i'm blogging more frequently, but what can one do?
i had an odd day and therefore i shall write. that's all there is to it.
this is what happens when you have two weekend days of not doing anything in a row.

the subject for the day: music. this will be played out like a "this american life" episode. i will have a theme but the variations on it will really be what matters.

first off. i am getting tired of songs about love, and i think that's why i like nick drake so much. and the other artists that i'm into. (but mostly him, yeah, i'll admit) because the lyrics don't fall back into the "oh, i love you" and relationships and how they fail, the swell, the whatevers of them. too much music about that. and if that's what you want to write about, go for it, but there's only so many ways one can say things like that, and everything's becoming cliched. i like originality and newness. i like songs about emotion and life and sure, love, but not just the person or how they look but the emotion, the solidarity and the feeling. music just about the "i love you, you are so beautiful, i want to hold you" sometimes just feels like they couldn't think of anything else to write about.

that's my little rant, i think.

next is something i find strange. there's been this ongoing rule in my house since i can't remember when that i am not allowed to sing. my younger brother hates my voice, hated it when i was singing constantly (and i know it's annoying, but at that point it was just something i did and couldn't help), and eventually brought the problem to my mother. there was a request for no more singing and, after a little fight, some "it's not fair"s, and, i will admit, a few tears, i fell into the rule. i can't sing in my house unless i'm home alone or i know nobody can hear me. whatever. i accept that, i will live on these people's terms, i have to share this house with them, too. sure i hate the fact that my brother can practice drums without issues, but i am basically over it. the strange thing is when i told someone about it, it became this issue. like some giant case of abuse. "that's terrible, it really is." and i never really saw it that way. sure, i didn't like it, but i just lived with it. and i find it so strange that so many people think it's this heartbreaking thing for me not to be able to sing. the fact that i don't sing in the shower shocks a lot of people, but i haven't in years. and i don't know if i ever will. i realized today while cleaning that even if i was told it's ok to sing in my house again...i don't know if i ever will be able to. it's just this stigma, this idea that this is not the time or place. and i am ok with that. i have to be.

that's the oddly emotional part of the post.

i find it so hard to like music that is angry. i don't understand...why anyone would listen to it unless they are angry themselves. and anger is something to let go of, not reinforce. that's why i like calm music, peaceful. because that's what i want to reinforce within myself. peace. it ties into the quote about how people who live in houses with a lot of screaming can't stand screaming music. all i want is peace and that is what i try to get out of my music. that's why i find it interesting to see people's taste in music. a lot of people want happiness - upbeat, techno, dancing, bouncy - or to reinforce their anger. some people just want to be accepted, to be cool. what you want is shown through what music you listen to, to a good extent.

that's the analytical one.

lastly is my life "gah" about college auditions that i don't want to do, that i don't have music for, that i feel unnecessary yet know are very necessary. i just want to be accepted into a college and have my current music teachers tell them that i am good enough to get into such-and-such an ensemble and then automatically get into it. but fuck idealism, it only gets me into more trouble, makes me so lazy, fills my head with nothingness. the real idealism is to somehow become a guitar virtuoso over the summer (or at least sort of good) and begin writing music...and become a folk singer for the rest of my life. sort of drift from town to town. maybe begin my career on some street corners in big cities but eventually record something, get an indie record deal, and become one of those people that only a select few listen to. i don't want fame, but to make money off of doing what i really, really love...and, well, folk music is it. but that will never, ever happen and i need to get a job and i need to find something else i love. there are fields in music i will make a living off of and i will love them and everything will end up in a decent place.



one never knows

i love sleep so much

so why can't i just go to bed?

(and amongst all the turmoil
it's the music, the late nights that put me at peace)

i miss dreaming.
i miss dreaming so much.
but i can't just lie down, close my eyes, with so many things unresolved about today.
sleeping means that today is done, that i've given up on it in a way. and i can't go back.
i've done all i can do today.

which is not sufficient.

but you know what? i'll be regretting this tomorrow. and so off i go.


like song lyrics.

i'm so glad to be losing what i've been holding onto for so long, desperately clinging
i'm glad to watch a hundred little balloons float away, away, away, and out of my mind.
it's delightful.

what a pretty picture.


i'm falling in love with nick drake again
not like i haven't always been
but each time i listen to a song
he rolls over me again and again, i am filled with nick drake
to the brim.
my mind is nothing but him.

i love.

it is desperately sad to be totally in love with someone who is not even alive.
and whom i've never met.


but i'm not really in love.
i just feel a sort of tender curiousity.



new computer.

all play counts set to 0 on itunes (which is currently changing as we speak)
everything brilliant and new in my electronic life, basically.

it's almost a little frightening.

but thanks to the neighbors' wireless internet, shuffle, and staying up too late...everything will be resolved, yes?
or at least we could pretend it is.

(blogging on a laptop makes me feel a little more artistic than i really have a right to, i think.
once i get word, that'll be the end of everything. i'll be a writer if i'm anything...ha
these headphones, too, are just adding to the ideas that i'm not cool enough to have
my life is such a movie
watch the camera pan out from the left side of my face, curving back and up...and out...there it goes)

anyways....i really oughta sleep. or play more. i can't decide. but...there's nothing productive for me to do...so who knows.



so I will write a poem for you
a poem on this scrap of paper
with a pen I had forgotten existed
until now (it barely has ink)

this poem, this attempt at words,
it's all my fault and just another thing.
no hidden meanings, not metaphors, just
thoughts meant for you, my friend.

and i like it when you hold my hand in my dreams.


it has been a long past couple of days.
i'm worn out.
i need to take a day off, and that's not happening anytime soon.
the train passing by outside has its horn going in perfect fourths.
i need to go do the things i need to do now.


broken down amazed.

i'm in a writing mood, in a crazy mood where i want my emotions splattered across a page in ink.

this blog in newspaper is about the best i can do right now.

so i'm confused.
i don't know where i'm going and i've lost where i've been.
and i'm dissatisfied with where i am.

and everyone hits these points in their life, i know. everyone goes through it, feels lost sometimes, feels dead sometimes, gets confused sometimes. so how do we all get through it?

i'm such a cyclical being. i've gotten into this loop of getting really depressed, purging out all my emotion, becoming extremely raw and apathetic, and rebuilding whatever happiness and relationships are left over. and this time was the biggest purge, but most of the time things get gradually larger, right? and the recovery is taking longer, harder to get through. but doesn't everyone go through things like this? it seems like this constant rebirth into what you've always been is such a human, universal experience. most people i talk to have had similar experiences, similar emotion. so why don't we just all pile ourselves together and reassure each other? but we don't! we're so held back, so...human.

not knowing where i'm going is the scariest thing. i am so indecisive, so afraid of actually taking that next step. everything i want cannot be centered in the same place, which sucks, but that's how life goes and that's good, then. i need reality.

i also need stability, which is hard to grasp right now. my family is confusing, my friends are drifting away, and here i am, an island. but i'm not really. no, not really...

hm. this post sucked.


we are out of maps, sorry.

he wasn’t quite sure where he was walking and i could tell as he floundered about the street, i was tempted to help him myself but i didn’t know exactly where i was going either so i figured i could not do much to guide him along if i was not from around here either but in the end, who really is from around here? because nobody really knows where they are going (to end up) and we are all just lost people helping other lost people in the end.

(is this poetry?
i've been playing with words lately
and i'm not quite sure.)