SHAME

For the first time in a long time I feel no shame. I am proud of every step I tread. I try and read every chance I get. I love the fact that my relationship with my sister and family is the best it's ever been. My bones are uneasy, I feel the excitement building. My fingers want to play the songs they wrote about a girl they loved. They love. It is my belief that love comes and goes, but really it is always there. I believe it just changes. It will change from one kind of love to another. Sometimes it never changes, and you'd be willing to give up everything for that love. Nothing can come close to the feeling you get just thinking about it. I still say my mother will be the only woman that will NEVER fall out of love with me. Music is the love I will never stray from. When I meet a woman that understands that, well, that will be a good start for me. I still love this love I sing about, but alas, I have no time to love this love closely. I can only admire with unprecedented rapture the beauty she resonates. For now, I'm sure that is enough. At least until another boy has the guts to tell her the things I dare not. I've got miles, and miles, and miles in front of me. I hope everyone I sing to gets a small portrait of this love I picture day in and day out. I hope that when I'm done you can see the paint I've left on each road. Splattered from road to road, until one day, you could see her face from the sky. Only then could someone truly understand what I see. I can assure, no one sees what I see. That, in my belief, is love.

As for what I've learned this week. Volcanoes are extraordinary. However, to the early Christian world, Volcanoes were considered to be evil. The complete incarnation of evil actually. This was derived from the early teachings of Christians that Hell was located somewhere in the center of the earth. Volcanoes were considered gateways to these infernal regions. What's amazing is that these beliefs were held steadfast well on into the nineteenth century. In Dante's Divina Commedia hell is described as a vast crater, and in the center of this crater sat Lucifer. They used to say that the sounds in an eruption were actually the moans of lost souls being tortured in eternal damnation.  In 1653 there was a report from french traveler Martiniere. In this report he claimed that the howling and wailing along the coast of Iceland were the cries of the damned whom the devil had condemned to a frozen prison around the island. He did this so they wouldn't grow accustom the everyday fires of hell. However it was just the rumblings of Mount Hekla. Interesting : )

No More Sally.

I've been thinking, over thinking. I need to get closer to myself. I need to re-trace the steps of my youth. I started as of today, January 26th, at 10:35 PM that I will be. I dare not add an adjective. I will just be. I've been so petty as of late. Wishing for things not in my control. I am studying one again, with a steadfast conviction. I wish to be the wealth of knowledge I used to be. I wish to know the things I used to know so well. I wish for things I have no need to wish for, because they are things completely in my control. I wish to be the brother I once was. I wish to be the son I once was. The friend I see myself becoming in so many of my day dreams. No more heartache, no more regret, no more loneliness, no more Sally. Just music, memories, History, Physics, Chemistry, Mathematics, Art, Spanish, French, Literature, Biology, Geology, Theology and the all the things I never studied. All the subjects I failed. I will once a week, post what I've learned on here. Whether they be useless facts or equations, or nothings. However, I hope at times the words I write can be the most interesting thing you may have found.

My name is Adam Patino Rivera, I am 24 years old. I was born October 5th 1987 in Midland, Texas. I don't know what time I was born, or what room, or what floor. What I do know is that my mother was in labor with me for exactly 15 minutes before I took my first breaths. I know my parents loved me the moment they saw me. I know that I've loved them before I ever knew I could. From a cellular level, I know my gratitude for them knows no bounds. I wish I knew more about them. When they met, what she was wearing, what he smelled like. I wish I knew the words they shared their first night together. I wish I knew all the names my Dad could have had, all the times my mother got in trouble and was chided by my grandmother. I wish I was there the first time they said "I love you". I often ponder what love has in store for me. I often think it will never find me again. What I do know is that I've felt it at least once. I know that I liked to have thought I've felt it about a hundred times more. I know that I've come close many times, maybe even touched it, but it slipped from me, in the guise of an 18 year old, in the whims of a brunette, or in the travels of a girl who will soon be a woman.

I am a walking contradiction. I hope, with every fiber of my being, that I find love, or it finds me. I'm not desperate for it. I am patient. My patience stems from my disbelief of it. There are times I don't believe in it's existence; but that disbelief stems from my strong conviction that it is out there. I see husband and wife leave each other an think "love is a fallacy" but then I observe my own existence and think. "I am the culmination of love" If there was ever love, it knew my parents, and it knew them at least 4 times. I one day hope it knows me. At least 6 times. Perhaps that is too much this day and age, but for now I think it is a good start.

"What if"

I like to think in another time and place things could have been mine.
I like to think there was something so grand.
I like to think I was more than my wants, then my petty pleas.
I like to think she was in love with me.
I like to think there will be more than just memories.
I like to think I had avid eyes and timid lips.
I like to think the sun always broke winters grip.
I like to think there was no absolute.
I like to think I spoke the truth.
I like to think your words had no end.
I like to think my colors never had to blend.
I like to think I was never beneath your waves.
I like to think.. I'm glad she never fell in love with me.

You would be astounded at the things you can ponder, when you're still and focus on the contents of your mind. Sometimes you find that your head and heart do not know their place. They venture off as children often do; dashing your heel on a spoke, cracking your lips on ice, burning your hand on the sun, or leaving you alone with the thought of love. You swear it would only take 5 secs of incredible bravery or enormous stupidity, to put it on the line and wait for the nighttime. To make your lips grace a mystery. The fallacy of romance is the stumbling block of the meek and lowly in heart. I tell myself "I'm glad things worked out the way they did" then I think what if. I have so many questions I'll never have answered.  The one thing I know, I swear I know; is that this album will answer a few of them. I hope this collection of music reaches you as it reached me. I hope it makes you think "what if".

This will be the life of me...

"This should be the start of many things. This should be your breath next to me. This should be the end of a chapter, and the start of another. This will be life of me..."

I can't help but imagine she dreams of living near the ocean. I'm sure that's what it is, dreams of life, or something like it. I'm sure there is something there,at least there was something there. I'm sure now that it is gone.

I often misplace my thoughts, I know this. I ramble. This being a perfect example of the latter of my flaws. I stutter when I am nervous. I scratch or rub the posterior region of my head when I am uncomfortable. To many peoples surprise, this happens anytime I am speaking in public. Alas, here I am, a singer. Could I be any more masochistic?   That would be if I had been removed from myself, and not doing it to myself. I wonder what that would be called? In the end I believe I justify this stupidity by simple balance. My love for music and the search for expressionism out-weighs my fear of speaking in public. 

I'm sure at this point my entry makes absolutely no sense. The point is, it is not supposed to. This is me, writing down my thoughts as they occur. For the first time I am trying not to be infringed by filters, or do's, or don'ts. I am uninhibited. I believe it is somewhat serendipitous how I have come to this point in my life. Moving to Wichita, going to school, meeting Lauren, playing music, learning love. Meeting Sally. Green sweaters always seemed to remind me of a walking tree.Tragic, as my mother would describe it. However, never have I ever desired more to be in the shade of a tree. No matter how brief. No matter how sincere. Just to be in that shade. The tree was, at the time, a stranger. Now, a friend is what I see. I'm sure I will always see more. I try not to think of the "You need me, less than I need you" phrase, but that is what comes to mind. I'm sure we have all faced that at one point in our lives.Unrequited love. To those who haven't, I am actually sorry. It is such a pleasure to feel something so grand, even if it is unanswered. The capacity of the heart is truly astounding.

The truth is, this IS the start of a new chapter. However, the book has changed. I am no longer reading, I am writing. So many things changed on the shores of Mexico for me. My lips have not graced another pair since my departure. Both from US soil and my last relationship. For the first time, I wish to be alone. Not in a sad, "pity me" fashion; but as an opportunity to rediscover the parts of me I used to cherish. To truly learn from my mistakes. Like every time I should have taken shade, every time I should have said... something.

On a similar side of brightness, I know what I will be naming this chapter...

"The life of me"

Truth From My Lungs

I've had the strangest night. It is snowing where I am. At the moment it would seem I haven't felt like this since my last night in Cabo. I remember the sea roaring, a storm was coming in, from what people told me that day. I had the privilege of watching the moon take it's place among the stars. I watched it rise from the ocean to the center sky. I observed it change colors; from red, to orange, and then to yellow. I can't remember ever in my life being that close to heaven. I remember thinking I would never again feel this, I would never again capture a moment like this. Alas, December 24th, 2:30 AM, I found myself staring at a similar scene.

I opened the door to my best friends house, the cold was instant. It froze me up, but that isn't what stalled me. The ground, the rooftops, the sidewalk, and pavement were painted white. Snow fell all around and suddenly the cold fled from my bones. I've been listening to a song I recently received from Matt Alsanian, our producer. In my last entry I spoke of the song, "When You're Not Around"; well I had this song in my ears as I left my friends house. I stepped along the sidewalk, and then across the pavement, towards my car. Something made me stop and look back. I could see my foot prints in the snow. They left a perfect impression of what was on my mind. I gazed at the scene before me and couldn't help but sense the irony in me singing "give me the street signs, give me the hours as I retrace the steps that I have devoured." At that moment I took a deep breath, but I did not exhale for fear I'd lose the moment; and in that moment I stooped down and traced a heptagon in the street, and thought about the people in my life. The people that keep me seeing my breath in the atmosphere. In that moment I felt complete again. Over the last year I struggled with being an honest man in the most dishonest time of life. I thought of all the things I've spoken, and pondered if my words were a farce. The truth is, these songs, this album, is the only honest thing I've done in my whole life. From "The Hour Is Late" to "10 Years". Every word I've sung has been a little part of me. The only parts of me I've cared to keep.

In the end, I am thankful for my friends, family, and for those who inspire truth from my lungs.

When You're Not Around

What can I say? I wish I could say everything about this song, but I can't. So for now I'll just say that this song captures a different part of me, and my music. It reminds me of "The Hour Is Late" Even though this song doesn't rock, it is my belief that it will be many peoples favorite. It tugs at my heart when I hear it. I can't wait for everyone to hear this song and take a little piece of me away with them. I want to change someones life. That's always been my goal. In the end what I'm happy about is the song's shortcomings. I got away with writing a beautiful song, but somehow in all it's beauty and effort. It still fell short of measuring up to the person it is about. "There is still this sound when you're not around" and you're never around enough.

Moving On

have not been able to keep my mind from racing. It seems I have someone on my mind. I really need to change this because it's getting me nowhere. I've been trying to focus on my music, but that just seems to make me think of the thing I'm trying to block out. On the bright side of things, my bands CD is about to be released and after that I think I'll be too busy to even think about it. Okay, so I believe I will quit being lazy and start putting up those videos of the songs on the album! Acoustic versions of all! maybe one  a week or 2. I haven't decided. I'll let you guys know. As for my situation, I'm gonna move on from it. After all I said I wanted to be alone. That's what I'm going to be anyway. Especially with the amount of traveling I'm going to embark on this upcoming year. 2012 will be the biggest year of my life! Ready... Set... LIVE!