secret sisterhood.

in my dreams last night, i was in a paper house in the rain; i also got inducted into a society in which i had to share secrets and learn secrets and do a secret handshake.

i wish that dreams had playback once we were awake.


never-ending sunday.

it is hard to make friends here, and easy to write letters.

maybe things would feel easier if i had another job, but that requires me doing even more job searching, and i'm sick of that. really. and having time to myself is nice (although i'm not quite sure what to do with this much of it.)

creativity is becoming this strange creature lately that i can barely see. songs are not rolling out of me, but are in this cycle of trickle, trickle, pour; trickle, trickle, pour. nothing's gushing. i don't even feel like writing poetry. i don't even feel like singing sometimes.

i think it's time to take things in halves. it's easier to handle that way.


the funny guy.

i want this to be dialogue in a sitcom:
"my weight loss goal? well, um, i've never told anyone this, but i'd always hoped that at least one person in the world would automatically picture me when they heard the first verse of 'faith' by george michael."


je me souviens.

hopefully i will work my way out of this writer's block.
chords are just hard, right now, which is weird, but maybe good. i worked too hard to be complicated, to be difficult and intelligent. i wanted to be interesting and smart, but interesting doesn't have to be a mess of difficult patterns. interesting is often simple and elegant. (it's strange, because that's the kind of art i really enjoy, yet rarely produce.)

i am going to write songs as other people.
i am going to pretend to be other people and let them write my songs through me.

first - an old woman.
next - who knows.

je me souviens
la guerre, la guerre
l'amour, l'amour
la guerre d'amour
(oh, love's a war.)



i had a dream last night that the world ended, and i wasn't able to gather the people i loved together in time.
right now, i just want to get everyone i love and hug them, and hug them, and hug them.

(my dreams are getting stranger and, generally, sadder and more violent. i dislike this.)