I couldn’t have said it better…

Ahahaha!  You may have heard this philosophy before but not like this:

Final Revelation, by Bolt Thrower

Songwriters: Jo Bench, Gavin Ward, Karl Willietts, Martin Edward Kearns, Barry Thomson

Born to suffer, through a lifetime of darkness

Controlled by fear, held deep within your mind

As your mind reaches a distant point

Your soul beyond all pain

You shall realize all that has occurred

Were illusions formed from within your brain

You now know the truth, your mind is now set free

You have broken the chains that enslave all of humanity

Perceiving, life’s reality

An insight to man’s destiny

A coherent existence, comprehension you cannot deny

A meaningless persistence, confirmation you cannot defy

We follow without thinking, as our life passes us by

This newly acquired knowledge, clarified as we die

In this kingdom of the mindless

We are born to suffer

Be Good

A friend forwarded this magical video to me the other day.  So I took a break from my hardcore to have a listen.  It made me smile.  I’m not a jazz fan but this one nabs me with its simplicity.  It’s called “Be Good.”  I love the way Gregory Porter’s dressed.  This whole video — it’s so me! — as my friend pointed out.

Don’t bang it so hard

I shaved my head again.  But when listening to death metal sometimes, I think, gee, it’d be nice to have some damn hair.  I had head-banging hair a few years ago, albeit not the long, straight kind – I like saying ‘albeit’ — hehehe. The last time I went to a concert was in ’09.  I loved seeing head bangers whipping their hair around.  I got into it, and two days later – whip-lash.  I couldn’t believe it – such pain from that shit.

The cool thing about banging my head at the concert was that my hair was such that I didn’t need to keep fixing it.  It was relaxed and wavy.  There’s no affectation to banging my head because I’m possessed, I’m not doing it, the music is.

Sometimes when I’m playing chess or blogging on my computer and a song I love comes on that impels me to move around like a maniac, I have to make sure that I don’t hit my head on the edge of my desk.  It would be embarrassing to die this way or even to knock myself out.  I’m intense when I like a piece of music.  Don’t’ get me to standing up thrashing around.  It’s damn dangerous.

I’m cool with being near bald now though.  It works the same for head-banging only I don’t get hair in the eyes, nose or mouth.  While it’s sexy to have hair doing it, I never want to become a cliché.  When I went to the Obituary concert, I refused to wear all black and black eye-liner, etc.  My friend didn’t either, thank goodness.  I do like dressing that way once in a while, but subtly.  I was death metal even before I knew what it was, so I don’t have to try.  I’m born this way.  It was inevitable that I would gravitate to it.  This cute guy I knew called me ‘Rock ‘n Roll’.  I’ve also been called Tasmanian devil and a human doing (as opposed to being).  So you can see why this kind of music would appeal to me – it’s compatible to my inner-vibration and to my tendency to muse delicately on death and all of its aspects and manifestations – what the fuck did I just say?!

I realize after all these years that I should probably not try too hard to do anything because I tend to have too much concentrated energy, which causes imbalance.  If I tried to be rock ‘n roll it might not work.  Rock ‘n roll, hard rock and heavy metal led me to hardcore, and I’m still in allegiance to it.

So what I want to do generally is ride the wave.  But sometimes old habits emerge and I thrash at the waves, pulling myself under, as the common metaphor goes.  Here’s another one:  As long as I don’t bang my head too hard I won’t get whip-lash.