Calluses

My guitars need new strings.

This is and has been a recurring concern for at least two years now.

My classical nylon string guitar that I've had for about 15 years now is always in bad shape: always covered in dust, always going out of tune, always in need of at least one string.

My electric guitar is also in desperate need of strings. I have not changed them since I got it back in 2005. Except for the top string (the thinnest one). That one's been replaced a few times.

No, the problem isn't that they need to be fixed or have components replaced. It's that they need to stop being neglected.

The lack of new strings or strings in some cases should only serve as challenges to overcome but there is a wall. I've been here many times before but this time, the wall seems more daunting than ever. It feels almost permanent.

Something that would bring me hours of joy now serves as a flickering reminder of the hopes and dreams that I once held so close to my heart.

At one point, I really did want to be what the kids call a "rock star." You can thank countless hours spent listening to Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin for this, and being hypnotized by Santana's brilliant guitar work for this. Also, I was 16 and easily impressionable.

Then, when I was 18, I wanted to be a session guitarist. This was me trying to be an adult and take on adult responsibilities by taking a job but then I remembered that I couldn't read sheet music to save my ass.

I tried to start several bands in high school but people lost interest quickly, never had interest to begin with, or just got lazy and never stuck to a rehearsal schedule.

Last year was probably the last time I would ever try forming a band. I admit, a surf band is probably a relic of the past but a lot of people would disagree with a statement like that. The Space Cossacks, Laika and the Cosmonauts, The Mermen, etc. Still, the fact that equally enthusiastic people bailed on me again killed any enthusiasm I had for that fleeting shred of a dream of performing something so sacred (to me) and special in front of crowds for a long time. It probably killed any desire I had for starting bands, at least. Another callus.

My problem always seems to be a lack of motivation and a painful lack of inspiration.

And being trapped in a cycle of realizing the same thing over and over with nary a flicker of gold.

The tips of my fingers have become harder and more resistant to a similar cycle. Only difference is this cycle helped with something, the other seems to make me complain more (not a good thing.)

Damn.