Trying to set up this MIDI keyboard yet through Logic it does not show up and technically cannot control the mixer and I haven’t troubleshooted because I have little patience for this kind of technical garbage that bogs me down with senseless tutorial downloads and wasted fucking space. I bought these things in order to make music. To take control of the capabilities of electronic music, record singles with Brian, record my own solo acoustic stuff under this selfsame moniker, Dwellings, and to generally succeed in a higher artistic fulfillment in life and yet I am stuck in the mud. Running in place, the jargon of eons, of unlimited spaces where melodies should be. The magic of future music and the current frustration of this hellish, brackish, painful terror of a learning curve. Now I will add this to my sorry attempt to become a writer, a sorry attempt to become a citizen of Seattle, a neighborly friend with art parties where everyone brings paint and we lay out newspaper, and the band idea is lost because I become lost in the jargon of basic home recording technology. The words and jargon irritate me to no end. Nothing poetic about transmuting signal flows through DAW mixing boards. I didn’t even just say anything. Additionally, I return to school on Monday. French, Shakespeare, and Poetry. My family is on edge for my education because they need me adamant and excited or they won’t pay. I wasn’t excited because I was hungover or sad or deflated. I got a speeding ticket in a bodunk town because I was looking at a river and foggy mountains and not the speed limit signs and my utilities bill is late. My mind is full of anxious swarming thoughts but I have a light-filled class schedule, I just need to get my sorry ass to the gym and clear my head with bikes and weights and measures and music and fuck all if anyone is judgmental for my bad technique. I liked making home recordings better when I just placed lines on a grid. Or when I recorded drum solos with one microphone under a couch cushion and added extremely distorted, pitch bended bass over the top… and passwords reset themselves. The whole world of annoying small details crushed around me like a tightening scarf, a strangling belt buckle, and I must overwhelm the odds and kill these distractions and succeed without making a drunk mess of it all.