Old Broken Ties with Rock Star

“Renholder” -- This is a drawing I did of me, on the balcony of our old apartment. See, this is when I broke ties with Rock Star about five years ago.

My love/hate relationship… well, I loved him too far, and I needed to stop doing that shit. I’d exhausted too much of myself, my sanity my dignity for him. He was pissing me off – lying in interview, talking shit about his fans. I didn’t want to waste my energy obsessing over him anymore. However, I realized, I would always have such obsessive tendencies – so I decided to invest all that effort into my own artwork. So I blew off Band, and Rock star and became work-a-holic artist. Everyone I knew was work-a-holic anyway.

You know he was slowing me down – oh that and one of my best friends among the Gards died in the line of duty! Where the fuck was he - Why didn’t he at least let us go find her when she didn’t return home after her failed mission for him!? The others wouldn’t accept that she died unnecessarily. The others saw her death as beautiful and romantic since it was for him. Goth kids are dumb sometimes. They saw her cleaned up and pretty in her coffin – they didn’t have to find her that night -they didn't have to carry her home like Crash and I did. They still saw Rock Star as perfect and hot, and infallible blah blah blah. Crash and I knew better – so that was the main reason we left. (I’ll get to the other reason’s later).



“Vacant” is an Illustration I did of Crash and I in our apartment. We shared this lil crappy place in NYC for about a year when we left the band. I think this pretty much sums up how we lived – working 5 jobs combined going to school, ignoring e-mails from the Celestial team, writing papers, doing our own creative stuff when we could, - not sleeping - you know – same old shit as everyone. Yeah, we ran from Rock Star all right.

I shot myself in the foot on my way out the door. Twice.

Yes, I had my own art to invest myself fully in – but it is still – all about him.

Every road leads back to rock star. Even as I shouted to the heavens – my official final “I hate the band and I’m leaving” speech to Crash – just as I screamed my final – Fuck you to Celestial and his Heavens – I cried out “And why the hell is it so fucking hot in here!?” Why? Why was it so hot in that Soho diner – because even the heater that was blasting heat directly on me from above bears his fucking name – that’s why.

As for the other time I shot myself in the foot – Let’s not go there.