insomnia was cooler when you were 13 years old bc you could use the extra time practicing cherub rock by the smashing pumpkins on guitar hero 3: legends of rock
One of the many musicians my songwriting style has been Billy Corgan of The Smashing Pumpkins. Here is a snippet of one of my favorite songs to play = "Cherub Rock"
I get so scared of what my family, my spouse, my friends and acquaintances might think of the things I write. Of what they might think of me because of something I wrote. This may sound ridiculous, in the context of the essay I was going to post this week. After all, I’m almost 40. These particular things occurred decades ago. And I am very purposeful in the way I write about them; it’s not like I’m handing people pages of my teenage diary, sharing all of my secrets.
But then, it’s not so much about secrets, per se, as it is—maybe I don’t want to have that discussion right now. Maybe I want to write something and have it stand as it is, not have to process it further with my loved ones. Or: we all have many aspects to our personalities. We speak differently to our parents than we do to our significant others, differently to our significant others than we do to our friends, and differently to our friends than we do to a stranger in a barroom. Even if they ultimately all know almost everything about us, we reveal that information in different ways, at different times, depending on who we’re with. I find the same to be true in my writing.
It is easier for me to bare all of the weirdest, saddest, ugliest parts of myself to strangers than to my loved ones. Because strangers don’t have any preconceived notions about me that could be shattered by my true confessions. Because even if a stranger is upset by what they find in my writing, it is an impersonal upset. They may be against everything I stand for, but they don’t know me, so they can’t be disappointed in me. Nor can they be hurt by what they find of themselves.
I’ve hurt people with things I’ve written. I’ve hurt people by what I’ve revealed of myself, and what I’ve kept hidden. I’ve hurt people with the ways I’ve portrayed them; by using them as the raw material for my art.
(Let me out)
4
Like when [redacted] said: “Why did you [redacted] in that story you wrote? It makes me feel [redacted].”
(Let, let me out)
—Jessie Lynn McMains, from “tell me all of your secrets” (August 2021)
"Here they come, pouring out of the blue! Little arrows, for me & for you!"
"You're falling in love again! Falling in love again!"
My (Technically) First Rock-afire art I've posted here! I've had this idea for a while, making art based off of different songs from Rock-Afire shows, and while I did one as a gift for @mr-grizzed, I won't be posting that one so this is the first public one of it's kind!
also i am very much a big fan of em evolving from a unsettling predatory seeming type [it was the unblinking eyes and headaches he was giving people by staring too intensely, pre yeshua times] to him genuinely handling himself so well that he hasn't messed up & accidentally hurt anyone besides himself in decades. he really patiently sanded his own edges until there's nothing but the round and soft and non-threatening