when I feel my weakness. That is when I know that something is amiss inside of me. Words have usually been my friend – written, at least. I write because I need to. I write because only then can it make sense, these things inside of my head, soul, me, I.

There are things I need to do, things that need to happen. Bring me back to me. Bring me back home.

Earlier, I searched for “Edwardian” on my gmail account to find pieces to promote the upcoming days – and the emails took me back to a place that I had forgotten, setting up the Dresden Dolls DVD shoot at the Great American Music Hall.

I had a way with words then, an agreement, a delicious deal – we used to work together. Simplicity mixed with eloquence, excitement, love.

Where did that go?  It was as simple as this, and this was always at the time:

Hells yeah.

Hello, Mike, how the heck are ya? We’ve exchanged emails a bit in the
past for an earlier DD show – I can’t express how happy I am that
you’ll be with us this time. Perfect. Just perfect. All giddy and shit
I am, because instead of simply hearing about the amazing things
happening, I GET TO BE THERE!

Can I get a Hells yeah?               Allriiiiight! Dig it.

Oh, and hi Mike – how the heck are YOU? I see you’re hanging out up
there in my little cc box as well. How’s that managing thing treatin’
ya? Seems, at least from this end, to be going pretty damn well. Thank
you. I love you more than the coffee I’m drinking this very second –
and I really really like it. Made the perfect cup.

Wait. I’m cc’d too. Damn reply all button. Why the hell would I send
this to myself? Just a second – I’ll take care of that…

Okay. done.

Alright, Mike – no not you, the other one – yeah – the one that has
people flying through the air *without* airplanes – what are your
thoughts? I think that Vau de Vire & The Dresden Dolls will be more
than enough together, but (and I of course would also like your input
on this, Amanda) how would you like to coordinate it?

Will it be separate from The DD, blending together, simutaneous?

Hm. No, not simultaneous. Scratch that. Way too much distraction. Too
much beauty and people explode, and I’m not cleaning up the mess.
I dig the idea about choreography to a couple songs, though. You cool
with that, Amanda?

Mike – as far as musical accompaniment for your performance, what are
you thinking? Of course you would know what suits you the best, but I
would LOVE to bring Zoe Keating in if she’s available (
www.zoekeating.com ).

Okay, it’s 10:13 pm on Friday night and time for another cup of coffee
and answering more emails before I go out and play.

Please get back to me with thoughts.

piano talk, love and drums…

(and caffeine)

~ Casey

<!–
D(["mb","

– Show quoted text –

On Fri, 4 Mar 2005 21:13:49 -0500, Amanda Palmer
<amanda@dresdendolls.com> wrote:
> show is confirmed, let\’s get rolling…….
> you should be tlaking to casey porter as welll, who is the brigade master,
> ie. sets up all things theatrical for us. he\’s cc\’d.
> lets plan.
> a
>
> —–Original Message—–
> From: Vau de Vire Society [mailto:mike@vaudeviresociety.com]
> Sent: Saturday, February 26, 2005 12:48 AM
> To: amanda@dresdendolls.com
> Subject: Re: April 26th SF gig.
>
> Yo, back-atcha.  We are free on the 26th….and holding that date for our
> little SF shin-dig together.  When the confirmation-word comes down, spit my
> way will ya.
> Mike
> —– Original Message —–
> From: "Amanda Palmer" <amanda@dresdendolls.com>
> To: "Vau de Vire Society" <mike@vaudeviresociety.com>
> Sent: Friday, February 25, 2005 8:53 AM
> Subject: Re: Dresden Dolls and Vau de Vire Society
>
> > Yo
> > We\’re confirming any day now. We\’re holding on any support band and hoping
> > you guys will be free? We should know is a few days…..
> >
> > A
> >
> > —–Original Message—–
> > From: "Vau de Vire Society" <“,1]
);

//–>

– Show quoted text –

On Fri, 4 Mar 2005 21:13:49 -0500, Amanda Palmer
<
amanda@dresdendolls.com> wrote:
> show is confirmed, let’s get rolling…….
> you should be tlaking to casey porter as welll, who is the brigade master,
> ie. sets up all things theatrical for us. he’s cc’d.
> lets plan.
> a
>
> —–Original Message—–
> From: Vau de Vire Society [mailto:mike@vaudeviresociety.com]
> Sent: Saturday, February 26, 2005 12:48 AM
> To: amanda@dresdendolls.com
> Subject: Re: April 26th SF gig.
>
> Yo, back-atcha.  We are free on the 26th….and holding that date for our
> little SF shin-dig together.  When the confirmation-word comes down, spit my
> way will ya.
> Mike
> —– Original Message —–
> From: “Amanda Palmer” <amanda@dresdendolls.com>
> To: “Vau de Vire Society” <mike@vaudeviresociety.com>
> Sent: Friday, February 25, 2005 8:53 AM
> Subject: Re: Dresden Dolls and Vau de Vire Society
>
> > Yo
> > We’re confirming any day now. We’re holding on any support band and hoping
> > you guys will be free? We should know is a few days…..
> >
> > A

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yeah, this is just a tiny little piece of some pretty insane conversation – but fuck – I had it, there was magick, I was…

I was ALIVE.

Wow. I just gave you about four emails from roughly thirty from such a delightful and exciting time – but yeah – I used to write – I used to *instigate* very well.

I need to bring that back. There are things that I need to do.

Like – create an incredible community household that is thirsting for the world we are creating.

Pffffft. Words? Fuck it.

I’ll find them again.

~ ~  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In other gnews;

I am completely unprepared for the corporate fire gig that I have tomorrow night, but it will happen, and it will happen beautifully. I mean
fuck – all I need to do is have confidence, right? I know the shit, even though I haven’t been able to practice staff much in minths…

Edwardian ball – Anastasia and I gots a little somethin fun for ya, but…
The night after, Sunday Gorey Sunday –

For the first time evaaar, due to a sleepless night and an idea, I have created a brief (abouts seven minutes) skit, wordless but with an incredible sound design that Anastasia and I are working on – my (our?) very first stage performance – concieved, written and planned and directed by yours truly. Should be kinda worth seeing, I hope. The idea rocks, at least – but fuck – there’s a lot to do.
> >

Until then…

I love you.

And after, of course.

Sometimes
it’s overwhelming.
I think of The Enchanted Forest, and of my brief life there
and, yeah, it was time to leave –
but there was a magick that cannot be duplicated
in the feel, in the people
and sometimes
it is overwhelming, and I miss
the energy
the beauty
the passion, and, at the time
perhaps even now but I don’t know
the way that all the death
make me change
make me grow and
it’s a strange thing to miss, that –
but it was and always will be
that part of magick
that part of magick
that changed so much.

Paradigm Shift

a spiral, but tight. I climb slowly, ascend bit by bit, I know what is right but when it’s time to come back around I step back down, back down and do it all over again, there is a way out of this and I know it but I don’t listen to me and I need to start hearing cut the devil off of my shoulder.
Every time it will be different. I get closer, but come back to the familiar afraid to let go of these crutches that have been there for far too long, too long to ignore.
but still – I do better, each time longer. Each time with more knowledge that I will never get to where to who to what I can be with these hindering my steps. All or nothing, but in this case it’s the nothing that leads to the all.
Moderation? Moderation. Switch my mind, re-wire. Re-think, think more clearly.
Fight as hard and as long as it takes.

a spiral, but tight. I climb slowly, ascend bit by bit, I know what is right but when it’s time to come back around I step back down, back down and do it all over again, there is a way out of this and I know it but I don’t listen to me and I need to start hearing cut the devil off of my shoulder.
Every time it will be different. I get closer, but come back to the familiar afraid to let go of these crutches that have been there for far too long, too long to ignore.
but still – I do better, each time longer. Each time with more knowledge that I will never get to where to who to what I can be with these hindering my steps. All or nothing, but in this case it’s the nothing that leads to the all.
Moderation? Moderation. Switch my mind, re-wire. Re-think, think more clearly.
Fight as hard and as long as it takes.