The Shape Of Things To Come
“Change is the constant, the signal for rebirth, the egg of the phoenix.” -Christina Baldwin
I have literally hundreds of submissions sitting in my inbox, it’s ridiculous. For months and months I would try and email everyone back, thanking them for emailing in, and regrettably offering that submissions weren’t a thing Since She Left did. Then it dawned on me, Tell The Story. For almost an entire year, this blog was so “Me”-centric, and at times, justifiably so. But over time it became more and more obvious to me that it wasn’t about me, it was about what all of you readers got from this blog.
And I still have all of these submissions. Emails, Ask questions, even IM’s. I’m in a place now where I don’t want to be in the position to overshare in this space any longer, because for the most part, my story is told. But you all have stories. I want this to be interactive. I want this to really connect people. I want to use this to give you a voice.
So that’s what we’re—you and I are going to do. There will also be editorial pieces here and there, written by people you’ve heard of and some people that you maybe haven’t. I’m very excited for this, and I hope you are too. So for now, I prefer to take the backseat, as a curator, a gardener an editor. So have at it you guys. The email is the same as it always was.
IN REGARDS TO SINCE SHE LEFT
Noticing how some people are throwing fits over the departure of Rebecca Rae from the site Since She Left, attacking Mike Waskom, and generally overreacting, I thought I’d share my thoughts. Especially since I consider Mike a friend, and I think I know why he did what he did.
Number one: Something everyone should first consider, the site is called Since She Left, not Since You Left, which is what you might think it’d be called had Mike and Rebecca Rae founded it together. Mike created it. Mike cultivated it. Rebecca Rae found his work so appealing, so inspiring, that she asked to be a part of it. Mike was gracious enough to let her be… for a while. For anyone to now call Mike a bad writer, or say Rebecca Rae’s posts were the only redeeming part, is disingenuous.
Number two: It looks like Mike is taking Since She Left in a new direction. Notice now how even his name is absent from the site. Considering he just moved to New York, has two jobs, and may be trying to write for publications (online or otherwise) that pay him, he probably doesn’t have much time to dedicate to Since She Left. (It should be noted: Rebecca Rae wasn’t contributing much more than a sporadic paragraph or two shortly before her departure, either.) Here’s what I think:
Mike is going to make Since She Left more submission based. I determined this after I saw “Submit” is now one of four remaining links on the left-hand column of the site. This is great because it means you, the reader, get to contribute your own tales of heartbreak for all to read, thus becoming an integral part of the Since She Left experience yourself. For the people, by the people. We all associated with the emotions and experiences Mike and Rebecca Rae wrote about; perhaps soon we’ll have the opportunity to share our own (with quite a large following, I might add).
It’s very easy to lash out without knowing all the facts, to name-call, to “un-follow”, or dish dirt on your personal site instead of handling matters privately, but ultimately this is Mike’s baby. If I know anything about Mike, he’s got your best interests in mind. You, the person who has been reading his site all along. He appreciates your adoration and dedication. If my assumptions are correct, he wants to make you all a bigger part of it.
I say, give the guy time to take a deep breath, to gather his thoughts, and tell you what he has in store. More than likely, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.The Whiskey Monologues (who for the last time is not me) is exactly correct, and says everything I wanted to say about this topic. Additionally, I’ll point out that I offered Rebecca to continue to contribute via the /submit link, which she refused. We split the cost of the domain name, she didn’t pay for it. I also did not delete the posts she made, I simply made them private, so that I could email them to her at a later date, precisely because I’m not an inconsiderate prick. It’s interesting the vilification process that happens in a meme driven community. Notwithstanding, Rebecca Rae can be found here, as I’m sure she’ll continue to write and share her thoughts on the world. This site is going to change, and like in life, we can either change with it, or be left behind.
983 plays
Against Me! - We’re Breaking Up
“Everything ends badly, otherwise, it wouldn’t end.”
The Rules Of Attraction
On top of satisfaction. Yves Saint Lauren shades in the darkness.
High on life, in love with me, dancing in the night dancing through the days.
The Studio 54 Rules
+ Praise hedonism: A school of ethics which argues that pleasure is the only intrinsic good. In other words: A lifestyle that consists of partying, passing out, then partying, then passing out, then going to the next party and partying.
+ Always ask yourself what would jesus NOT do.
+ Be self-destructive.
+ Kill your parents.
+ Experiment with drugs. They are good for you.
+ Read books. Especially transgressive fiction.
+ Create something that will live forever.
+ Kill yourself by the age of 27. All cool people die at this age. Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrisson, Janis Joplin.
+ Always remember: You are not the clothes you wear. You are not your job. You are not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the car you drive. You are not the contents of your wallet. Repeat that every day like a mantra.
+ Always remember: The most important thing in life is DESIRE. You can achieve whatever you want. You just have to desire it.
This is something I support. Give this blog, and this girl, Kornelia attention, because they’re going to be hot.
You’re not always going to have the best circumstances available, but if you have a creative mind, and a willingness to make due with what you have almost anything this summer can be fun and bring you enjoyment.
(img via littlewhiskey)
2,998 plays
Death Cab For Cutie - Tiny Vessels
So when you ask “was something wrong?”
That i think “you’re damn right there is
but we can’t talk about it now.
No, we can’t talk about it now.”
Phantom Planet - California 2005
This 2005 re-recording of Phantom Planet’s “California” for the television program The O.C. has a special place in my heart, because, well—and I feel no shame in saying this—I love The O.C., and so should you. I’ll actually admit that this show was a milestone in my life in that I never watched the original run of the show, but only last year watched the entire series. This happened at the same time that I got involved with the woman who eventually inspired this blog. Since She Left’s first post was made September 13th, 2009 and yeah, I was watching Marissa Cooper shoot Trey. See how that works?
1,625 plays
My Chemical Romance - I’m Not Okay (I Promise)
Reaching way back into my emotional archive for this one. File under: Songs That Unashamedly Got Me Through A Lot.
Owen - Bed Abuse
I spend entire days in this bed too small for two
On these pillows that you can’t get used to
And that’s why I don’t sleep at night
And that’s why I don’t feel right in this city
It’s more me than you
People are watching you, get over that. The key here, guys, is to not give a shit. Do what you do, and live your life. I’ve come to realize that the older I get the less I’m embarrassed about the things I did, and the more I regret not doing things I know I should have done.
(img via)
I mean, yeah. One day you’ll swing by to take her out and she’ll answer the door with a literal, but more often than not, figurative hat on, that just looks ridiculous and you’ll stand there, at the door to her apartment as she walks outside, and you think to yourself, “What in the hell did I just get myself into?” Anyways, she’ll walk out and she’s all smiles and like asking if you want Thai or Mexican, but you’ve just now noticed the star on her head, and maybe by now you’re mouth breathing, staring at her. She looks you up and down and she smiles. Her hand moves and finds your hand and those fingers interlock with your fingers and she gives your hand that little half squeeze. It dawns on you that this is who she is. This is what you’ve signed up for, and dude, she’s rocking that look. She’s making it work. Would you love her if she was anyone else? Probably not, so just roll with it. Realize that you’ve never had it better than you do right now, that this is your la montagne sacrée, and it’s fucking rad.
The Traveling Wilburys - Congratulations
Bob Dylan’s vocals here, are perfect.
I’ve started sleeping more and more during the day, when it’s the hottest. I lay under the fans and just try to suffer as little as possible. I wake at dusk, and go to work, and meet people, have drinks, and experience the city with my friends. Though, one might wonder what I’m missing out on during those sweltering daylight hours. This photo speaks volumes about the possibility, the excitement and adventure that awaits us as long as we have the time, and gumption to open the door.
(img via)
Many Rivers To Cross
As she raised the glass to her lips, to take the final drink, she said, “This loneliness won’t leave me alone,” but I knew that she was quoting an old song that we used to listen to. She took the final swallow, after she spoke set the glass down and smiled. I didn’t know what to make of what she was saying, or what she was implying so I just sat back and lit a cigarette. I never thought we’d be here again; on the porch of her parent’s beach condo, drunk, while everyone else who was superficially hanging around all weekend were already headed back to the city. But, (and this is how it always starts) she told me to “Come ‘ere,” and said, “why don’t you love me?” knowing that I would, and that I still do. She never, not for a moment left the periphery of my mind, and for the moment I was able to overlook her infidelity, and the drug use that spurred it, and I could forget the time while driving through the desert on our way to Palm Springs after an argument where she told me to “Fucking die, you proletarian ingrate.” and left me on the side of the highway at a diner for three hours until she came back to get me, crying.
All the shit accessories that come along with her melted away the moment she reached for my still wet swim trunks, and pulled them down. Forgotten for however long I could because I was still in love, and she knew it.
