Where shall I begin

So I have several productivity flaws. Procrastination is definitely one of them, but isn't currently the issue of the month. Sometimes I have a lack of drive in general, similar to procrastination, but more like a lost sense of direction, and for the life of me, these past few months weeks have not found drive in the "real" world.
I guess this is the problem when you have a plan that falls through, which I have had several plans within the year that fell through. We will start at the top of the list, which would be the last relationship I had. We will just call her Ms. X.
I no longer have any personal issues with Ms. X, I think she is a great person who just had the wrong relationship with the wrong person at the wrong time, and I wish her well. Our situation is that we met in one town as we were both planning on moving to the same town. She was moving there for its university, I was moving there for music (Which I will later discuss.)
So you have two people engaging in a "young love" type relationship, where one of which views it a little more fleeting. The fleeting "young love" relationship is normal for the age group we were in, so being in a "young love" relationship, I wasn't on mutual levels of fleetingness. We were making plans together, and of course they fell apart, primarily due to our age, maturity, and just overall compatibility. Somethings things just don't work out.
So I'll cut to the part about music, because its part of one plan turning into a failed plan. Years earlier, I played drums for a moderately successful band (from a local perspective, of course). The band was a fun experience and our short run had some good shows with an energetic fan base. It's a 16 year old drummers dream. You get a little bit of popularity, you get paid after shows, and you get your first experience playing live music in front of a crowd that actually likes it. So all in all it created some good memories from high school, and I will always remember those as good days.
The band that I was moving to, which we'll call Band X, was composed of the singer and the songwriter from previous said band, which we'll call Band Y. Band X would have been a rehashed version of Band Y, with new songs and new members. So with the thought of the Band Y days in the back of my head, I was thinking we'd be playing shows just like the old days. We would regenerate a new fan base in a new town with a bigger drive.
Well after a few weeks, I lost interest quickly. It just didn't feel like my thing. The town didn't feel like home, no prospective job interests, and a steadily declining relationship with Ms. X. So I decided it be best to move back to the town I came from, which I did and Ms. X broke up with me.
Now you could imagine with such ambitious goals, which at they time they were for me, this would feel like quite the failure, as it did, and for the following 2 or 3 months I was fairly depressed, but once I moved back I decided to pick up back where I left off in school. I was studying psychology and nursing, with the intentions of either becoming an R.N. or a Psychiatric R.N. The semester started out great, I had good teachers, decent classes, and was enjoying my studies.
Well a cluster of different issues came up during the semester, stress being a major one with any college student. During that time I requested part time hours at my work. Instead I was scheduled 48 hours a week! 48 hours of work on top of full time school! Now don't let me deceive you, it only lasted 2 weeks. But it happened during the peak of the semester, during all the work, and all the clinicals for my nursing class. That same time, I was devoting at least 8 hours of clinical time at the hospital or a nursing home a week.
Somehow I managed, although my grades were slipping a bit, and I managed until I was working one clinical. One of the patients on my wing died. So as a learning experience, I had to help perform post mortem care on the patient (i.e. I had to clean the dead body and prepare it before it was transferred to the mortuary). That experience taught me the feeling of true emptiness, a lost essence of ones life. I had developed an instant respect for someone whom I had never met.
Through this stress induced period of life between work, school, and little sleep, I had experienced a feeling so strong from someone I never have and never will know. She could have seen and experienced so much and could have done many great things that I will never know about, and all I know her as is a $10.00 an hour job of washing a dead body. I don't know about you, but that's pretty intense to me. I'm not some kind of insensitive jackass, I am just not sure if I want to see the end result of someones life because I'm working on the clock. To not know anything about them, to just keep them in a game that they will inevitably lose. The image of her just lying there will probably be stuck in my head forever.
So after that I just had enough and dropped out. I had enough with school at that point and needed a break. My job was busy yet steady, so I decided to work full time. That worked for awhile. Due to the overscheduling back in spring, when my classes and clinicals were, we overproduced too much of our product, which is ice cream cones. I am laid off due to overproduction, I find that ironic but I'm not gonna question it much.
Back to my original intention of this post though, the loss of drive that I have had lately. I guess writing all this got something off my chest that makes me feel a bit better about the justification of my position right now. Laid off with no work or school.
Maybe I am a true musician and will use this time to write some songs? Maybe I'll use the time to strengthen relationships? Maybe I'll go out to discover some more steps towards my dreams? Either way, I have found during these past few months that everybody's just waiting for their "real" life to begin. That's why I don't question my mistakes too much, it's very possible that I could be 10 years from now with plenty of materialistic things, impressive goals accomplished, a Ph.D in Psychology with a six figure job, finding that I am really more lost than I was when I was young and happy, and right now I'm young and happy.

Welcome duders..

Howdy y'all! So I'm new to the blog thing, and honestly it makes me feel like that guy in high school who listened to too much Slayer and made his profile with a black background and red ink, (you know who I'm talking about, and I don't know who "you" are yet, but hey maybe I'll get a following.)

So yeah, today was awesome, I started a band today with the intent of a pregnancy with my longtime friend Devin. We both have given in some efforted foreplay to starting a band, and today we knocked it up. It will be the revolutionary pioneer in non-profit music, or just nick-named Propaphonhi by a heckling crusty. At least we're not vegan, that band would get shit, for sure.

No no no, this band is a great idea, and I'll release the name when we're official... whatever that means. We'll have it all: A fog machine. Cut off sleeve shirts. Shitty tattoo's that would make the likes of Tommy Lee jealous. Songs about how rock and love are the life, while having degrading songs about hanging out in a rockin' strip clubs. Unprotected sex with an assortment of STD's infested groupies. A double bass drum set. Marshall half stacks, Expensive vintage guitars, and last but not least..... originality.

This idea screams originality, its never been done before. And if you're buying that, I'm a serious master of bullshitting. If you're not, I'm just full of shit, and I appreciate the eye for sarcasm.

Really, to the contrary, we're just gonna be another punk band that doesn't give a fuck, yet secretly does. It's slightly rigged so we won't be complete phonies. There will be an aesthetic found by the right aesthetic seekers, and we will have a fan base of 22 dudes and 3 chicks, fashionistas sporting NOFX, Lawrence Arms, and possibly a Banner Pilot shirts. Maybe a Jawbreaker shirt if we're lucky, but its about taking baby steps.

Don't get me wrong, this is a far fetched dream that was just concieved, and living in a small college town doesn't make it any easier, (not to mention the complete meltdown of cultural evolution through the hipster, which I will go into detail here in a bit), but this dream will be achieved through persistence, a realization of the non-profitability of music, and the most important ambition generator..... booze. The idea is flawless, and hey, maybe a small label will pick us up down the road and our fanbase will grow 1000 percent (do the math, and remember about the babysteps). Either way a new level of stoked has found me. Awesome!

Anyway, I'll cut to the chase. The purpose of this blog.

The purpose of this blog:

I don't know, something about these modern days has me resorting to the internet; its a leisure activity of mine every couple of days. After that my life is a chase for debaucherous nights, packing ice cream cones in a factory for enough money to keep me there, and procrastinating of pursuing my art, music. It's a slightly mindfucking combination that keeps me on edge with despair. Although I know I'm not leading a life of despair, nor will I ever until a midlife crisis, it's always lurking..

So despair lurks (I'm getting sidetracker here), but it's a good reminder that there are fine things in life, and for me to enjoy the fine things in life, theres moderation, and for me being an alcoholic with an ambition of non-profit music as I profit off of packing ice cream cones, I need some time to vent out the quirks and qualities of life, and if I'm gonna be a dropped out nursing student at the moment, I need to construct some form of thought, hence my new blog.

Now behind the name, why The Hipster Bologna. We live in a time of hipsterdom, at least I do being slapped into the age group where my social life resides. In plain english, I'm surrounded by a montage of hipsters, bad hair cuts, weird music, and PBR. Although an older generation could classify me into that boat, these last two, possibly three generations, have seen my boat sailin' for a while, as the new boat, hipster, is a freshly built one. You can still smell the fresh paint. It kind smells like garnier. Hehe.

Either way I think this new cult is similar to bologna sausage, processed and finely ground by a panel of regulation, composed of odds and ends (Manhattan hipsters vary from Scottsdale hipsters who vary from Modesto hipsters due to a change in media source, regional social activity, and fashion source). Or in a simpler understanding, from bologna derives baloney as a meaning for "nonsense."

I know a 70 year old man would consider my taste in life as "nonsense," but if lined up next to 19 a year old art student with a bad haircut, vest, tight jeans with a shoestring belt, and a V-neck shirt, I'd make for a pretty good conversation starter to that 70 year old man.

So I'm finished here, and to all the hipsters who might read this, I'm sorry someone let the cat out of the bag. At least you aren't bad people or anything, you're probably just a little caught up in a trend.