#journalsong

[rustbeltjessie]

Steve Gavertz, from Journalsong #6 (drawing by Adam)

[rustbeltjessie]

You look back at it now and you kinda cringe. You look back at it now and are so thankful that you only had the luxury of your dad’s crappy copy machine to duplicate it on. You look back at it now and even you the writer can’t figure out what exactly those cut off letters spell out. You look back at it now and you wonder who the fuck was this person that had the gall to lay on the line such simple stupid stories. Stories that had been told so many times before in such more nuanced and effective ways. You think about how much you’ve changed in other ways too. You look a little longer at yourself in the mirror before you go out. You’d rather have a few beers with an old friend than take a chance on some new band blowing out your already damaged ears. Your views aren’t as simple as they were back then. There were so many ways to sell out and so few ways to do anything really right. It was the pitch blackest blacks and the frilliest lightest whites. You got so angry and so easily too. But you also think about how much more willing you were to take a stance on things. How much more curious you could be about any sort of encounter. Your itsy-bitsy world made so much more sense back then and even though shit never blew up there were always a few sparks to keep you going. Even though you never quite pinned it down, something more always seemed possible. And you know that for all the pretty little things you’ve acquired along the way, the trade-off was losing something much bigger. You know where all the commas and semi-colons go. You don’t have to rely on spell-check all the time. Run-on sentences have been split up into bite-size twos and threes. You’ve got a crystal clear thesis, a chunky ass body, and a conclusion like a judge’s gavel. But somehow there isn’t as much to be said, now that you know how to say it all so nicely. Too many tools, not enough limitations, and all of a sudden the world is just a place where you try to hold on to whatever comfort you can find. You’re not so afraid anymore. That sucks because you know that genuine excitement always has an element of fear mixed in. If you don’t take any risks you won’t really appreciate what you end up with. You don’t know how to get any of it back but maybe if you thought about it a little harder, you wouldn’t want to. You always have to be in a state of reinventing yourself. And it’s more important to reinvent yourself to yourself than to the outside world. That’s it! The one phrase that will put to rest any doubt you’ve ever had. It’s allowing things to make sense for a second, letting go, then not counting on anything to make sense ever again.

Steve Gavertz, "first zine" (from Journalsong #6)

[rustbeltjessie]

Journalsong, by Steve Gavertz. (Photos from issue #6.)

Was Journalsong the most emo zine title ever, or was it the most emo zine title ever? Ha ha, seriously though - I loved Journalsong. Steve and I were penpals for a while, and he wrote me sweet, sad little letters and he wrote these sweet, sad little stories in his zine that made me feel not so bad about being a sorta-emo zinester myself. The artwork in issue #6 was done by Nicole J. Georges, who is (was?) a rad zinester in her own right.

(More Steve Gavertz/Journalsong on my blog: I kept saying to myself I wouldn't fall in love...)

[rustbeltjessie]

I kept saying to myself I wouldn't fall in love again with anyone else until I fell in love with myself first. Ha. Or at least until I found life exciting and worthwhile most of the time. I kept telling myself those things but who can control love? It comes and it leaves and always leaves you wanting more.

Steve Gavertz, from Journalsong #2

[g4bcollective]

I want it to be tighter than the blue jeans she use to wear. I want them to put their hands on their heads and scream like we're the Beatles. I want to make them dance like no one dances anymore

Journalsong #5