(click the picture above for
the high definition
video - but also click
YouTube
for me!)
12:07 AM, Monday,
March 10th 2008:
It's something you
don't want to really admit, but I think we all feel
the same way: Some vices are just... well, cool.
Romantic. Our tragic heroes that gave their entire
lives to create amazing art through heroin addiction
and alcoholism on the brink of death... we somehow
value that. Oh we say it's tragic publically, but
Cobain is Cobain because of the beauty of his demons.
Makes no difference if Grohl is a better
writer/player/singer - unless he is battling demons
that make him bone skinny and never wash his hair -
he's still 2nd to Cobain. Well, he does have the
unwashed hair thing down.
The truth is, I
would rather not have any vice...but the fact
that my vice is overeating? Getting fat? Well that
sucks. Fat people are never cool. Ever. The Stones on
heroin, so fucked up before they go out on stage...
yet still kicking ass? That beats fat Elvis. So last
night I pretended I was cool...
I got
shit-faced, smoked a half a pack of
cigarettes and did my poor man's
Harry
Connick
Jr.
until the tape ran out. Now I can't inhale
for shit, I'd still rather have a diet
coke than just about any drink on the
planet but for one night I got to be
that artist. Watching the footage as the
nerd that I really am (I'll always be
Cameron) I'm envious. I think that guy on
camera is so much cooler than me.
He looks interesting. He has a story. He
is so shit-faced he can barely stay on the
chair...but he hits every note. There is a
part of me that wants to be that guy more
than anything in the world. But it is 100%
fantasy. Not one thing about it is true.
The truth isn't good in black and white.
The color is stark and
depressing:
-The next
morning the smell of smoke was so fucking rank - a
day's worth of an open door and fan, still changes
nothing. My clothes, my hair - even after 2
showers, my skin still stinks. Fucking
wretched.
-I can no
longer drink anything at night because it fucks up
my sleep. I'm never rested if I'm even a tiny bit
buzzed when I go to bed. I'm to the age where
one of the most important things is making sure I
get to bed at a good time so I can lessen the aches
and pains I feel every morning.
-I am sick of
my fucking hair. I'm holding onto it because
I want to do an Egos thingee sans wigs at the
end of this month, and then it's gone. I'm just not
that cool long-haired guy once my hair actually
gets that long.
-I don't
actually want to do anything in that video
other than I enjoy singing. I want to
eat 4 pizzas and record an album. That's who I
really am.
And I don't know
what it was last time when I lost the weight, but now?
I am completely out of touch with who
I see in the mirror. I literally feel like I'm on
a tightrope and that it is literally a matter of time
before I fall off and gain back 25 pounds. I can't
really keep this up for any length of time. It
isn't really me. It's like I have this really tight
restricting suit on that I'm waiting to take off and
just relax. It takes so, much, effort to eat healthy
and exercise for me. It takes an ungodly amount of
will-power and unfortunately - that's the only thing
that has ever worked for me. Concentrating every day,
every hour, every moment. They say it gets easier? Not
for me it doesn't. Doesn't matter that I worked
out every day for 65 straight days... It's like eating
a food that makes you sick, every day for 30 minutes.
It turns your stomach to think of it, but for some
reason it's good for you and nothing else will help
you - so you do it. That's what it is for me. It
simply goes against my genetic code. My mother and
father are not athletic. In fact I believe they
would giggle at the mention of that word as a
descriptor for them. It's funny, even at just under
160, my body still isn't skinny. Donna was
lookin' at me the other day and noticed that too - it
simply doesn't fit my frame.
But I've finally
found a name for my condition: Favreautis. You see Jon
Favreau lately? Back to Swingers buffness. He was
huge in PCU, skinny in Swingers, blew up
gradually until really just 2006 - and now back to
Swingers. I have no idea how to avoid that. None. And
no idea how it isn't extreme. When I'm on? I'm on. I
eat right, work out - I knock 'em dead. Off? Can't
string 2 workout days in a row to save my life. But
blah blah blah. The point of this is - it's not cool.
Being strung out and gaining 100 pounds isn't even
close. LOL. If you're gonna have a life threatening
vice (which believe me, food is) it would be nice if
you could at least be cool...
Then again -
I guess there's more motivation to kick the food
issue. Hmmm, that's one way to think of it. Harder to
tell Scott Weiland he needs to cool it when that
persona has almost singlehandedly made him famous.
I still argue that a true addiction to food, or a
real problem with over-eating is so much harder
since you have no choice but to eat daily. But hey,
I've never been addicted to heroin - so there you
go.
Christ is there a
better entry to worry a mother or what? Ha. So please
don't worry mom, I'm not a smoker, drinker or
drug-taker. I am a fat-boy that's playing
skinny-boy for a bit.
