THE HAUNTED Frontman: 'I Know I'm Homesick 'Cause I See Pretty Girls In The Audience'

THE HAUNTED frontman Peter Dolving has posted the following message on his MySpace page:

"Tonight I'm homesick. The shows in München and Zürich was great and I can feel my body getting back in shape after two and a half weeks of feeling like a crippled oilspill volontary with tuberculosis, coughing my own lunges out just to inhale them back in...

"I know I'm homesick 'cause I see pretty girls in the audience. My head works like that. It tries to distract me from emotions of loss, sorrow and longing. Hey, it could be worse, I could be seeing dead people... Instead some tiny little clutter of proteins in the darkest dirtiest reptilian part of my brain switches to ON and activates the radar. I'm up there rocking my ass off, sweating like a pig and just getting down with it as the radar starts ticking. Prowling to spot the most made-up and ready to go hot chicks. Scanning 1,500 people like a fucking ninja warrior. Click click click... six lanes down, fourth to the left next to ugly rockdude trying to be tough guy in HATEBREED hoodie: Target detected. Asian girl. Early twenties. Click click click... Stage right four lanes back, by the wall and the guy with a mullet. Target located. Blonde rockette, short TIGHT leather skirt. Stay ups... Click click click...

"A part of me is Robot Boy and Robot Boy annoys the hell out of me. Because I see all these other girls and women at the shows that look completely human to me. We smile at each other and sing or just kinda give each other that cool rock nod, like; 'Yeah, this is so fucking intense and I'm so glad we're here right now!' but somehow along the way Robot Boy got well programmed to respond, aggressively, to certain signals. Certain hair-dos or make-up or clothes or even just looks and ways of moving and in the back of my mind Robot Boy is screaming for my attention: 'HEY!!! Fuckwad!!! Turn around!!! Look back over there!! That girl over there would fuck your brains out!'...

"Meanwhile, blissfully, I'm too stunned by the assault of being in the middle of attempt number two thousand and hundred-something to annihilate my own conscious extistence by force of just rocking out, to have coherent thoughts. Yeah! One two three four and it's on! Screaming my guts out, trying to keep myself from falling over, digging the beat and the guitars and feeling completely insane. Sweat running off me like someone poured a bucket of water on me. It's great. I dig the hell out of it. It's good to be alive. Afterwards, as my brain is toasted in adrenalin and dopamines, still twitching slightly and I'm too zonked to think about anything, I just zone out on the fact I'm alive.

"My body works. Good pain as opposed to bad pain as I breathe slowly. Stretch, relax, stretch, relax. Digging the muscle tissue that helps me contort, retract and make sounds I still have a hard time accepting is me. I wind down from that feeling of strange numb aching craziness to a simmering sense of reality. Fatigue hits me like a brick wall and I head out to the bus to stuff myself with carbs my body is now whimpering for. Hoping I'll fall asleep. Like that's going to happen... Three hours later I'm in my bunk and that library of sensory input we all have goes on random. These chicks come back and then I know... I'm homesick. I miss my kids, I miss my wife, I miss my house and I miss my friends. I miss the forest and I miss my own bed.

"But guess what. It's OK to miss people I love. That means I have someone I love. And I'll be home in a few days for a couple of weeks before we head back out again. You know what? I am so happy that I get to do this for a living and I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Robot Boy? He can make all the fucking noise he wants to, all he really wants is some attention, and I can give him that. I just don't have to do everything he tells me..."