Stephan Reed — The American Nightmare

Another amazing bgsu blog

Posts Tagged Escape The Fate

The Future as a Homemade Bomb

Dec 10

Posted by Stephan Reed in Personal | No Comments

"Sometimes I question why I am still here. Sometimes I think I am going crazy."

The cold creeps through my window while two of my best friends have a conversation about the future behind me. It gets me thinking…where am I going to be?

Second guessing myself has always been a weakness of mine, but it’s truly shown it’s ugly face recently. I star worrying about my career to the point in which I begin to shake and quiver. Usually, I shake it off and move on with my thoughts, but I don’t think that’s how I should go about this.

One of my friends has had far better internships than I and she’s uncertain about her future. If she’s not comfortable, why should I be?

To Hell with it; should  I be comfortable?

I live my life in a constant state of organized chaos. I thrive on situations that seem ridiculous and dangerous to others, but  I know that I can fix and control at any time.

I like spontaneity. Surprises keep me from going insane. However, if I don’t have something to look forward to, I begin to lose the light of excitement for the future. That’s why I always make plans. That’s why I am never alone.

Taking a step back,  I see that I have something grand ahead of me. I know the motivation is there. But will the stars align properly for this wanderer? Will I be guided to do what will be best for me?

The fact that my future isn’t carved in stone keeps me guessing and guessing keeps the rust from forming. The gears are turning because of anxiety.

It’s a double-edged sword.

Growing up, “living in the ‘now'” was engrained in my head. There is no past. There is no future. There is just…now.

So, should I worry? Should I dwell? Absolutely not.

I try to exist on a day-to-day basis, but occupational and academic issues take precedent and that notion is thrown out the window. The rear-view mirror holds the past that I spent worrying and pressured, while the road ahead contains two options: worry and have it done efficiently or breathe and hope for the best.

At this point, the latter is sounding more appealing.

I hate freaking out. I hate worrying. I Love responsibility, but only when I am certain that  I can achieve what is being asked of me.

It’s the instances in which I am asked to the unexpected that truly get to me. “I’m only human.”

So, where do I stand? I don’t know.

Future-oriented: worried about exams, anxious about my job tomorrow, thinking that I won’t get enough sleep tonight.

Dwelling on the past: I didn’t try hard enough, I let go of opportunities to make this easier.

Now: I am sitting. Letting out my feelings in the form of keystrokes. And it feels good.

I guess, what I’m getting at, is that I need to find a balance between comfort and adventure. I shouldn’t let my future be laid out for me; what’s the fun in that? However, I shouldn’t just let it all go without some sort of preparation.

We need to spend more time just existing. Mindless existing. Too many times we are pressured by outside circumstances and bullshit that we cannot control. I have months ahead before any of these crazy decisions must be made.

Why freak out now?

I’m confident. Be confident. There’s nothing wrong with that. Hone in on your skills. Be proud of what you are, but try and get better. Get better. Don’t lose what you have already had.

My apologies to whoever may be reading this. I’m completely insane. I have two exams tomorrow, one in eight hours. And you know what?

I don’t give a damn.

 

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The Beta-Alpha Male

Dec 4

Posted by Stephan Reed in Personal | No Comments

"We're young and in love, heart attacks waiting to happen. So come a little closer, tell me it's all in our heads."

I’m sitting here, the glow of my computer lighting up my room. I know I should go to bed because I feel some sort of sickness coming on, but screw it, sleep is for the weak.

I Love the winter months. I feel that I was most self-aware during this season in past years. I can clearly remember the coldness of the Sandusky air numbing my cheeks as I played guitar to an empty audience in my grandmother’s garage. My fingers were numb. It literally hurt to play, but dammit, the show inside my head had to go on.

The weird thing is that there are people out there who know how I feel. My friend Will was programming and recording music while I was, yet we were an hour apart. (He was Beta before it was even called that. I have a serious appreciation for those who get the most out of the Internet and have that presence.) I don’t think I’ve ever met a person in my life that shared my exact feelings about music. There’s more to it than money. It’s about the memories that are made both while listening to it and while making it. The organic writing process is something to die for. The hour-long jams where you completely lose yourself on the fretboard…I miss that.

I miss the way I was. I was so sentimental before. I felt more original and less of a phony. (Insert Holden Caufield reference here.) I used to write my feelings out. The late-night phone conversations are missing in my life. I need to get to know someone new. I miss the thrill of getting to know and understand the depths of a person. There’s a few people out there I’d Love to talk to, but I’m too scared to actually initiate anything.

Yeah. Me. Scared to talk to someone.

I miss staying up all night on the phone or having the vibrations of a new text wake me up in random intervals. “No, you’re not keeping me up :)”

Right now, Taking Back Sunday, Hawthorne Heights and Escape the Fate are making me incredibly nostalgic. I remember the first time I heard them before I knew who they were. It was in the winter of the past years mentioned previously.

I remember heartbreak vividly. I remember tears freezing in my eyes. (“How does it feel when tears freeze when you cry.” Literally came on as I finished typing this.)

I wonder if there are anymore bleeding hearts out there. Was that just a phase in my life? Was my sentimentality something I need to outgrow?

God, I hope not. That lifestyle was so satisfying.

There has to be someone out there whose bedroom is being lit up by their computer screen who’s just dying to tell their story to someone new. If this person is you, talk to me. I’m a good listener.

Getting to know someone new is what I live for. If I had it my way, I would travel the country, sharing the drinking traditions of each person or group I came in contact with, all the while talking about the crazy shit we’ve been through, the stuff we’ve seen … the people who have gotten away.

If you’re looking for a friend, I’m here.

Whoever you are.

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