The last several weeks have been rough ones, marked with lies, betrayal, shouts, and tears. They've tested the limits of my will and my ability to trust my ability to love and care for other humans. Yes folks, I'm single again, and in that light, I see one of the many things I hate in life in its glory (or lack there of).

Crappy music.

I FUCKING HATE CRAPPY MUSIC. With a passion unmatched by anything in my life. The joys of sex do not match the power of my hatred of crappy music...well, maybe not, but you get my point. Music is something that has literally defined my life, and anything that would smear it must be at the minimum intellectually decimated. Soooooo, when I find myself sitting in a chair at work listening to "What I've Done" on a loop, I want to bash my head against the computer screen until something cracks.

This isn't something that happened just now. This happens EVERY TIME I GO THROUGH A BREAK UP. I find myself listening to The Eagles, Creed, Crazy Town. I feel my soul wearing away everytime "Fly Like an Eagle" or "Butterfly" gets aurally shoved through my skull. I pass my Zepplin, my Marley, my NWA, my Atmosphere and go to this shit.

Maybe it's because of my masochism. I want to suffer, I must feel the pain, I MUST FLAGELLATE MY EARS TO ATONE FOR MY PAIN. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism to prevent myself from dwelling too deeply on my problems. I go to the crap so that I don't taint my good music with crappy memories.

So, with that in mind, I find it comforting that I'm finding myself skipping high pitched screaming and going back to my Floyd, my King, my Hendrix. It's a sign that things are getting better, at least for my ears.