I thought about livestreaming for the first time a few hours ago and about one hour later I was livestreaming FF7. I originally thought of excessively meandering around Cosmo Canyon, my favorite part of the game, to motivate me to continue on. Then I wondered: What if I meander around while livestreaming this experience with the vast unknown of anonymous and users with names? Plus, I can keep the recordings of both test videos forever.
I recently inherited a Clutch Discord server. The old server owner was going to delete it until I offered to take over and manage it. Over the past few days, I’ve added, removed, and changed around enough settings to expand it into a general music discussion server. As the idiom goes, one person’s trash is another person’s treasure. I think about that when donating things or throwing things away. What if no one wants this?
I have 175 photos and one video from when I saw Arkona in 2019. A common criticism of amateur photographers like myself is that we take so many photos but never look at them and we take videos but never watch them. Well, my thirty-second video was a blast! Its audio shifts from channels to one randomly, twice, but until COVID-19 is a predictable virus that we can treat, photos like these will be my concert experiences.
Writing this five-part series about passing seven years of sobriety has been exhausting. Anxiety over current events hasn’t helped. Although I don’t see a reason why my sobriety would be broken between now and year eight, this degree of self-examination has left me feeling exhausted. When I write essays normally, it’s guiding along my perspective, rather than addressing my own inadequacies. I try to do this whenever possible to bleed out false pretenses and arrogance.
In previous entries into this series, I wrote about the events that inspired my sobriety – seeing Clutch. I’ve taken some meandries because how many thousands of words can one write about any topic? Well, there is still the matter of addressing the question of how often do I want to go back to those simpler times? Although my life is much better “clean and mostly serene,” there is one major disadvantage: you can’t fully relax.
I don’t have any media – video or audio – from my sobriety date where I saw Clutch live. The event happened. I’m not looking for evidence, rather, reinvigorating memories for pleasure. When people would trash-talk others for taking videos that they’d never watch, well, that might have been true for most, before, but now with minimum two-week self-isolation orders around the US and the world, I think we would look back at that media fondly now.
Without looking, I forget how many times I’ve seen Clutch live, just like many times I forget my sobriety date. Both, and many other examples, exist nebulously in my mind, imagination, and memories as events that happened that shaped me into who I am. Going outside, even trivially to throw out trash, can shape us, so not everything we do is overly serious. Still, the most noteworthy events tend to exist outside of arbitrary pedantries.
I was irresponsible, in mostly small ways, throughout most of March 2013, leading up to seeing Clutch at Showbox at the Market on the 29th. I drunk enough to not notice someone else do something more embarrassing than anything I was doing, to not notice the show, but to notice it was time for a lifestyle change. Over the years, I’ve returned to this event, as I will in years to come. Let’s instead consider totalities.
In life, we often want it all, whether it’s seeing our favorite bands live, enjoying every second of every minute of every day, or whether it’s living an idealized lifestyle. The problem with that is sometimes we can’t see our favorite bands live. What if Clutch and Sabaton perform on the same evening? We don’t like being decisive in life because that means we have to make the hard decisions. Sometimes, simple answers guide us.
Clutch is one of my two favorite live bands, yet this was the first time I debated whether waiting in line for maybe 30 minutes to buy merchandise was worthwhile. I’ve gone to hundreds of different shows by now, spent money superfluously at merch booths at first with the noble intentions of “supporting the bands,” then “supporting my favorites,” now, just buying what I absolutely want. What I don’t have I can just buy online, right?