jakazul-blog

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There is not a truth existing which I fear, or would wish unknown to the whole world.

Thomas Jefferson

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So this is the new James Bond?

Count me in.

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My Tumblr photo is 5 years old next month. I still have that hoodie, stuffed in the top of my closet, and while I no longer live in the house where it was taken, I do have a grey wall in my new house. I could set this up perfectly, and in December of 2014 I could update it with a new version of the same photo. But I have very few followers and I don't think anyone would get it.

I don't write on here enough. I don't write enough period. One year I wrote a song every night. Two on more than a few. That's upwards of 500 works in a year. I'm sure most of them weren't good, but there's a couple I still sing today.

A year before that photo was taken, I asked a girl out. I was so slow because I wasn't sure if she'd even reciprocate. We dated for over four years, and even though we don't talk much these days she's still my best friend in a very specific sort of way... And my only loyal Tumblr follower. Last night I asked another girl on a date, in another city, in another life it seems like, and still felt too nervous to speak on the inside. I don't know if that feeling will ever go away, and I kind of hope it doesn't.

It's weird, because I'm unbearably confident in so much of my life; unwavering, stable... And so messy, shaky, jittery, prone to over thinking in other parts. I think I'd be a published writer if I weren't scared of what an imaginary audience would think of the word files isolated on my computer. I think I'd have so many more dates if I didn't imagine complete strangers asking me about my past failures.

But I also think the guy in my picture would be happy for me if we met today. No, younger Jake. It turns out you're not in the same job, town, or relationship. You've got more scars inside and out, and you're still nervous when no one's looking. You still need a little push now and then. You still over-calculate every risk. But you're getting better at smiling when the sun comes out, and stopping sometimes to just breathe. You're a little closer to the ocean. You're a little closer.

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Though he had a penchant for self destruction, I enjoyed working with our jeweler. Though I've only been here coming up on half a year, I've known Mike for over half a decade. He was one of the people who helped me get started in my career, and we would very occasionally exchange emails and chat from time to time. I will miss his hyper-conservative Monty Python and Pink Floyd fueled banter, bellowed profanity, and oddly peaceful humming in the shop behind my cubby.

He is a man driven by his emotions, but all too rarely diluted by intellect. A reminder that the grass is not always greener, professionalism should always precede wrath, and grudges are not worth holding. I'll miss Mike, but I think he and the store will be better off.

On a less eulogistic note, my job has just gotten tremendously more fun and interesting. My custom workload has gone from overflow to overflowing.

Five designs yesterday, with more in queue.

Under my previous employer I grew the custom department over 300% per year. Now I have the chance to do it again, and this time with a bit of experience under my belt, and a much better team.

I'm excited!

But today I am off, and there's flooring to install, so I'm off to get poor. Cheers.

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Dear Spotify

I'm sorry. It's not your fault. If someone told me they had just listened to a marathon of relaxing ambient instrumentals, The Menzingers, Manchester Orchestra, and Blake Shelton... I wouldn't know what to do either. Probably set a cowboy on fire and give him a vintage microphone. Hard to say.

Oh goodness. Don't set a cowboy on fire.

The smell.

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jakazul's picture from last night cause you know….we got separated. Wasn't too worried about it though, the energy was pretty great and everyone there was into the show and knew the lyrics so it's a great situation to mingle with people!

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It's foggy out and I really want to stay in all day and play guitar.

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Illustrator Lili Chin's adorable series Dogs of the World illustrates 192 breeds of dogs grouped according to geographical origin.

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Writing music is one of my strongest passions, and should be a cathartic experience, but I've let it become so cumbersome.

When I first started writing guitar parts so I could play and sing, I was stringing little more than power chords and double stops together. It's basic, it's easy, but it's a simplicity that allows flow. On one hand, there's the instant gratification of being able to hear a semblance of what's in your head almost immediately, and on the other there's a basis from which to expand. If you know the chords, you can spice it up later.

But I let it become a chore. I made it a big deal that I had to write something new and interesting every time, something complex, unheard. The thing is, I like pop punk. I like catchy hooks and laissez-farire emotional lyrics. I always joke that most punk records don't use more than five chords a song, and there's some truth to that. It's not that you shouldn't strive for more, but you've got to walk to crawl. Besides, as much as I enjoy learning new things and playing more interesting guitar, I've never wanted to be the next Joe Satriani.

It's so easy to cloud your creativity with all of these self-imposed restrictions, and with fear. I know half of what I write will never leave my bedroom, yet I critique it like it's a presidential address. Sometimes a stupid lovesong is just that.

I remember my an old girlfriend and me listening to Blink 182, Starting Line, Sum 41, Offspring back when we were thirteen or fourteen. They may not be my all-time favorite bands now, but they're what I grew up on. They're proof that your passion and enjoyment can be contagious. Blink 182 will probably never be confused for Beethoven, but it doesn't need to be. It's still good music in its own right, and it still has the magic.

I don't know what song made me fall in love with music. I've seen videos of me dancing around in the kitchen when I was a kid singing Brooks & Dunn songs, and I remember my parents singing me to sleep with The Beatles and church hymns. I know my first album was Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, which I still have, and I still smile when I hear "Neon Moon" and "All My Loving" to this day too. As I discovered in the car today, I still know all the words to "Fat Lip" and "Rollercoaster."

I don't care if I'm ever anybody's favorite musician, favorite song, or first memory. I'm relatively sure that I will never compete with The Beatles for fame, not even with Ringo... But I'd like to be that song that makes you smile when you catch a few notes years later. 

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Update

I'm awful at updating this thing, so... 1. I'm getting a house! Closing is end of the month. All I have do do is put in new floors in the bedrooms and paint everything and then I can move my four pieces of furniture in. I'm kidding, it's more like three. 2. I may be going on a date soon! But who knows. I asked a girl on a date. Remember when you asked people out in person, and they answered right then? Yeah, that sucked. Seriously, this shouldn't be a big deal, but having lived in this town for several months now without meeting hardly anyone outside of work. I'm chalking it up as a win. 3. I'm seeing Brand New next month! And my family. And Arian, Ron, Kathleen, Jess... It's gonna be a busy October. At least when all the traveling is done I can come home and, uh, move furniture and wonder why my bank statement is so low. And on that note, time for sleep.

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You were right. I knew it then, somewhere, and I know it now. It's been a year now, a year tomorrow in fact, and I remember wondering where I'd be a year from then, and I'd never have guessed here. I'd have never guessed I'd be a city away, be working a new job, looking for a new house. I thought of you today, looking for flooring of all things. I'm determining what wood I want for my master bedroom, assuming I get this place (that I keep meaning to text you about) and I realized that there was a time, a year ago, that I'd have had you next to me looking. That I'd have wanted your opinion. We always disagreed on how to make a home. Seems symbolic, doesn't it? But here I am. A year has passed and I'm a world away figuring life out, you're back home with a new guy. And you have no idea how much that makes me smile. Not cause of the irony, that too maybe, but that you're happy. I read your posts about how happy you are with him, how confident you are now, how comfortable you're getting with yourself. I'm so proud of you, kid. For a while I cried, then I wished it had happened sooner. For a while I thought we'd make it work, then that I'd make it work, then that I'd spent too much time working at it to have it fail. But in the end I think I'm wrong on all counts. I wouldn't take back a single night with you, good or bad. I learned. I needed to learn, even when it hurt. And now I think you're happy, I hope you're happy, and when I see you next month I hope you have nothing but good stories to tell me. And even with everything so different, so many different things making up my life than a year ago, different concerns and different victories, when I just sit back, I'm happy too. I wandered through downtown yesterday alone. I walked what had to be miles and miles and never had a destination in mind. I used to be so restless, even just laying next to you. You used to be so anxious. I think we're better now. You were right. It was over. I didn't fight.

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I can hear your voice on the phone when you're up all alone, cause I am up too.

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nothing will ruin your 20s more than thinking you should have your life together already.

I need to write this on every wall of my room.  (via emiliaclarkss)