by nick splendorr
January 25, 2021

"Optimistically denying"

I can't wait to be able to sing along at the top of my lungs again. I hope I can sing at my new place without driving my neighbors insane

January 22, 2021

"Someone else's days"

So lovely. This album captures a truly special creative moment.

January 22, 2021

"Things I Have Loved, I'm Allowed"

January 22, 2021

Scribbled and Erased II

Turns out I made a post with this song last February. Another loop around.

Well, here's the song anyway.

and the next one:

Ernie's been with me this year. Today I looked at what will probably be my apartment a month from now. I've only lived in a place by myself, that I picked and cared about, for about 6 months of my adult life. I was 19, and had a very strange half year living by myself in a little square house on the outskirts of Milledgeville, Georgia. A lovely little place. I push-mowed the lawn, trimmed the hedges, met the neighbors. Made dinner, did homework, wrote music. Didn't have internet except what I could skim from my neighbor from one spot on the stairs. Had a dream about a web site called "I Love Sitting on Chairs dot com," told my friend Erik about it, and at his behest I made it, using CSS for all the styling, thereby stumbling one step farther down that rabbit hole. I lived around the corner from the first group of friends who'd live in the same big old house; stupidly in love with half a dozen women who probably loved me back but I couldn't move so they didn't either; and so, so pent up and hurt and wishing I felt like I had any sense of what to do with myself. Ignoring the mirrors; terrorized by a vision of a witch tearing back the sunny shower curtain and stabbing me through the heart with long fingernails; playing Earthbound on a 14-inch purple CRT sitting on a floor cushion. I had sex for the first time; she missed her period immediately, despite there being no way; turned out she just had such low body fat that she stopped menstruating, but that was two weeks of misery that stretched into a year of confusion and then another 4 years of happy cohabitation. Receding into myself, getting darker and weirder and howling out songs in the middle of the night. Still, wanting to be happy. Feeling the deep breaths of contentment between tight-lung grips of despair.

So now, technically able to afford it, I'm going to rent my own apartment. A lovely, spacious place. I feel excited to "be an adult" again, and terrified of failure, of not being able to keep up the charade of productivity. Resentful that I still can't invite friends over to see it. Feeling like the total reset of my life that began a year ago is entering a new phase.

I'll take a picture with Ernie when it's real.

January 19, 2021

"untethered, I will soar"

Five Iron Frenzy has a new album out, and it's full of antifascist anthems. It's great. It's also got me listening to their back catalog, including this song that comes to mind often when I need to rev myself up for something.

Five Iron's a funny band. They're a "Christian band," often writing overtly about or to god. I was still a christian in my interior when I learned about them, so they're one of like three bands still grandparented in to my despicably-godless present taste. }:) I don't have time to go into it, but the thing I want to say is: more than maybe any other band, they've managed to achieve feelings in some of their songs that approach whatever the material sensation of the "sacred" might be. Their songs can still lift my heart in a specific way; a feeling of aspiration, of there being something special about being alive, and that it's nice to remember.

Some of their songs are just silly. Some of them are solid rock songs. The singer's voice is one of my favorites. They've always opposed the abuse of power ("Riot Gear") and conservative interpretations of christian doctrine (too many songs to list). For their new album to consist almost entirely of songs clearly and directly criticizing the modern right wing in all its guises... I'm grateful for it. I hope there are christians listening.

And today, as I discuss moving into my own apartment for the first time in years, I feel the terror of instability yawn beneath me. Can I really maintain a life of day-to-day productivity? Well, I've been doing it for quite a while now; I reckon I'll just have to keep doing it. And as overwrought as it is, as far away as I feel from this sentiment, this is how I want to feel:

"Hulking, smashing, I come crashing, nothing like when I was small. That feeble coward that you knew has undergone an overhaul. I am unstoppable. I am the cannonball."

January 13, 2021

"people to be"

January 13, 2021

"I'll think it through, what you wish for"

I do wish that most of my favorite songs weren't about regret and loss,



January 12, 2021

"What you were before doesn't have to be you anymore"

"Never define yourself by choices others make.
If no one said it yet, it would be a shame. That ends right now.
You're not alone in pain.
Never alone in pain."

They're playing this whole album on a ticketed livestream this Friday. I think it's gonna be good!

January 11, 2021

"just a wrong kind of love expression"

Succession is incredible. Clearly made by people with deep, personal experience of abuse. And no patience for the pathways of excess. One of the few current shows I've truly enjoyed.

"Ken, he loves the broken you. That's what he loves."

I remember my mom explaining to a very young me that my dad yelled at me because he loved me. That they hit me because they loved me. This scene drilled directly into a sparking nerve. Shitty people will make you go a long way to defend them because you're afraid of what will happen if you don't.

My parents only loved the broken me. To appease them, to earn their love, I broke and stayed broken for many years. I've had to do so, so much to recover myself, and I'm nowhere near healed. I still live every day remembering what it was like to not be broken in these particular ways.

It's of the utmost importance that you believe yourself about yourself, with all the work that entails. I think to myself a lot lately, "I don't even know who I am." I walk around doing the things I've learned to do, can enjoy myself in honest-feeling ways, but when I look for my identity... it isn't there. Like I'm in orbit around myself, describing the terrain from outside the atmosphere. I used to know what it was like to be me, to want the things I wanted, to feel strongly that certain things mattered to me. I'm mostly not sure about any of those things now. And it takes a lot of patience and pain to try to reconnect the sparking nerves, on top of everything else.

Let's try our best to only have right kind of love expressions.

January 10, 2021

"the colors and the callous"

honestly if I could choose my singing voice, I might choose Petal's. her powerful harmonies sound so good