Scott Weiland is Gone

[disappointed_lesbian]

I was once again looking for new music to listen to during my otherwise boring daily cycling sessions when I decided to see whether the Velvet Revolver had ever released a new album. I stopped buying albums over a decade ago, never set foot in record stores and don't keep up with music news, so I never know when the bands I like release new albums.

So I ended up looking up the singer for this band, Scott Weiland, who, I realized at that point, is my favorite rock vocalist. I guess I just love his intonation. I have a very love/hate relationship with the sound of human voices. Thus I found out that he died five or six years ago! That news made me feel so weird. I guess I was kind of sad, but not really because I care about the guy as a person (I can't since I don't know him, although the way he died, possible cocaine overdose, is kinda pathetic), but because it means I'll never hear his voice in any new songs (not including his work that I haven't gotten to yet).

So I got nostalgic and listened to the albums he released with his first band, Stone Temple Pilots. Lots of gorgeous melodies. Most bands, I don't like many of their songs, but STP is one of the bands that put out pretty solid albums.

I was so affected by the knowledge of this guy's death, the death of his voice, that I felt the urge to tell somebody. But music is so subjective, no one would ever really know how I felt, really experience his singing the way I do. So I guess there would be no point in telling anyone (not that I have anyone to tell). It's all trapped inside of me. Me and my experience of music.

I know that some people care about lyrics a lot. I don't. That and all the other little differences between me and others, even just differences in genre preferences, tells me there's no point. No real sharing. They can't hear what I hear nor feel what I feel. And it almost seems like things shouldn't be that way, that people should be able to share that way. But of course we cannot.

Now that my dermatology appointment is no longer taking up mental space, my next focus is my virtual appointment with someone from the sleep medicine department. I got a card in the mail from this department several days ago; all it says is that I don't have sleep apnea. The lower threshold for sleep apnea is five breathing cessation events per hour; I scored 1.3 per hour, which seems odd, because i didn't sleep at all.

So the card didn't give me any usable information (I already knew that I don't have sleep apnea), and now I'm waiting for the appointment to get some help sleeping. I'm afraid the doctor or whoever won't be able to help me. It's gonna be a tough life if I have to go on like this, never getting a full night's sleep. I'm a bit worried that the sleep medicine department and my primary care provider will think my insomnia is a somatic response to a psychological problem and want to send me to therapy. I'm pretty damned sure it's a medical problem, particularly since my sleep is so easily and consistently affected by purely physical changes like temperature, noise, and lighting. Making doctors see this, however, might prove challenging.

I can see my chest getting bigger, and so I am pleased. Right now only a bit of extra muscle near my armpits is visible, but I'm sure they'll be more in good time. I'd like to develop some muscle striations in my chest, but I'll probably never be lean enough for that. There isn't a lot of fat on my upper chest, however, so maybe it'll happen. What would really be insane is if I got shredded enough to have visible thigh muscles. My thighs are always the fattiest part of my body and the last to lean out. They're also the body part I always want most badly to lean out.

The diet is still fairly effortless, and I'm not sure at what point it might begin to require real work. I'll probably abandon it at that point; the whole point of changing the way I eat was to lose weight and keep it off with little effort. Actually, instead of abandoning the diet at that point, I will probably be able to tweak the way I eat yet again. I'm being a bit lax with some things that I can tighten up on if necessary.

I would like my breasts to shrink as well. They aren't large, but my ideal is a bit smaller. I used to wonder why men's chests looked so alien to me, particularly since I really dislike the look of prominent breasts, but I realized one day recently that it's because they have no breasts. My ideal human chest has small, not very round breasts. I apparently held that ideal unconsciously for some time.