She’s Gone, but I’m OK

I don’t know quite what to say…

I’m sure you think of me, but you…. I don’t know.

I think you let me walk away.

Even though you begged for me to stay.

But you had to know this would happen.

You had to know giving up and giving him more of a chance than you ever did me

Would push me away.

Why did you beg me to stay?

I get that we are friends. I get that you care.

But I know you don’t understand. If you did, you wouldn’t have tried.

But you tried. At least there is that.

I tried, too. I did. Honest and true.

But I couldn’t handle the pain. I couldn’t, things weren’t the same.

I could tell you about my adventures, my days.

But you stopped telling me about yours long ago.

Instead, you told him.

Occasionally sending pictures of yourself to me,

The ones you knew you looked good in. The ones I know you took to send him.

And those sunsets…. that was our thing.

“Look at this sunset” we would say.

I walked miles, even planning my day,

Just to be sure you got a photo of my sunset, usually in different states.

And then you stopped sending me sunsets…

You started sharing his with all your social media friends…

And I had to pretend I was okay.

I couldn’t even do that.

I would say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for walking away.

But I don’t know if I would mean it.

I can’t be sorry for watching out for me.

Just like I know you are probably not sorry for watching out for yourself.

You wouldn’t have given up on me, and be so excited about him,

If you were sorry.

You are sorry for hurting me, I understand that.

But that is about it.

I hope, hope, hope I don’t change my mind

And that I decide to see you in person before love makes me blind again.

Someone else, someone new, but nobody like you.

I was told, “That’s the point, Jaeg.”

But they don’t get it.

They don’t know you like I do.

I wouldn’t say “I love you” in the way I do

If it wasn’t, weren’t, true.

So tonight I will once again party. Go out, socialize, refuse weed and drink to my delight

(Though probably not a drop tonight)

Because, without the damage that was done,

I wouldn’t be as eager to keep going on.

Life, as confusing as it is, is something I can make great.

I have the power. I have the ability.

This year I hope to meet you…

But a large part of me hopes you aren’t there.

That you have gone.

That you’ve decided to live your life, too.



I Kissed a Girl

It is late, I am tired. The events of last night have been circling my mind all day.

I kissed a girl.

Okay, here is the story.

Woke up, wrote for this blog, then woke my bandmates up so we could get to practice on time (we didn’t). I didn’t feel great. I woke up feeling the pangs of depression and anxiety, possibly fueled by whatever dream I had that night. I ignored the feelings to the best I could, and decided to focus on music. Practice was okay, I am learning to sing the harmonies to up our performances, but I am not great at them yet. I found this, on top of not finding the bass tone I liked, to be stressful. I ate some old guacamole, and it made me a bit sick to my stomach. This was annoying because I was invited to a party and genuinely wanted to make it. Fortunately I didn’t eat too much, sensing it might have been bad, and I drank a lot of water to combat whatever  bacteria threatened to make me ill. I distracted myself from the slight stomach ache by fixing my bass amp, thus fixing my tonal problems.

Feeling better after eating a meal of eggs in a bagel, taking a quick shower, and shaving my face and head, I left to the party. Sean joined me, which I was pretty stoked on. We arrived late, but fashionably, and I felt a bit anxious to socialize, so I did what any 24 year old would do in that situation: Poured myself a tall cup of jungle juice and began to sip away! About halfway through my first cup, I felt limber and began to chat with people. I discovered a girl who had been flirty the night before was in a relationship, so I sorta avoided her that night. I chatted with my new friends, with Sean, cuddled a couple dogs and a ferret, and sang at the top of my lungs with others to whatever classic pop songs they were playing.

Eventually I was wasted, but in a good way.  I was having a great night, so was everyone else. Near the end of the night I sat next to a beautiful French-Canadian girl, whom is in town for work. She had given me her hat to wear early into the night, and I rocked it! Anyways, beside the point. She kissed me on the cheek (unsure why), so I kissed hers back… then we kissed. Then I realized I wanted to kiss her some more, so we started making out… right on the couch… in front of everyone. Classic me, though, if you knew about my incredibly odd, yet somehow awesome sex life (I am shy, and don’t typically pursue women that way).

Well one thing led to another, nothing sexual happened, but she somehow ended up straddling me and that’s when we decided to take it outside. Ya know, because people were watching at this point haha!

I want to see this girl again, and I will at my bands show this Wednesday. I just hope I can spend more time with her, because I don’t kiss just anyone. You have to stand out to me, and this girl definitely does. She is beautiful, intelligent, and is in Vegas on assignment from work to photograph the desert. I am not sure what her company does, but I want to learn. Crushes are stupid, and I am leaving soon. But I would love to get to know her some more. Hopefully kiss her again. Kissing is cool.

I am Useless as a Drunk

Today I feel like crying.

I miss talking to the Sun. I miss my fathers embrace. I miss every friend I no longer speak to, or even remember. I miss all these people that I no longer associate with. I miss them so much.

I don’t understand life, why we are alive, why I am alive, or what the purpose of being alive is. I do not understand. It can be overwhelming without a strong mind. This is why I am considering a sober life. Right now I am thinking ha! Good luck with that! But I just… it is difficult to explain. I am useless intoxicated.

I’ve disappointed loved ones, and it makes me sick to my stomach. My mom and several other family members. Ex girlfriends. But most importantly, I’ve been disappointing myself. I can’t express how much time and potential I have wasted behind a joint or glass. I miss feeling normal. I miss feeling sober, fresh, and confident I can pass a drug test if I need to.

Today I am nursing a hangover. Last night, after rationalizing each drink as “letting loose”, I quickly became drunk. Not buzzed, DRUNK. Half a bottle of wine, plus 7 or so shots of vodka, will do that to me. It wasn’t much fun, I knew my slowed motor skills were holding me back from conversation, creativity, and not to mention my stupid drunk texts. Ugh. I shouldn’t have sent those texts. They weren’t bad or anything! They were just dumb, and probably obvious that liquor fueled them. Oh well, the person I sent them to is cool. She may be understanding.

Drinking holds me back, I feel. As much, if not more, than marijuana. Oh, and I took a rationalized hit of weed while staggering drunk last night, too. That was stupid. Being intoxicated restricts me in a lot of ways. I can’t speak when stoned, I am obnoxious when drunk. I am not confident when stoned, I am careless when drunk. I used to think marijuana fueled my creativity (and it did in the beginning), but I realized a few weeks ago that it has, after years of use, dumbed me. On marijuana I am unmotivated, and content with doing nothing throughout my highs. With alcohol I’m just stupid. Weed- over thinking. Alcohol- not thinking enough. I know myself enough now to know I am a much better person overall when sober.

I also know there is a time and a place for everything, such as smoking with friends while camping, or drinking because it’s the weekend and I’m at a party. I will learn if I want to consume what is offered in those moments, but I’m not sure I will… I am heartbroken because of my wasted years being stoned and shit-faced.

So today I go back to my regular drinking habits: water. Today I deny offers of weed. Today I get back on track. It isn’t that big of a deal, I’m not an alcoholic, I just want to be the greatest human being I can be. To me, that includes sobriety.

To anybody reading this post, I encourage you to cut out at least 1 thing that holds you back. For me, it is marijuana and alcohol.

My Journey to the Sun (dream)

Yesterday, early in the morning, I said my final goodbye to my ex girlfriend… The Sun.

I already miss her, as one usually does… but it is for the best. I think. My heart aches, she meant more to me than anyone ever has. I sent her the following message, and then I blocked her across all social media, hoping by doing so I can mend and move on more efficiently.

“Sun, I have to say goodbye. I am unhappy. Your decision to pursue another guy is too painful. I thought I could remain friends; I can’t. I wish you the best, and always will. -Moon”

Words I didn’t write. Words my brother condensed from the first paragraph of an 8 page goodbye letter I had written and sent to him, and my mom, to read. They are basically my words, just better written than what I could have, or would have, done. I will post the full letter in a few months once this girl and I have had adequate time to recover. Plus she has access to this blog, I don’t want her reading it, thus making goodbye more difficult for her than it has to be.

Oh, how I miss her.

I just woke up from a dream, one where there was a long journey just to see her for 1 brief moment.

I was on a trip, I’m not sure where to, but I was in the back seat of a car. My mom was driving, my brother and sister (from my dads side) and their families were in two different cars. I don’t know who was in the passenger or the back seat next to me, I could assume my brothers from my moms side, but they were there. During this trip I knew I would see Sun, her town was along the way. She knew, too.

Along the way my family had stopped at the top of a beautiful cliff, but when we got out there was someone else that pulled up. He had his girlfriend sit in a chair, then he hit a baseball with a bat towards her. This was disgusting to me (duh) and her best friend said he shouldn’t do that, but she rationalized it. I don’t remember what happened, but I ended up “rescuing” this girl. Something to do with leading her down the cliff to the gorgeous waters below.

After loading back into the car, we drove through Sun’s small town. She gave us basic, but useful directions. “Turn left on _____ road. House number 347. It’s a small, 1 level home.” Easy. It was night by the time we arrived. Late, probably 2 am.

We made the turn, skipping “New Hampshire” and “President’s” streets. Each home was close together, abstractly scattered, and were encapsulated by a wall that was similar to homes in shape- A small cottage like building hidden/ protected by a 2 story country home styled wall and roof. I guess for protection from the elements and wildlife. My mom walked with me to find her house. On the directions it was house number 347, but based of her houses description it was house number 348.

My mom and I were opening the barn style doors of the outer shells of the houses, and she asked if I’ve ever seen a certain animal before (she said a made up name I’ve never heard before). I said no, and saw two massive ox-like creatures with huge horns. I asked her to get behind the doors to be safe, just in case the beast attacked. It didn’t, and she didn’t, plus the doors closed between us. I stepped outside, the beast was gone, no longer on our minds. Then I called the Sun. I was standing outside the house she described (even though it was 2 stories, not 1), but I wanted to be sure I had the right place. Plus, I didn’t know which bedroom window was hers. I imagined waking up her brother, or even worse, her dad, in the dead of night, unexpectedly, and uninformed.

“Hello?” came the tiny, yet more grown up voice of her niece (her niece is younger than what her voice sounded like in this phone call).

“Hey, I’m here!” I replied, not fully realizing it wasn’t Sun. The niece spoke a few words of gibberish, I then I realized who I was talking to.

“Hey, wake up [Sun] and give her the phone,” I spoke clear and calmly, as one usually does to a toddler.

“What’s going on?” came the tired, surprised to be woken up voice of the Sun. My heart felt happy, I’m sure I smiled in real life.

“I’m here, I’m outside!”

I saw the light in her bedroom window was already on. She cautiously peered through the window, looking as beautiful as ever, hastily moving with joy when she saw me, unlocking her window. My heart was happy. She quickly opened the window and sat on the edge. I reached out to catch her, but she dropped before I could prepare myself properly. I laughed because I thought it was pretty comical that she didn’t wait for me to be ready to catch her. The laugh and the jolt from stepping towards her in my attempt to catch her physically woke me up. I tried to fall back to sleep immediately after, to continue this dream that showed me something I’ve wanted for over a year: to finally meet the girl I love. But I didn’t allow myself, even though I may have been able to pick up where the dream had left off. I needed to write this dream down on this blog, I didn’t want to fully forget what happened. My hands made contact with her as she fell, but I woke up before I could discover if I caught her in time. Basic knowledge of human movement suggests I didn’t and she landed on her ass, but I confidently say we would have laughed about it in the dream, I probably would have collapsed into her with tears from laughter, and happiness, and just held her as we sobbed (and laughed).

After forcing myself to turn on my 2007 Macbook, my heart was heavy with sadness. I wonder if I destroyed any chance of actually meeting this amazing person, all because I can’t handle being friends at this moment in time. I want to meet her, and one of my goals this year is to do just that… but how? I cut off ties, smashing her poor heart in the process, I’m sure. I didn’t even wait for her response to the message I stated earlier. I couldn’t. I knew if I waited for her reply, I would reply to her, and I would be back to struggling to not talk to her every waking second. I love talking to her, it was so fluent and true. Easily my favorite thing (outside of writing and performing music). I still, and possibly always will, believe she is “the one.” But she doesn’t believe I am for her, so there isn’t anything I can do- though I did try. I tried, I tried, I tried.

In the end, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. It was too painful. My mind was consumed with how sad I was knowing she was falling in love with someone else. I tried to break the human mold, the one that says exes can’t be friends after a break up. I wanted to forgive and forget about her hurting me, I wanted to feel better about it all, I wanted to have her in my daily life again. But I couldn’t. I can’t. It is so painful that I am teary eyed, a lump in my throat, as  I type this. My goals for this coming week, or however long it takes, is to not cry over her. I am tired of crying. I am 24 years old and have cried too many times over a girl I have never met. There is nothing wrong with me, I assume. I am just in love with someone I got to know deeply, personally, and honestly. I took my time falling for her, and I have never loved anybody the way I love her.

I’m going to try to sleep again, snag an extra hour nap before I begin my day. Hopefully this time I dream about eating candy in the mountains with a mountain lion, or something like that. Anything that doesn’t break my heart.

This Small Bit of Hope

It was good to hear your voice

See your smile

It’s still my favourite, of course

I hope my voice wasn’t too hoarse

Your mahogany brown eyes, beautiful and wide

Prove to me that your day to day is more than just ‘alright’

I just wish that it were still me, the boy you call ‘baby’ so lovingly

But I had to let you go when he came into your mind


I have to suppress this small bit of hope

That you still love me

It’s enough to keep me afloat

As I’m swimming through this misery

But one day I’ll start to drown

Tired from weights, and waits, that hold me down

I just hope that you are there to grab my hand

Or at least comfort me as I pass


Keep in mind my heart was shattered

When you left me, then found a new guy unexpectedly

It messes with my head

My mind was already plagued

It hurts you gave up on us

But I think I understand…


I have to suppress this small bit of hope that I still carry

It’s better for us both, we were going crazy

O, I pray I pray I pray that you find a way to escape

That shitty city you venture every day


Go to Alaska… I hear it’s pretty great


I have to suppress this small bit of hope

That maybe I’m not wrong, and we are meant to be

Together throughout life, until then, just grow, just grow

I’m doing my best to never let you go


But I still have to suppress this small bit of hope.

A Good Day

Today I woke up exhausted, and slept in an extra hour. My dream during that hour was brief, but I enjoyed it. I was with a friend who offered to play a video game with me. It was a Pokemon fighting game, where we selected a monster (Pidgeotto for me) and battled it out in an arena as that monster. It was 3rd person, and the arena we fought in was a level in Borderlands, Earls Scrapyard. It was fun! I dominated him.

During the day I attended the Vegas Music Summit panels with my singer, I learned a lot from the speakers, each one impressing me with their knowledge. Then after we had pizza at Evel Pie.

We spoke to a man about music videos, and recording our coming show in Las Vegas. He eventually pushed us into describing our goals as a band, and is meeting with us this coming Sunday to not only discuss the music video ideas, but to also brainstorm 100 words that describe the band, narrowing it down to 5, hopefully branding ourselves as Stocksmile more than what we already have; to create an image beyond what we are neglecting to do. I was and am very excited about this! Following this meeting, we went and watched my friend perform in her band, Jesse Pino and the Vital Signs.

After getting home I video chatted with a girl from Wyoming. She is nice, someone I can be friends with. But that’s all. Just friends.

I have been pretty tired all day, so writing this post wasn’t something I wanted to do (I’d rather be sleeping) but I promised myself I would post once a day, so that is what I will do. Well, until I’m on the road, then I may not remain consistent, but I will certainly try! If anything, I will write daily and post them when I can. I have access to the app on my phone, but I shattered the screen today, so I will be using it a lot less. Don’t want my thumbs to get cut up.

I missed the Sun the least today out of every day since she left… I didn’t miss a beat in thinking about her, though. I want to talk to her… I just can’t. She hurt me. She doesn’t understand how I feel, or what she has done, but I just can’t. I am debating on if I want to send her postcards on the road… but I will discover that in time. I just hope she is okay. Happy. Working on her dreams proactively. This is what I want most for her, to live her dreams.

I Murdered My Father

Another strange dream last night, this one involving violence and murder.

I entered a house in dream through the back door, a house separate from other homes nearby. The white pickup truck with the faded blue stripe was parked behind the house in the driveway, the truck which has appeared in so many of my dreams this past year. My parents are there. I assume it is their house. Not my true life parents, just the ones in dream. These dream parents only resembled my birth parents in body size, not appearance.

My father in the dream was a scary, intimidating man. I felt fear with him nearby. I did something that annoyed him early on in the dream, and he took it out on my mother that night, silently and aggressively behind their closed bedroom door. I did not like this man.

I fought at him the next morning, weary of his abuse, swinging punches at his face and neck, never landing a hit that damaged him- all my movements were slow and ineffective. So I utilized my house keys as a weapon, placing the sharpest ones between my fingers in another clenched fist. Again, it was ineffective. He wasn’t having any of this and left out the front door, I assume to get drunk somewhere, so I locked him out, terrified of him getting back inside. He turned around once I locked the door and tried to get inside. As he tried to get in he kept telling me I “fucked up” and that he was “going to take it out on my mother, like usual”. He rounded the house to the back door, so I scrambled, locking the window next to it and not the door itself (which confused me as I did so). He only checked the window, to my relief, before circling the house to find another way inside. My mom became hysterical, and begged me to let him in because it would hurt less.

I wasn’t about to let anything happen to her at all.

I left the door to comfort her, but remembering I neglected to lock it I dashed madly back; he was already there! I bolted, pushing a beige couch out of my way and getting to the door in the nick of time. He was about to open the door, having unlocked the latch and deadbolt, but I relocked the deadbolt. He was visibly frustrated, unlocking the deadbolt as I locked the latch. Again, frustrated, he unlocked the latch as I locked the deadbolt, but I kept my hand on the key, in the lock position, using my weight and strength to keep it that way. This is where he outsmarted me. (I am now realizing the latch and deadbolt were two way locks, requiring a key on both sides to lock/unlock the door)

I’m unsure how he outsmarted me, or maybe he overpowered my attempt to keep the deadbolt locked, but he did, forcing himself inside. I fought at him with my fist full of keys, but it was yet again ineffective. He pushed past me, my mom hid in the kitchen. He went to her and stood there glaring at her menacingly, clearly scheming on how he was going to hurt my mom extra that night (for some reason a bedside lamp came into my mind). My mom sat at the kitchen table, her eyes puffy and red after crying, but her face and demeanor eerily calm, numb, as if she accepted her impending doom. Years of abuse caused this. My failed actions to keep my father away didn’t help either.

He told her to get up, to go to the bedroom, he would be there after “discussing” a few things with me. She walked past me then stopped, possibly feeling somewhat safe behind me, obviously afraid what would happen if she obliged to his demand. He angrily growled at her to keep moving, but I spoke up:

(paraphrasing) “No! I won’t let you hurt her anymore. I can’t let her hurt anymore. I have to kill you. I have to kill you. I have to kill you.” -a sort of panicked pep talk to myself. My keys became a boning knife, and I slashed at his neck several times. Each cut deeper, each slice I made with more confidence; 4 on the right side of his neck, 5 on the left, I kept missing his jugular. I was set to murder this man, to end his horrible existence. I wanted to kill him. I needed him to die. I needed my mom to be safe. Then I woke up.


I woke up after slicing his neck the 9th time, but I am confident he would have died in my dream if I had not. This nightmare shook me not because of the horridness of it, but because I know it somehow connects to my inner hatred for my real life father. I wouldn’t say I HATE him, but I am sure that currently dormant parts of me do. I just won’t ever accept it, because I do not want to hate anyone. Even him.


An Open Letter to my Brother


I am mentally unwell. My depression has spiked with the breakup from my recent love, my “goodbye, and good riddance” to our dad, and my exciting, yet terrifying decision to pursue my passion as a career. I am jobless. Moneyless. It has all become so much, each day I question if I am doing the correct things… I believe I am. I am just scared. And very homesick.

I wake up feeling sad, lost, despondent. These feelings wake me, often felt before I am conscious. They tend to last throughout the day, often driving me to message you for comfort. I worry I annoy you at times, but I know you love me. I know you care. And I know you understand. That is why I choose to come to you with my thoughts.

You are always there for me without fail.

I force myself to eat, choosing healthy things that require time to prepare over the simple, easy to microwave pizzas slowly disappearing from my freezer as my bandmate chooses them over eggs. I can go a whole day without realizing I haven’t eaten, so it has become part of my agenda: Wake up, attempt to suppress my dark thoughts, poop, dress, cook. It is good for me, and I usually feel better after eating. Physically.

I try to remain busy, I have lots of work to be done. But I am often distracted by my intrusive thoughts. Even when I leave to take a break, get outside, escape my bedroom, these thoughts tend to follow me. “Jump in front of that speeding car.” “Keep going, get lost, let your phone die, then die.” It breaks my heart. I do not want to die. I just want the pain to stop. I want a normal, healthy mindset.

Right now you are sending me photos, pictures of me and the family from when I was young, not even in high school. There are photos of you, your wife, your old blue heeler who ran away. You are young, thin, and as handsome as you are and have always been. There are photos of me smiling with braces, hair still on my head. Photos of the family, our brothers, our sister and her husband, my mom. I am heartbroken we are not as close with our brothers as we are to each other. But I love them, I know they love us, and I know they are living fulfilling, hopefully happy lives.

And there are photos of us with our dad. Dad. Wow. He was younger, stronger, and probably cared then. He took us fishing once, and we have photographic proof! I wish he wasn’t the way he is now. I wish he was healthy, strong minded, proactive and selfless. Caring, loving, nurturing, and gave a shit. Dad. I miss him, I wish he was worth keeping in my life. Our lives. But we don’t choose our father. I love him for giving me life, but other than that… there isn’t much to love without lying to myself first.

Brother, I miss my girl. She was perfect to me, amazing in every way. I hate that she has found happiness with someone else, because she was all I wanted, even more than my own music. I put my everything into making us work, trying so hard to keep her happy and motivated. But it wasn’t enough. I am trying to constantly remember that I am enough, though most of me feels I wasn’t. I am more than enough.

Brother, I miss you. Your gravely voice, your jokes, your laugh, your smile, your smell. Our talks, your rants, our adventures. We have the same love, heart, and drive for anything outdoors. I can say “Let’s walk over there!” and we will go. You can say “Let’s scale this mountain!” and we will go. I can always depend on you for an adventure, and a good day.

I love you, brother. I miss you.

I want you to know I am hopeful for my future. I look to you and find so much inspiration. You have the same struggles with depression as I do, yet you have worked through it diligently. You have a beautiful wife, incredible kids, and amazing skills that are providing you with a more steady and stable future. I am so proud of you, never lose your stride.

Thank you for loving me. Understanding me. Helping me through not only my personal issues, but my every tedious question about, well, everything. I am working on finding answers myself, but I know you will have the answers I cannot find. Do you know the meaning of life? Because I’d really like to know.

Again, I love you, brother. You are my hero.


Photograph year unknown. Taken by my brother.