Author: Rob Says

A man who loves and likes women.

Digital Dark Gods and Babylon

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Babylon A.D.

Just got back today to the city of sin.
They say the apple and the snake is how it all began…

And now I’m back, in Babylon…

Those are lyrics from the song, “Back in Babylon” from the band, Babylon A.D. Check them out sometime if and when you get a chance, you won’t regret it.

I was going to write this post over a year ago, but other projects, people, things, situations, and life itself got in the way. Lots and Lots of distractions and things to do.

Today is September 14th as I am writing this. This post will be published on Wednesday the 16th, that’s when you, Gentle Reader, will be seeing it for the first time. Thursday September 17th will mark the second year anniversary of my Mother’s death.

Two years already. Two years.

In some ways, it feels almost like she died yesterday. In some ways it feels like she died a long, long time ago. I can still see her face in my mind’s eye without having to look at pictures and I can still hear her voice if I so call on it.

If and when the day comes that I can no longer recall her voice, I have a couple of voice mails that she left me several months before she died. I can always listen to those if and when I want to. Right now, almost two years later, I’m still good not listening to them.

I haven’t been to her grave in almost two years either. I was there the day we put her in the ground, but I haven’t been back. Part of me thinks I’m avoiding it. But why? All that is there is a headstone and grass. Underneath that is her casket and inside is her body. Her “soul” isn’t there. Her “essence” isn’t there. If I want to “feel her presence” so to speak, all I need to do is go and visit my Dad. Bits and pieces of what she did in life are still in that house. There are some toiletries and whatnot that she purchased that are still there. Hell, some of her personal belongings are still there. None of that stuff is at her grave.

So I don’t go. And honestly, I don’t know if I ever will go except for when my Dad dies. His plot was purchased years and years ago, and it resides right next to hers. That may be the next time that I see her grave. And after that? Like the wind, I’ll be gone. Gone from Utah. Gone from the life that I have known and into a new life somewhere else. Somewhere warmer than here. I’m tired of the snow and I’m tired of the cold. A warmer climate where I can ride my motorcycle year round would be ideal. But not so hot that I’m cooking at night. Probably Texas.

I’m not running from my life and I know that wherever I go, there I am. You can’t run from yourself. Wherever you run to, you’ll still have to deal with you because there you are. I knew a few guys when I was much younger who ran from things in their home and their lives, and yet they could never run far enough or fast enough from themselves. Nowhere was good enough because there they were. Some of them kept running and are still running to this day as far as I know.

That’s not me. I’m not running from anything. I’m good with my life and my life choices. I’m good with staying here in Utah for the time being, I’m in no hurry to leave. At the same time, once my Dad dies, there’s nothing keeping me here. I’m not close to any of my extended family. I can always transfer my job from here to wherever I want to go for the most part, and if I can’t transfer, I can always find another job.

As far as women are concerned, if I have someone serious in my life at that time, she’ll either come along for the ride, or she won’t. If she does, great! If not, that’s too bad, but I’ll find another one, or several other ones, wherever I end up.

Let’s move along.

I mentioned that I’m taking up music again. I’m excited for this. I’m excited that I’ll be creating things that I haven’t created in a long time. I’m nervous at the same time. I don’t know how to explain it, but there it is. I’m nervous too. I’m sure it’s my inner perfectionist yapping about being perfect and being able to just “master this shit” right off the bat. That’s not how it works though. Just like writing or making videos, or standing in front of an audience, I don’t think you ever truly “master” it. You might become so good at it and so comfortable with it that other people will call you a “master,” but in your own head, it’s never quite there. You’re always striving to achieve more and to “do better” than the last article, the last video, or the last performance that you gave.

Since I’m taking up music again, something has got to give. I don’t have enough time in the day to do everything that I’m doing. So what is going to get the axe?

Not dating. I like women too much. Not motorcycle riding. I like that too much too, plus it’s therapeutic in ways that non-motorcycle people will never know. Not shooting guns. Got to keep my skills up for the upcoming apocalypse. Not doing my videos or liveststreams. Those are too much fun too. I still need to work and I need to eat and sleep. I’m barely getting enough sleep as it is, so I’m not giving up more of that. And I’m definitely not giving up writing. It’s another creative outlet for me to focus and channel some of my energy to. This blog isn’t done until I say it is done, and I’m not done here by a long shot. I’m going to keep it “non-fiction” as it were, and I’ll focus my fictional creativity over at Punchriot. You should go there and subscribe if you want to see my fiction as well as many other amazing writers. The only thing that I hope when it comes to my fiction is that I don’t disappoint my editor, Nick August, and that I don’t disappoint the people who read my work.

So I’m not going to give up all those things. What am I going to give up then?

Twitter.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still keep my account active and up, but I’m going to limit my presence there. Twitter has become too much of a waste of time for me. A couple of interactions recently showed me this. I’ll still be there to use that platform to promote this blog, my YouTube channel, my audio channel, and I’ll still be there to interact with people in my DM’s, but other than that, I’m going to limit my time and interactions there severely. I want to have time to focus on my music and video creations. I don’t need to be spending my time on Twitter arguing with idiots.

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I Was Born In The Wrong Decade

Rob Says6 Comments

 

amplifier analogue audio board

1987. That was the year that I first started learning how to play guitar. I remember borrowing my uncle’s cheap acoustic that would never stay in tune for long, because it had a warped neck. I graduated from that to my first electric guitar about a year later. I can’t even remember the name of that guitar now.

It was some sort of Fender knock off though and between the guitar, the amplifier, the handful of guitar picks, the case, and the cord from guitar to amp, I think I spent somewhere in the neighborhood of $250 to $300 dollars total. It wasn’t a great sounding guitar, but compared to the crappy acoustic that I had been playing for the last year, it was a dream.

Fast-forward to 1989. My father had heard me playing this knock-off guitar and he knew that I wanted something “bigger and better.” I was listening to a ton of heavy metal because that was the music that I grew up with and that was what was popular at the time. Guys like Blackie Lawless from Wasp, Paul Stanley from Kiss, and of course, Metallica, were the guys that I idolized. I wanted something like what they played. I had my sights fixed on a B.C. Rich Warlock. Not one of the knock-off ones either, but an actual genuine B.C. Rich.

1989 was that year. My father took me to a local music shop and he bought me that B.C. Rich Warlock, and a Peavey amplifier to go with it.

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My Guitar

It played like a dream and it sounded so much better than that cheap Fender knock-off. Now I could really play music, now I could really get the sound that I was looking for.

Why did I play music? Because I loved and still love music. And to get the girls of course. Chicks dig musicians and music.

Back in the late 80’s and early to mid-90’s, when it came to recording music, everything was analog, which meant you recorded everything on tape. Whether reel-to-reel, or on a cassette tape, everything was done physically. I always wanted to get a track recorder, a 4-track specifically, and convert one of the rooms in my parent’s house into a studio. Making minimum wage back then, at $3.35 an hour made a $400 dollar 4-track recorder pretty much prohibitive. Never mind a mixing board and/or a larger track recorder.

The track recorder was a dream and life went on. College came and went and the guitar ended up in storage. Dreams and priorities change as life goes on.

2020. I haven’t picked up that B.C. Rich guitar in many years, and I honestly don’t know if I’m going to pick it up again or not. But I still desire to make music, it still runs in my veins. Nowadays you can buy a drum machine MIDI controller for $150 dollars. Ask me how I know. You can also purchase software that is literally a complete studio, that you can run on your laptop for $60 bucks. Again, ask me how I know.

What would have cost me thousands of dollars and dedicated an entire room of my house now costs about $250 after tax. I’m blown away. If only I had this technology when I was 18 and had a band. I could have made an album or two or ten.

But I still can.

While I may have “been born in the wrong decade,” I realize that I really haven’t. Now is the time. I may have a learning curve to go through again, it may take me some time, but I am going to create music once again. I’m going to make songs, whether short, sweet, and silly, or some sort of deep, dark, epic poetry of sound. I’m going to create music once again. I have to. I don’t have a choice in this matter, not really. I’ll drive myself insane if I don’t do this.

Now it’s not so much about getting chicks as it is about the creation of the music itself. As I’ve said in the past, and to anyone that cares to listen to me in person, my whole life is a soundtrack. Whatever events happen, there’s a song or two to accompany it. More often than not, those songs are songs that someone else created. Every now and then though, it’s a song that has never seen the light of day. Every now and then it’s a song that resides only in my head and it is screaming to be let out into the world.

It’s time to do that. Who knows? Maybe there’s an album or two or ten in there somewhere.

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Asceticism

Rob Says1 Comment

2020-09-05 (2)

The definition of asceticism according to Webster:

Definition of asceticism

1: the practice of strict self-denial as a measure of personal and especially spiritual discipline : the condition, practice, or mode of life of an ascetic : rigorous abstention from self-indulgence
//Sacrifice, renunciation, asceticism, fasting, returning again to God … : these are inclinations fueled as much by instinct as by religious idealism.— Joyce Carol Oates

 

A lot of guys are making the argument for asceticism recently. Whether it be “abstaining” from sex and/or masturbation, abstaining from alcohol and/or drugs, abstaining from different types of foods, or a myriad of other off-the-wall ideas, the concept of not doing is becoming popular again.

I’m not going to take issue with anyone if you are choosing to not drink or drug. Maybe you’ve gone that route and found out how easy it was for you to get hooked on a substance or two. Maybe the substance became too much for you and it became self-destructive, I don’t know.

Trying to toot your own horn and making it a lifestyle is a bit much to me though. “Look at me! I’m not having sex! I’m not drinking! I’m not eating (insert whatever it is here.) To me it looks like a participation trophy. “I get an award for not beating off.”

You want to not jerk off? That’s fine by me, go and not jerk off. You don’t need to announce it to the world. Whoopity-do.

The problem for me, besides the whole participation trophy thing, is the fact that almost inevitably, the religious card shows up in the program.

“I don’t jerk off anymore and I can show you how you too can give up touching your penis. Here’s my course and my book, sign up now! Oh, and did you know about our Lord and Savior (insert religious figure here)?”

I find asceticism to be absurd honestly. Life is short and there is so much to see, to do, and to experience, and you’ll never get to or through it all by the time you die. I can’t understand why you would willingly choose to abstain from all of what life has to offer.

Before someone brings it up in the comments, yes, I’m aware that not all people who abstain are doing it out of choice. Some people aren’t doing this voluntarily (incel). You know what though? If you put in the work, it won’t be involuntary anymore.

I think that choosing asceticism is coming from a lack of experience with life, but that’s just my take.

Throughout my life I’ve learned a lot of things about myself and about women in particular. Here are some of the things, both good and bad that I have learned:

Women are okay with one-night stands, sometimes it’s all they want.

Women are open about their sexuality as long as you don’t judge them for it.

Women don’t care about your “notch count” nearly as much as you care about theirs.

Women in general want a man with experience, they don’t want to train you. You either get it, or you don’t. Guys who don’t get it don’t get another shot.

Younger women like older men. This one may seem like a “duh” thing, but it was one that I had to experience first-hand to truly comprehend it and appreciate it. Guys have been so thoroughly conditioned and brain-washed to believe that you should stick to your own age group that the thought of being with someone who is much younger than you isn’t even a consideration.

I’ve learned that love doesn’t pay the bills. I’ve been with a couple of women that thought that loving me and having sex with me was enough. It’s not. What else are you bringing to the table besides sex and love? Can you contribute something more tangible or not?

Women will usually go along with whatever you want to do. Keep or make it fun and entertaining and the sky is the limit. This is one that I’m still learning about. I have yet to find something where the women in my life have had a hard “no” to, unless it is maybe something that is completely criminal. Even then… I’m still pushing that boundary to see where that one ends.

I’ve learned that being the “side guy” is oftentimes better than being the “main guy.” Love it or hate it, I’ve been the side guy who enjoyed the benefits of that relationship without the bullshit that the main guy gets to deal with. I’ve also learned that women can be incredibly brutal towards their main guy. The things I’ve heard women say about their main guy is sometimes astonishing.

You can date a woman, be totally honest with her about the relationship not working out for you, end that relationship, and still be friends with benefits for years afterwards. If and when that particular set up no longer works for her, she will end it, usually without a lot of drama or fanfare.

She usually wants sex harder and rougher than you could imagine. Don’t worry, you won’t “break” her. She’s tougher and more resilient than you know. If you get too rough somehow, she’ll let you know.

The more experience you get, the more you realize that “all women are really like that.” That’s not a negative or a bad thing, it just is. It has actually given me a better understanding of myself and what I like and want, and it has given me a better understanding of the women that show up in my life, and the things that they want and desire. It’s definitely made it easier to communicate those things as well.

For me, choosing or following a path of asceticism or abstinence is following a path of either naivety or willful ignorance. Life is far too beautiful, too lush, too brilliant, and too robust to choose not to know.

To me, asceticism is choosing to suffer. We all suffer to one degree or another. Life is like that, it’s just that way. To choose suffering over pleasure is the ultimate form of masochism to me and I honestly have a hard time wrapping my head around that one, because here’s a “truth” for you:

No one gives a shit about your struggles except you. No one cares about your suffering except you.

So why struggle and suffer unnecessarily and for no reason other than to say that you struggle and suffer? Nobody gives a shit, and you won’t be a martyr for it. You’ll be forgotten an hour after your funeral because life goes on. Might as well enjoy your life and experience as much of it as possible.

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