Sailing Through

Imagine, a year

amschrader — Mon, 16 May 2011 04:47:31 +0000

It’s not all that hard to believe that a year has passed since I last wrote anything here. What is a year really, it’s amazing to think both how much and how very little has changed. for instance today last year I did exactly what I did today. I baked bagels in the same apartment while cursing my downstairs neighbors for throwing such a rambunctious party at 11Am on a sunday. But of course that is not all I did today, nor all I did last year, but it’s amazing that we fall into such patterns, grooves if you will. It’s almost depressing to think so little changed, but really, what are the odds that today last year would be so similar. tomorrow for instance will be nothing like tomorrow of last year. Last year I would have woken up at 4am and caught a train back to my house, now, I live here.

What does it really mean to live anywhere? If it that all my belongings live here? is it that this is where I come to sleep every night? For now, the answer is yes to both, but in reality home is so much more. I’ve spent the past few years struggling to figure out how to make a home of my current setting. It’s no easy feat, sure you can put your posters up on the wall and stock all your favorite things in the fridge, but there is something else, something indescribable that makes home, home. My beef was that I split my life between two houses, here for 3 days there for 4, here for 2, and so on. It’s a hard way to spend four years. Now that I’ve had almost a full year in one place, I’m not so sure I was missing out on all that much. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, the freedom was kind of liberating. Or perhaps I am just homesick for the train. Despite all of my non-homesick homesick feelings, I am quite settled here. I bought a sewing machine, and am diligent about doing my laundry.

It’s a challenging mindset to be in though. Part of you still longs for the childhood home you can never return to, the endless advice and protection, but on the other hand by all measures of the world you are an adult now. But what does it really mean? that you pay your own taxes, and insurance, and buy your own milk. Sure, maybe, but I an’t help but feeling like this whole generation is at a loss. For years we have been denied the responsibility we yearned for at 16, but all that waiting made us complacent. Now that the responsibility has arrived, and we have fulfilled it, there is very little satisfaction. At the end of the day you know that you did what needed to be done, but there is very little search for deeper meaning.

Should there be deeper meaning? Are there questions that need answering? answers that need questioning? Or shall I just resign myself to baking my bread and showing up to work monday through friday.

Back to my original thought. A year: a lot can change and stay the same. So much has changed in my past year, yet sometimes I feel as though I am exactly where I was twelve months ago. How do you measure time once the ordinary markers and achievements have disappeared? What does a year mean to you?

New Music Faux Pas

amschrader — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 06:45:18 +0000

So every now and then I stumble across an album that is just amazing. For the next week I listen to nothing else, tell everyone how cool I think it is, only to discover the next week that I really just don’t like it all that much. Then there is the lingering guilt of so shamelessly promoting such a mediocre musical offering. Ah yes, the guilt. Then a few weeks go by and I don’t even remember the album ever being anything more than something I accidentally downloaded.

Is it just me or have there been more false alarms lately? I feel like I keep finding these gems, sometimes gems produced by beloved bands, only to be disappointed the morning after. Is there just not as much quality music coming out, or have I become lazy in my search for it?

Caterpillars of the Community

amschrader — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 05:44:31 +0000

There was a time once, where we refused to recognize our innocence as we chugged fourties on top of your roof, lying on your backs, listening to casiotone for the painfully alone. We thought we were so alone, so isolated, so different. We thought we were rebels, the original hipsters. We knew we were geeks, but we thought we ruled the school, while humming belle and sebastian under our breath. Oh little ones rejoice, your time will come. It was never supposed to end, but we drifted apart, all of use, fragmented across the coast, the country for real. And in small doses we come together again, like the collective that has lost it’s leader. may I hold your hand?

Somewhere in the eye of your brain, you see this too. hold me tight I might explode into a million pieces, might explode, might explode. oh littles ones how could it have composted?

I’ll Keep Going If It Takes All Night

amschrader — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 10:21:55 +0000

I’ve caved, I’ve denied myself this pleasure for far too long. So look out world, I’m back to tell you the story of my life. Yes there will be 100% more me here, I can’t promise anything, but it will me good.