Two Dreams, One Post

Another strange dream two nights ago. I was riding in a car on the prairies, a friend that I didn’t recognize other than their presence was driving. I was sick in my dream, as I am now. We were heading to a school. The point was to see the Sun (go figure). I was nervous, but feigned confidence as usual. After driving a few hundred feet my friend stopped the car due to the crowds of people he didn’t want to run over (ya know, like a normal person).

I got out of the car and began to run. I needed to find the Sun, even though I couldn’t breathe, I was sick, and figured she wouldn’t want to see me. I found her, she was with her 2 best friends. I approached her, hugging her and picking her up into the air. I set her down, told her how much I missed her, and she responded, “You have boogers in your nose.”

I said “Okay” and walked away feeling embarrassed. I walked about a half mile to where my friend parked his car, he informed me there was a bathroom nearby and walked with me to it. The bathroom was down a flight of stairs, about 50 steps total, into a dark New York subway like underground area. It was creepy down there, but I needed to blow my nose, get rid of the boogers.

In the bathroom the lights flickered, it was dark and empty, but I wasn’t afraid, though I knew I should have been. I went pee, blew my nose, washed my hands and face, then walked back up the steps.

I found the Sun in the middle of a field. She turned towards me and smiled. She approached me. I kissed her. Then she pulled me to the ground, where the dream turned sexual based off her control.

I will spare the brief details of the encounter, but I woke up feeling sad. All I wanted to do was meet her, the Sun, in real life. I never expected to fall in love, I never expected anything more than the hug she promised and hopefully a good time together. I think I scared her off by pressing meeting… oh well. We may never meet in real life. This breaks my heart more than most things I’ve experienced… but maybe one day we will. I hope so. She was one of my best friends.

Last night’s dream was mostly forgotten, but it was Christmas time. I was shopping with my mom, she asked what I was getting someone (special, I assume) as a gift. I said I didn’t know, but spotted a beautiful hand carved cabin (about the size of half a loaf of bread). I instantly knew it was perfect. I walked away from my mom and towards a conglomeration of tall, skinny “treehouse” like buildings. In the middle of these buildings a few people were playing Quidditch, but there were rope swings involved. The former girlfriend of two friends I had (she broke up with one for the other in high school, it was a mess) was playing. I assume the captain of the opposing team. She was there, and told me I was gonna lose because who I was looking for didn’t want to see me. I accepted her challenge, and set the tiny cabin in my pocket. I took off, and scored several points, making this girl eat her words.

“HA,” I exclaimed. “That was fun!”

After landing in one of the tree houses, I climbed down through the interior and handed the now boxed and wrapped cabin gift to the Sun. Her face wasn’t visible, but I recognized her figure and hair. I woke up immediately after.

Photo by Paul Hill 2017


Bike Crash!

Sometime in 2015 my brother invited me to bike around Salt Lake City with his friends. Salt Lake has rental bikes for use scattered throughout the city. They are green, and can only be used, or unlocked, by paying a machine. I genuinely support this idea.

I was tired and didn’t want to go, but my brother insisted, so I went. We met up with his friends, my brother rented me a bike. We rode around the city, smoking herbs and goofing off. I had fun, despite wanting to sleep. It was good for me to get out.

We raced a few miles north towards the State Capitol building. Along the way we came across a multilevel parking garage. So what do a bunch of explorers do? Walk to the top! The view was good, I’ve always liked the ‘higher up’ perspective (hence why I’m always climbing buildings). We took photos, smoked more, and plotted our race down the garage to the street level; I was gonna win!

My brother and I lined up, planning the exit/ entrance to be the finish line. We took off, speeding down the ramps! Neck and neck we talked shit, our laughter echoing off the concrete walls. We rounded 1 corner, 2 corners. Turning the final corner, the finish line in sight, I pedaled full speed. I guided myself straight, but my brother kept turning-

“What are you doing?!” I yelled. *CRASH!!*

His handlebars smashed into my left hand, the force of his body nearly knocking me over. I was pissed, the adrenaline I’m so familiar with rushed through my body. I silently biked out the front door, my brother shouting words I do not remember. We stood outside, waited for his friends to finish their race down the garage. My head was focused on the collision. I was upset, pumped, and exhausted. After assessing myself, I discovered my hand wasn’t broken, just bruised and bloody (I wasn’t worried, I know what a broken bone feels like). A few moments of light anger later, we biked on. My brother was also upset. We weren’t mad at each other, just in general. Colliding was painful and obviously unexpected.

We made it about 3 blocks before I shouted to “stop!”, and as my fading focus threatened to knock me unconscious, I dropped off my bike, tactfully collapsing onto the damp grass nearby. I couldn’t move for a few minutes, I had to let this black out spell pass. My brother apologized again, and I told him it was fine. Two of his friends were ahead of us and rode on, but one stayed back and took photos, along with my brother.

After about 15 minutes recovery time, we rode on. I wasn’t in much condition to bike, but I did regardless. Capitol Hill was only 2 short miles away. I didn’t want to ruin my brothers night out, plus I wanted to have fun. We stopped briefly at another Green Bike station so my brother could swap his bike for a different one (the crank powered light had broken in the accident). I rode lazily behind them, quietly. A car drove past us, the windows were down and someone yelled “Nice bike, faggots!” Which I shook my head to.

The final half mile is uphill, hence the name ‘Capitol Hill’. We made it to the top, snapped a few photos, explored the grounds. There is an entrance going to a park a few hundred feet down the hill with steep stairs and many switchbacks. We didn’t go down it, fortunately, though I would have regardless. We decided to walk down it another day, not wanting to ditch the heavy rental bikes.

After half an hour or so of enjoying capitol hill, my brother suggested we head back to his car. Biking down the hill was fun. We took a different route, one less steep than the straight shoot down on State Street (say that 5 times fast). It was fun! We bid farewell to my brothers friend at the bottom. With only a two miles left after some biking, my brother and I returned our bikes to a station and walked. We talked about life, our dad, death, music, his passions, my passions, Jackson Browne, and the bike crash. He was sorry, and I was too (for being upset at him). I enjoy conversations with my brother. There is no judgement, there is no worry of saying something ‘wrong’. The last two miles were my favorite of the night.

He drove me home. We hugged and said goodnight. I went to bed after cleaning my hand. I slept well that night. I’m glad I decided to go instead of sleeping. Sleeping is a waste of time. 😉

I Wish…

Another girl smiles at me. I smile back, though I’m disinterested.
Last night a girl kept looking at me, hovering around me. I said “hi!” and she blushed.
*sigh* She is cute, but I’m not going to waste her time.
I have dreams involving former girlfriends, former crushes, but in them my personal feelings are nothing more than their friend- if that.
Each dream involves you, each time you are there you avoid me… you ignore me… you tell me something that makes me self conscious…. and then in the last minute of my dream, you are there. You are attentive. I am happy. For 1 minute, until I wake up missing you.
It has been months since you decided to focus your time somewhere else, on someone else. We haven’t spoken in weeks. Why can’t I get over you? I feel crazy.
I wish I could be ‘normal’. Flirt with girls, have 1 night stands… but I can’t. That is now how I am. It is not how I love. I love you, and until I am over who you are, over the reasons I so boldly claim I’m “in love” with you…. well, I will have to keep myself distracted. Keep my mind from wandering into the “what could have been,” “if I had done this differently,” and my personal favorite “if I just visited you sooner.”
I wish I could have… I wish, I wish, I wish. Why am I so into you? Why are you so different? Why do YOU stand out to me? I could give a million, plus a million, plus a million reasons why… but what it comes down to: you couldn’t love me the way I wanted you to.
I wish you didn’t have access to this blog… I wish you wouldn’t read my heartbreak stories, my nightmares involving you, the poems I write as therapy. I wish you hadn’t told me your address is changing… Where are you going? Alaska? Brandon? Wherever you are going, I wasn’t going to send the letters. You never seemed to want them anyways.
Right now I am in a coffee shop. The lump in my throat threatens to activate my tear ducts, but I will continue to maintain composure. My thoughts are slowly processing you less, and my day to day more. California is beautiful, I keep seeing wonderful and beautiful things I wish I could share with you… but I can’t.
I don’t know why I am so into you still… I don’t know why I’m this way. I wish I could just forget about you like you seem to have me… to forget about the good… the chemistry… the feelings… the everything. I don’t wish to forget you, but forgetting you is going to happen eventually… just like forgetting me will happen to you. Except for you it is easier, you have someone new. Someone worth forgetting me.

Maybe I shouldn’t publish this.

Maybe I should pretend I’m happy, healthy, and excited about life.

But my joy seems to have disappeared. I am trying to find it again….

Stocksmile, The Sun, Family

Stocksmile started tour 2 days ago, beginning with Che Cafe in San Diego, California. The next night (last night) was Redwood Bar in Los Angeles, the same state. I have been sick since the morning after our kickoff show on February 15th in Las Vegas at The Griffin. It started out as a basic sore throat, but gradually became worse. Last night I felt the need to visit a doctor, but I decided to sleep on it. I’m glad I did, because it turned out to be a bad cold. Which, today, I am already feeling better knowing this.

I can’t help but shake this feeling that I need to write the Sun, so I did. I have a letter to her, one sparing my feelings and sticking to the basics: where my life is currently at. I love her, I miss her, but I needed to let her go. She found someone much more suited to what she needs, and I understand now; I am not who she is looking for. This is okay. I feel better having accepted this. But damn, I do miss her.

It was strange, and heartbreaking, to not speak to her the day I left on tour. She was in my life since before the band even needed me. She was my “pen pal” at the time, but when I had my doubts about auditioning, her words stood out to me more than anybody else I spoke to about it. Paraphrasing, of course, since it was over a year and a half ago, “You need to do this! It’s your dream! I don’t know much about you, but I know that this is what you want, what you are on this Earth for. Go audition!” I wish I could remember her words exactly, as I’m sure my paraphrasing is nothing in comparison to the real expression. Her words are the ones that kept my head above the waters of depression and self doubt. I owe her a lot.

A large part of me wonders if I made the right decision on continuing with this band. I feel that I did, but I also know that I sacrificed a lot to be here. I sacrificed a potentially good job, the love of my life, and a lot of other things I don’t want to think about. But I am a musician, it is how I have always been. I need to be here, even if this band fails. I will always pursue music, in one way or another. But I do want to be in love. I knew from a very young age that I probably can’t have both…

Yesterday was good, though! I wandered alone to Ocean Beach Pier, where I found a location called Dog Beach. There were lots of dogs! Later I met one of my best friends and his girlfriend at St. Clemente Beach, where we ran into the ocean. It was his first time being in the ocean, and I’m glad I was with him!! It was an honor, really. I probably shouldn’t have gotten in with only underwear while sick, but oh well! It was fun.


Today I miss my mom. I miss being a teenager. A child. I miss not worrying about the rest of my life, so I am doing what I can each day to progress and make certain I have value in the music industry. I’m going to make sure the bands stage volumes are on point. Last night we played a quiet set, but I could tell it was a lot less sloppy than our live performances. We have great gear, but are currently lazy in making it sound phenomenal. I will be certain to correct this.

I also miss my brother. I miss his smell, his voice, his embrace. I wish to hike with him, journey into the mountains, and escape the depression that he and I share.

But today, I am in Corona, California. Hundreds of miles away from my brother, my mom, anybody. So I will continue to slowly eat this apple, drink this water, and make sure I express my love to the golden retriever in this house that has taken a liking to me. She is sweet, and loves to cuddle. I, also, love to cuddle.

Catching up to Speed and Dreaming Dreams

I’m finding myself unmotivated today. I began eating junk food, and more food in general lately.  I crave a bag of chips, but I know better. I need to exercise, having strep throat has really set me back. I smoked the last 3 days, pot. I smoked to help against strep, which it did. But I become so lazy and lethargic. I am content to do nothing, and while I am sick, I still find myself abhorrently lazy. I know depression has it’s hold, but I can fight through it. Maybe I need to nap while listening to music.

Either way, this illness has me dumbed down. I am getting lost in daydreams. Maybe I should accept them and just sleep. So far I think I need to sleep.

To catch you up to speed, Stocksmile’s kickoff show was on Wednesday. It was good. I look forward to perfecting our performance and sound. People enjoyed our set, I feel as if they left impressed.

Jim Stone interviewed us, I don’t know if I like my answers to his questions, but I gotta accept them for what they were. The Ampeg 8×10 Sabe ordered for me came. Awesome guy to help me and the band out like that.

I think I will now sleep. Dream dreams of pretty things. Recover.

Heart Attack Grill

It’s 9:50 and I’m in the van because I’m sick. Bob is at the bar with our friend, 2 or 3 more may be showing up, but I probably won’t see them.

I have been depressed and emotionally numb all day, pushing off thoughts about someone I miss on top of having a sore throat. I want to go hiking, but I can’t. I want to play a show, but we don’t start full force until Sunday. I want to sleep, but sean took the bench. So I am sitting in the van, using free wifi fortunately in range, bored.

We ate at Heart Attack Grill, and it made me not feel well. I will surely have to stick to a fixed health food diet for a while. I prefer how I feel and look doing so anyways.

I am very excited for tour! I love performing, plus I will be writing my own stuff more often explore my creativity. This year will be Stocksmile’s best yet, with only more progression to be made in the coming years as well. I plan on discovering a unique way to up our stage presence, as well as my own. Something to give the audience more to remember us by. I also need to work on my social media skills, as well as continue learning to edit photos and videos better. I will begin recording my tour adventures soon. I’ve already began the tour journal.

I never know how to close my blogs, so today I will end it with this. Goodnight.


I Kiss to Let Go

She falls in love with words I’ve already said
But to her they are new, because they’re from him
And he posts pictures of all his instruments
I know she loves this

I wake up alone, as I always do
Except I feel alone, because I miss her
She wakes up, hopefully happy, to texts from him
“My life is better with you in it”

“Awwwwwwe, babe!” she’ll probably reply
Full of excitement for her new guy
And for her I’m excited, I hope she’s correct
When she tells herself “This feels right”

“I felt right about you” I wish I could say
“But look what happened. You walked away”
But she will contest “I’ve alway felt this way,
I told you we can’t be anything in the first days”

Yeah, yeah. I know, I know
But she felt right, too, at one point
“Oh well” I tell myself every day
But, honestly, the pain isn’t fading

It’s masked. I wear a stock smile.
I live harder than before, which means trying new things
Socializing more, kissing Canadians
But I want to kiss her. Just her. So I kiss them to let go.

Fuck Racism.

Tonight I dealt with racism. Legitimate racism. And I was not open minded to the other persons thoughts whatsoever.

You see, my brothers are Filipino, making them ‘brown skinned,’ which calling them that is entirely bullshit. I witnessed them deal with racism growing up, violently even. I saw one of my brothers get into a physical altercation because of it. I don’t understand, and have never understood, why hating someone because of their ethnicity is a thing. I tried for a brief moment to understand, but simply put: I could not.

I argued with this person. Eventually becoming frustrated with their biased and closed minded beliefs that I could not be in their presence. A new friend, Tom, explained that there are always people like them to exist, and those that remained in conversation are strong enough to listen, and study, this persons beliefs. I could not. I cried in front of them.

I cannot open my mind enough to hear them out, to try and understand why they loathe people based off the color of their skin, the origin of their background. I cannot.

I cried, several tears, because of this. Sobbing, bawling, whatever you wish to call it; I could not hold back my heartbreak and sorrow because of this person.

I love my brothers VERY much. I grew up with them. Was raised by them. Have learned the essentials in becoming a ‘man’ by them. So to deal with someone whom would have distain towards them, because of the color of their skin, is a task alone. One I did not have the patience for.

I am going to sleep, try to recover emotionally from the energy depleted by dealing with this person. I do not hate them, I just wish they weren’t set in their wretched ways.


I was going to hike last night. Escape my pressing depression, the kind that eventually won. My mistake was my craving for sushi, and buying 6 shots of whiskey afterward (the cute bartender filled the glass to the top, hooking it up big time).

My band wanted to get sushi and I joined them. I bought a women’s wide brimmed hat at the nearby Target. Possibly a mistake, but I look good in it. Then I gorged on sushi, eating everything my stomach could handle since I purchased the all-you-can-eat special. I also bought Paul’s meal, which he is paying me back for. We drank sake, laughed, had a good time.

After out meal, I was dropped off at Don’t Tell Mama, a piano bar in downtown Las Vegas. I didn’t wear my new hat because the French Canadian girl was going to be there, and my hat is basically hers (she let me wear her hat the other night, where I fell in love with the look). I was shy. I didn’t say hi to them other than a wave hello. I was quiet. I bought whiskey in order to limber myself up, and it worked, but I drank too much. I did what I could to overcome my thoughts over thought, to prevent the depression I was feeling from becoming too much. But after walking to another bar, where the French Canadians went to, I was consumed. I tried talking to her, but she seemed disinterested. I am probably over thinking this. Before we left after less than 5 minutes of being there, my new friend suggested I ask her to hike, or better yet, to go to 7 Magic Mountains, and I asked her. “Do you want to hike with us this Friday?”

She said no, but she would think about it. She isn’t much of a hiker. For some reason I took this as rejection, even though it clearly isn’t. My depression then consumed me. I became sullen and somber, just wanting to hike. I should have hiked and denied the desire for sushi… but SUSHI! Oh well. I am feeling much better this morning. Getting my dark thoughts out on here last night helped, and I looked at my ex girlfriends blog. They are primarily posts about me and my blocking her on social media, as well as not giving her the chance to say goodbye, and her feelings that she made a mistake.

I want to talk to the F/C tonight. I will be sure I do, though after our drunken make out, things are weird. It effects me, because I actually want to get to know this person. But, I am leaving on the 19th. She lives in another country. I will be back on tour, doing what I am most passionate about: playing music live every night. I will keep in touch with them, the French Canadians, hopefully they make it to our Montreal show in May! Going to try and get one of their favorite local bands (probably their friends) on the show, that way they are more inclined to attend. Plus the band (Dangereens) are pretty rad. They sent me a home recorded demo after I asked where I can hear their music. They are releasing a single this month, according to their Facebook posts, and I am excited to listen to the studio mixes!

Today my band plays out first show in months, months that brought me mostly mental and emotional agony. I can’t wait to release those emotions through energetic performance, in front of the F/C’s, my new friends, my current Las Vegas friends, and the crowd of people that are sure to be there. It will be a good night. Jim Stone will be recording it. I am very excited. I look forward to feeling whole again.

I want to die.

I will be honest. I want to kill myself. I want to die.
I also want to go hiking, get lost, and learn to survive on my own.
I want to no longer exist where feelings, relationships, friendship, “responsibility” exist.
I want to be free from all of it. I want to exist alone. Outside of my over thinking, my depression, my fear of getting close to anyone- friendship or relationship.

I want to die. How pathetic. A few weeks ago I was excited because I DIDN’T want to die. But now…. I want to die.

I want to die.

Why? I am not entirely sure. Because I can’t help but fall for anyone who kisses me? Because I meet entirely cool and genuine people, and avoid feelings towards them like the plague?

I only consider 5 people in my life as a friend: My band, and my high school friend, and my “main bitch” who has been my longest friend.

I know I am more than my depression. More than my 3rd person view of myself. But some nights…. some nights I want to hike to a cliff, run, and plunge calmly to my death; head first. That is how I’ve always properly imagined my death. A death of my own choice. A death I had control of. A death in a beautiful place in which I find comfort. I want death.

Now, I know I also want life. But I do not believe I will find love. I do not believe I will find God. I do not believe I will ever be rid of my paranoid thoughts, nor be rid of my depression. And right now, I am fighting walking the few short miles to the nearest mountains, where I would lie down in the cold and try to sleep. Sleep away from the people. Away from the noise. Away from the ‘normalities’ that I have to conform to.

I just want to exist happily. I want the Sun. I want to hike with my brother forever.

I once said “Heaven is sitting in a car with my brother,” but that is incorrect. Heaven is hiking with my brother forever. I miss my brother. Tonight I could use a hug from him. He is one of the few people who truly understands me. He goes through the same struggles with depression, self doubt, self loathing that I do.

Tonight I want to be with him. Hiking. Talking. Laughing. Venting. Complaining. Crying. Anything. I just want to be with my brother. He is the only human being I know of that I feel happy around, even when I was in my most miserable state.

I want to die.

I want to die.

I want to die.

Why haven’t I died already? I’ve had enough opportunity.

My car crash when I was 6 years old. My bike accident where I crash landed on my head. Swallowing a concoction of several poisons; weed killer, bug spray, wasp killer, rubbing alcohol, gasoline, and several other chemicals I don’t remember the names of- nor do I care. My stepmom flooding my trailer with propane. When I tried to hang myself, my last attempt on my life many years ago. Tonight? I want to die. Why haven’t I died already?

I get that I am alive for a reason. I have “purpose” my mom claims. But tonight, I don’t see that. I am a lousy musician, I am a subpar human. I am a below average friend. Tonight I want to die.

Tonight I want to die.

I am crying. Not “ugly” not “pretty.” Just crying. Tears flooding my eyes, a few drops escaping my eyelashes. I want to sob. I want to bawl. I want to wail until I have nothing left in me but exhaustion, thus compelling me to sleep. And if I sleep, I will assuredly have nightmares. I will wake up to police sirens. I will make a breakfast of a 2 egg sandwich, either wheat bread or an everything bagel. Then I will force myself to rehearse, or adventure, or anything. Anything to keep my mind off stupid Canadian girls that kiss me when we’re drunk. Anything to keep my mind off girls that I could actually be into, but won’t allow myself because I am leaving in a few short days. Anything to keep me from slipping into the existential dread that threatens to consume my mind every day.

I am so tired of existing.

I spoke recently to a woman who believes there is existence after death. I don’t know if I believe this. I don’t know if there is life after death. I don’t know if there is a “God,” and if there is, I don’t think god is who the religion I grew up in suggests.

I want to know. I want to die. When I die, I will know. Or I will stop existing, which to me, is the closest thing to making sense, and my biggest fear (even though tonight I want death). But something inside me suggests I am wrong to believe that fully. One friend believes our energy is transferred elsewhere, claiming his son is the spirit his long deceased father.

I believe him because he believes it. Just like I believe my mom because she believes in god. Just like I believe my friend when she says her dead family visits her when she asks, because she believes it.

What do I believe? Why am I here? Why do I exist?

I had given most of who I am to make a relationship survive. I was not enough.

I made out with a girl when drunk, now things are weird between us.

I over think the talent of myself.

I just want to be happy all the time. I want to be happy. Why am I not happy?

Maybe I focus too much on “what possibly” rather than “this actually.”

Maybe I should end my life, end my misery and pain. Then MAYBE I would be ‘happy’.

Right now I am not happy.

Right now I want to die.