sticker-journal

[sticker-journal]

Sticker Ver.1 2019-2020

NAMES WILL BE CHANGED FOR PRIVACY OF THE HUMANS IN THIS STORY.

In the summer of 2019, I was kicked out of a band who shall remain nameless. I wasn't good at guitar and a terrible singer. (I still think that I am lmao) Even my previous soulmate, (who shall remain nameless) would tell me to leave the house because she couldn't stand my playing. I'm sorry.

I was heartbroken and stuck working at a shitty Walmart. I hated that place. I wanted to slash myself with a box cutter and lay down in the isle just so I could go home.

However, I was more determined to start my own band, so I posted everywhere on my social media that I was looking for a drummer and a bassist. Months passed and I found nobody. Until one of my best friends, Jian. introduced me to a man named Pat.

Pat and I met briefly, on Jian's balcony at a gathering, and we smoked cigarettes, drank tea, and spoke to each other about music, humans, babies being trippy, and drugs for about 2 hours. He asked me to move to Seattle with him. I couldn't do it, thats's crazy! He said drugs were really easy to get out there and we could start a band there.

I declined politely, then he moved away to Seattle.

Focused on finding bandmates, I posted flyers that I had created by hand all around town and only got calls from people who... lol let us just say it wouldn't have worked!

Months flew by, suddenly Pat failed miserably by himself in Seattle, then suddenly moved back. He asked me to meet him at a park near his house to drink and play our guitars. He could't smoke pot because he had some mild schizophrenic episodes in the past.

When we played guitar together, it sounded beautiful. I sang along to the riffs I was playing, and he pretended that his guitar was a bass. We created some lyrics on the spot together for fun on an old tune, and we had immediately decided to start a band together.

I jumped up and danced around, and thanked the Universe for blessing me with a bass player and friend!! I laughed and cheered because I was so happy.

Myself and Pat returned to his mom's house and we drank and smoked cigarettes in his backyard. His family had a very nice backyard. I complained "I wonder why I can't find a drummer! Why is it so difficult?" He replied "I know somebody. I have a friend named Rich and he's a GREAT drummer! Let me call him! He might not answer though."

Pat called, Rich answered. Pat asked to meet the next day and Rich accepted.

The following day, we arrived at Rich's door, a well-lived in, loved, but dusty house. We waited, I sat in a chair in anticipation.

Suddenly a man opened the door, he was wearing a long black trench coat, dark sunglasses, and had very long hair. I was a little confused, startled, and mesmerized by his energy all at the same time.

He welcomed us into his home. "WOW! you have big amps? A drum kit! There's mics! There's a couch! And a radio!!" I was so happy and bouncing off the walls, I asked if I could play his kit, and he let me.

Rich went to the bathroom for what felt like forever and returned wearing a tank top and shorts. He showed me his amps and how they worked, I asked him about his life and his musical experience. Pat plugged in his bass, the mics were turned on, and then we started playing.

I began playing a simple chord progression that me and Pat had practiced. The drums kicked in, and oh shit! This was amazing! I was finally, finally jamming with a real band, as the main guitarist! Pat looked at me and mouthed "sing!" but I was way too shy LMAO. We finished the mini jam and then I asked Rich "can I try to sing a song that me and Pat have been working on?"

We started the song "He's back" and I showed him how it goes, I sang the playful lyrics and kept stopping, because I had NO idea how to sing into a mic. I felt very embarrassed, but Pat kept encouraging me to sing. I finished the song with a loud, wild, and unexperienced scream.

I felt super embarrassed but I asked him anyways. "Do you wanna be in our band?" He said yes!

We hung out many times and played and created a set of about 5 songs. We were doing shrooms a lot, and playing music and listening to music too. I was showing them parts of my journals and discussing ideas all the time.

I couldn't figure out a band name! I was trying for months to think of one, but I couldn't nail a name that fit with the music. We tried many names like: The Zebras, Tooth, Bad Luck Bois, Piss and Ass, Elemeno (like the abc song), Scenic Root.

None of it felt right. I just gave up lmao. Then one day while sitting on the couch, with no pre-meditation, no reason, without a plan, like a lightbulb flashing on above my head, the word "Sticker" came out of my mouth. Then I just kept saying Sticker, and then it stuck. That's the band name! They said they liked it too, so I was glad they didn't shoot my idea down. They never shot my ideas down.

2020 rolled around and we were finally about to play our first show! The date was scheduled for March 23rd, 2020. I was so excited. All of us were!

Covid-19 hit, then I lost my job as a Security Officer at a prestigious hotel in Las Vegas. Everyone was stuck inside. I mean, people decided to go out anyways LOL but I chose to lock myself in my room and I definitely had no issues with that! AND collecting unemployment?? LET'S GO!

Meeting with Pat, Rich, my best friend, and my ex-soulmate were my only reasons to go out. I thought, "Wow! Quarantine is a great opportunity to practice hard as fuck and then come out strong when it's over!" I continued to play relentlessly at home until the tip of my pinky would rip off and my fingertips bled.

My dream of becoming an amazing band was crumbling. Pat started introducing me to drugs i've never tried before, such as MDMA, Coke, maybe some of that shit might have been laced with meth, some of it was pure, taking larger amounts of acid, shrooms, alcohol.

I felt alone, all of my friends and loved ones, I was pushing them away without realizing it. All I cared about was getting blasted out of my mind and playing guitar.

Sometimes I would go on 5 day drug binges, alone in my room, playing guitar, watching concerts, playing games, writing, smoking cigarettes and taking long walks here and there.

One night, I had taken acid in my room, but suddenly the trip didn't feel.. fun or comforting. Something had switched in my mind. I looked at a painting on the wall that my Grandmother had passed down to me. It struck a chord, and I looked down at my hands.

I suddenly felt scared, I started panicking. I saw that my body was an explosion of particles and flesh, and it freaked me the fuck out. I stepped outside, and realized I was a human without an umbilical cord. I felt that my halo above my head was faint for a moment, and I started becoming even more scared.

I took deep breathes and lit a cigarette, the sun was rising, and when I smoked the cigarette, I was taken to the place that the tobacco had been planted and grown. I couldn't do anything without seeing the literal creation of everything inside of my mind.

I just kept hitting the cigarette and walked even farther down the road. Once I started walking back down the road, I went back home and laid in my bed. My room was in the back of the house, by the washroom, hidden, the smallest, and farthest away from all of the other rooms in the house. I was staying at a friend's house because their mother saved me after I became homeless at one point in time.

As I started drifting off, I looked at the clock and said to myself, "OH SHIT! I was supposed to take my little cousin to work like I promised! I'm gonna be late!!"

I got into my car, still slightly coming down from the acid and picked her up. We drove to her work, and once I parked I looked at her. I threw the cigarette out of the window and started crying extremely hard.

"I'm so sorry Cousin, I'm so sorry. I can't believe what I have done to myself and my mind. I don't think i'll ever be the same. I can't stop doing drugs and trying to escape reality at any costs. I used to be so kind and smart and energetic. I love you, and I want you to be able to rely on me. I'm gonna stop, I promise. I'm so sorry."

She wasn't mad at me, she didn't look at me differently, she comforted me and supported me and said that she will always love me. She headed into work, and I went back home to sleep.

I took acid again less than a week later, and then after I came down, me and my ex-soulmate decided to visit Arizona to see my father.

By the way. My ex-soulmate had NO idea that I was doing so many drugs. I was keeping secrets from her out of guilt. I'm so sorry.

Anyways, let's rewind just slightly.

During the heavy covid lockdown phase, I was hanging around Pat and Rich, and their semi-large friend group they had sucked me into. We all did drugs together. Everything revolved around drugs and Sticker.

I soon began to notice that we were doing more drugs and "partying" more than band practice. It started to piss me off. Pat started bringing women around more and more. Women came onto us, and all Pat could think about was MDMA, Coke, and having sex with men and women. I became depressed but stuck around, because this was my first band, and I didn't know that there were more possibilities in my future. I thought that this was the only version of Sticker. "Soon we'll stop fucking around and focus on music." Pat never listened to me. He would lie, and skip band practice to go do mdma at a park with women. Rich always canceled band practice.

I started losing all faith in things.

Anyways, a while after my little acid breakdown in front of my cousin, Pat, Rich, and I met at a park to have a band meeting. Pat really wanted to get something off of his chest.

"Our friend, I got really drunk with her, and we had sex. When we woke up the next morning she claimed that she didn't want to do that and was really upset. I thought she wanted to!"

I was pissed. While for a moment I was glad he came forward and had the courage to be honest, but then something didn't feel right. I felt like this was a 3/4th truth, I may be wrong though. I trust my insticts.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you fucking kidding me Pat? We are NOT that kind of band! What the fuck!" I scolded him and we talked more about the situation.

I drove home, and I was so upset. Rich seemed to be upset too. This was my first time experiencing something like this.

A few days later after not talking to anybody, I met with Rich. We decided to go on a hike, we walked together up Lone Mountain. Our goal was to reach the top.

Before our quest, Rich pulled out some type of gel, and said it was an extremely powerful form of THC. He squeezed it out of a syringe type of tool onto my finger, and I rubbed it all over my gums.

We walked, and I became very high. I realized how high I was about halfway up the mountain. We reached the top, and there was a big metal disk at the edge of the cliff.

We were together, Rich was quite a few feet behind me, and I joked "HEY LOOK! It's our record deal!"

Rich responded loudly, "Whoever touches it first, gets the most money!!"

I laughed and rushed for the metal plate, but Rich passed me somehow and touched it first. I was confused at the way he ran past me so quickly.

We sat for a while, and I told him "Look Rich, we can't play with Pat anymore. I don't want to. We need a new bass player. I want to be an inspiration for the humans. I don't to be on some young kid's wall one day holding a cigarette, standing next to a man who only sees people as sex objects, constantly doing drugs, and fucking people for his own pleasure. He infects people with drugs every time they are around him. I don't want this."

"I agree." He said.

We climbed down hiked down the mountain. He drove back with me to a park. We sat down at a park bench table together.

He told me a story about a girl he once dated in high school. Her name was Jenny, and he took a blade and carved a J in his right hand. He still had the scar, the mark. He said "Now I can say, I've always got a J in my hand." Haha, pretty clever I guess.

I asked "Rich, why do you want to be in Sticker? Why did you choose to be in a band with me? Why do you do this?"

Rich then told me "Dennis I want to be in a band with you because I like your songs, I like your voice, and I think we can make money together. We are going to be so Rich. We are going to live off of this music, and I will have everything that I want."

"Is this the only reason why you want to be in a band? Money?" I asked.

"Yeah... of course."

I was turned off. I was sad. As Rich and I began to walk away, he said "Me and you should totally take acid together at my house sometime. I can show you some things and open your mind to stuff that you have never seen before."

Rich was a lot older than me, almost 17 years older. I became slightly frightened without Pat by my side as usual, and I just said "Yeah! Some time..."

I went home, still high from what he gave to me earlier on the mountain. Suddenly, I felt like lightning had struck the top of my head.

I was in a dark red room. One of my best friends was crawling towards me, he had a chain on his neck, he was naked, crawling on all fours. He was panting like a dog. He said "Come on Dennis! Come join us."

I looked up, and I saw Rich sitting at drum kit, shirtless, a ripped and muscular body, laughing hysterically, and chin pointed towards the ceiling. He cocked his head down toward me and stared. His eyes were completely black, pure evil. Pure evil. His hand was down my his crotch, and he was forcing my ex-soulmate down on himself, she couldn't breathe. I saw Pat fluttering around the room with demon wings, an adult face, with a beard, fat cheeks, but the body of an infant. He was acting similar to a cupid. Then, I saw a billboard with Rich's face on it. He was famous, alive, and smiling. He had taken my bright smile, and life. I was dead.

I jolted out of the vision and let out a small scream. I knew this was a message from above. I need to get out. Everything hit me all at once.

I started remembering when me and Rich and Pat hung out all the time and did drugs. They said things to me that I didn't think much of at the time. Pat said something like: "Yeah me and Rich actually share an ancient demon bloodline. We are the lions and you are our lamb, we will sacrifice you. You will be the final one to sit in the chair of music, and all of music will end with you."

I began to panic, I remembered that most musicians who "sold their soul" met the devil and he appeared in all black. The devil offered them everything they wanted and tricked the musicians into accepting his tempting deal. "Those are JUST stories though!! That can't be fucking real. I'm going crazy." Rich had shown me everything the day I met him. He showed me everything, he had all the gear in his house that we needed to record, he had his own practice space in his living room, all the things that amazed me that I didn't know before. I freaked the fuck out.

I was soon being kicked out of my friend's house. I think they knew I was doing a lot of drugs in secret there. I was about to become homeless, and then I told my best friend everything that had happened. We got an apartment together with some friends. I had to beg them to let me stay because I was going to be homeless again. Thank you for helping me.

The first month living there, I was doing drugs still every other day and had a shrooms trip. Shit I needed that one. I saw so many things. I met God. I was blessed. I was shown suffering and torment, and then grace and love. Thank you.

I did drugs one last time, an extremely small amount of MDMA. I felt scared because I saw a terrible vision and felt that I was abusing my beautiful mind again and God was angry. I went back home to my apartment and sat on the ground and cried because I couldn't stop fucking up.

I decided to end the band. I sent a long text to both of them after an entire day of drafting. I told them my morals did not align with them. I don't play music for sex, drugs, fame, or money. I play music because I love music. I play it for myself, the beautiful humans who need it, and God. For everything.

They were pissed.

Then, I broke up with her. I told her the truth about everything. I wanted to be honest with her. For once. I'm so sorry. Goodbye. She hates me now, and I will never blame her. I hope you're happy and loved to the fullest by everyone around you! Thank you.

One day, after crying in the shower and having a panic attack again, I stepped out, and started at myself in the mirror. I hated myself. I hated the old band. I hated everything they put me through.

Then I looked at myself and said "YOU!! FUCK YOU! You did this. It's all YOUR fault! You did this to yourself! You did. Not Pat, Not Rich, but YOU! You made those choices to lie and do drugs. YOU did. You did this to yourself! Stop blaming everyone else!"

That's the day that I grew up.

I crushed my cigarettes, threw them out the door, I didn't do drugs for a long time after that. It was really hard to quit all substances. I locked myself in my room, I played games to comfort myself. I met my cat Misty. She became my best friend, one of my soulmates. I love you Misty, you saved my life. You gave me a reason to live and stay at home.

I didn't play guitar for almost a year. I mean, I picked it up here and there, but I needed to take a break. I never thought I'd start a band ever again. I cried a lot, and I hated myself.

I began to tap into my old self again, no drugs, no smoking, consistently working out and practicing martial arts, I got a good job, and I became stronger within my Mind, Body, and Soul. My friendships and family became stronger, and life started getting better.

I have been scarred from that experience with that band, and to this day, I still struggle with sad thoughts, and fear that they tried to take my soul. I'm not dumb though. I mean maybe a little bit LMAO but not that dumb. I'm getting better though at pushing those thoughts away though. I can do it almost instantly now as soon as they try to attack me.

Anyways, that's Sticker version one for ya!

By the way, listening to old recordings from that band, WE SOUNDED TERRIBLE xD lmaooooo

There's no WAY those mfs were gonna get rich and famous LMAO they were trippin xD

sorry if theres a ton of typos lmao

#band #story #Sticker #daisy #alien #rock #true #daisies

[sticker-journal]

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