living.

squeek
her voice squeeks
it's like a dagger
but it doesnt hurt
it's too quick
she's incredibly quick
with her words

i never thought about
it.

about poems
and music
and how they are the same

squeek
the oil
the oil is necessary

squeek
with a sharp wit
bit by bit

i never thought about it
i never knew it was there.
squeek.

i should have.
because one day
it hit me. it hit me like a dagger.
sharp.
squeek.

mouse.
in a house
it shouldn't be a surprise.
but it is.

squeek.

civil wars

ever since i graduated finding music has been difficult. ive turned into an fm radio listener. ive listened to all the top tracks on spotify and ive hoped that something strikes me. strikes me in the way that ryan adams' music first did as a freshman at iowa. that lame love of music that attracts youths to hang out inside during their high school years. listening over and over to the tracks that really just fucking "get me."

and, im happy to report back.

the civil wars' barton hollow just fucking "gets me." and it feels so good.

give a listen to "poison and wine" if you want to hear what works.

Five

Things. I. Love.

1. bicycle rides when it's 65 and sunny
2. gelato
3. unexpected hangouts
4. following through
5. belonging

i forgot how much i love writing these short lists. today i went through some old emails from a good friend of mine, and finally downloaded all the music i've been waiting to listen to from said emails. how much do i love paul asjes' weekly monday music emails? hint, it'll be in my next five things.

Wish You Were Here.

I've never been big into classic rock. I can safely say that I refrain from listening to it almost always. But, tonight, on my drive home from rehearsal I flipped on the ole FM, and tuned into 93.1 XRT, and Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" was playing. I always associated bands like Pink Floyd, The Grateful Dead, and Led Zeppelin with a certain sort of person. The kids in high school who listened to those bands (and a slew of others, ranging from MOE to Dave Matthews Band) were all exactly the same — wannabees in tie-dye t-shirts, frayed jeans or baggy khakis, and the desire to live out That 70s Show in 2000. I imagined their fathers, stuck in jobs they disliked — but too good to leave because of the money and the need to support a family on the North Shore — having a pivotal moment of man-to-man-ness where father bends down on one knee with his son beside him, blows dust off a record, and then proceeds to play it, trying to gain some semblance of the man he hoped he'd be.

I typecast this crowd like nobodies business. I'm guessing now my hippy-slacker schoolmates all work in insurance or banking, and of course do karaoke every now and again, always picking from the same 5 songs, which inevitably include Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days."

For now though, I'll revel in the fact that this song is actually quite good. It's brutal honesty made me feel sad and human.



"Wish You Were Here"
So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skys from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

And did they get you to trade
Your heros for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here

diggin and tearin.

"And we can do the zarathustra
We can do the broken fist
We can tear down all the borders
Or abbreviate the list
And when finally the finish line
Emerges from the mist we'll sound
A soft alarm"

-clap your hands say yeah

Listen to Me

scratch that. real guilty pleasures. not even guilty.

guilty pleasure.

katy perry. "You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong"

"Cartoon Music For Superheroes." -Albert Hammond, Jr.

"'Goodnight,' I said to you, 'Goodnight'
Dream of all the impossible

And when wake you'll see
That all these dreams aren't fake
They're real
Not impossible

Believe you'll be alright
Sad things you keep inside
So go, tell me whats it's like
Tell me what you like about when you dream"

tune in

sometimes a good instrumental is all i need.

-albert hammond, jr. "spooky couch"

Loveliness from Iron & Wine

Fever Dream
"Some days, like rain on the doorstep
She’ll cover me
With grace in all she offers
Sometimes I'd like just to ask her
What honest words
She can’t afford to say, like

I want your flowers like babies want God’s love
Or maybe as sure as tomorrow will come"

Your Hand in Mind, Explosions in the Sky

Music without lyrics does something to me. It's almost like reading a book — where you can imagine the characters, the feelings, the emotions, what things look like — while with music, you're imaging the places this song has come from, what it meant to the musician, and what it means to say.

Some music begs for lyrics, requires them to give the piece worth, but not here.

Music & Things.

Things to Work On:
1. Saying what I mean.
2. Sorting out all my books.
3. Regularly reviewing how I spend my time.
4. Organizing my house, i.e. getting a table and another couch/chair.
5. Figuring out finances and budgeting.
6. Listening to more music.
7. Making a point to spend time with my mom.
8. Reading the rest of Atlas Shrugged.
9. Finishing up and starting new sketches for WADA.
10. Being less sarcastic and more genuine.
11. My vocabulary.
12. Memorizing my lines.

"I am covered in skin  
No one gets to come in
Pull me out from inside
I am folded, and unfolded, and unfolding. I am." -Colorblind, Counting Crows.

"You can hold her hand
And show her how you cry
Explain to her your weakness
So she understands
And then roll over and die" -Coconut Skins, Damien Rice.

"Cos a sip
A sip
Or a spoonful won't do
Won't do nothing for you
Except mess you up" -Poison Cup, M.Ward.

"And for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself
Phew, for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself" -Karma Police, Radiohead.

"Well that is that and this is this.
Will you tell me what you saw and I'll tell you what you missed,
when the ocean met the sky." -Ocean Breaths Salty, Modest Mouse. 

"She's a jar
With a heavy lid
My pop quiz kid
A sleepy kisser
A pretty war
With feelings hid
You know she begs me not to miss her." -She's a Jar, Wilco.

Enjoy the links to these songs.

what a beautiful song.

I've begun to relisten to music that meant a lot to me throughout college. One band in particular, The Appleseed Cast, is getting a lot of attention right now. I like that they're mostly instrumental, and even though this particular song "Hello Dearest Love" does have lyrics, it's still a favorite. And as of this moment, it's making my heart twinge with thoughts on those relationships of yesteryear.

So enjoy it.

welcome home
her eyes know
mistakes you've made
the plans you laid

your love, it means so much
a simple ring, your fingers touch
break away, break away
your smile faints, and light shines through
plan it truth, it is to soon to ignore

she's not here
standing clear
in front of you
it's just a dream

times up, she's gone away
you had your time, but it won't stay
no not this time, no not this time
soon enough, you'll kill them all
every chance to break your fall
your giving in, your giving in

but she's the one
bright as the sun
stops you there
right on the stairs
and falling back
when stars are black
stripes on fire, stripes on fire

hypocrisy

i both appreciate and dislike being called out on my shit. but. now that the laundry's out and drying, it might as well be admitted. i am a hypocrite. in related news, i do have a wide selection of music on my iTunes.

quote of the now: "what's with today, today?" -Lucas, Empire Records

happy september

this is my very favorite of months. throughout the year i am always looking forward to september. it's the perfect month. there's this thing that happens in september, and it can only be classified under unbelievable contentment.

so. in keeping with things i love, i give you this. matt wertz's "lonely tonight." it goes hand in hand with my last post regarding loneliness. i think september is perhaps the only month where the idea of walking around solo in the perfection of a crisp, smooth, lovely night thrills me.



"Lonely Tonight," Matt Wertz

6th and green is a warm place in November
When the air is cold and the leaves blow on the ground
And I don't think that I can even remember
Why it was that i came to this town

Because I just want to be lonely tonight
Just me and my maker in this cold moonlight

This is me on the eve of an ending
To what I've known's been constant for a year
And I'm so scared of this pain that I'll be sending
Sometimes I just want to run away in fear

Because I just want to be lonely tonight
Just me and my maker in this cold moonlight

No, I haven't heard your voice in two weeks now
And anticipation's been wearing me thin
And I just can't help but wonderin' baby if somehow
We could tear these pages out and begin again

Because I just want to be lonely tonight
Just me and my maker in this cold moonlight
I just want to be lonely tonight
With no one around to see the sight
Of me lying here

'Cause this is the hardest thing I've ever done before
I said this is the hardest thing I've ever done before
And I don't want to be lonely
But I won't be lonely tonight
Because my maker's holding me

"Who knew we'd never be younger than today?"

For the first time in a month I found myself with a spare 45 minutes and a mom on the line. God, I love her. I love that she's the one I go to for approval; I love that she has the ability to slice through my feelings like they're no big thing; I love that she can get me to admit all the things I'm stressed about, even as I know she'll throw in her unnecessary 25 cents; I love that this thought has been verbally expressed more than once: "Remember when I was in your womb?" I love her.

Periodically I'm struck by the concept of time shifting silently by. And it's almost unimaginable that some day I will look at my children and say, "You used to be literally part of me, friends." The moment I realize I'm 24 and today is literally the youngest I will ever be makes my heart race, not immediately because of stress, but because I have no idea why I am here, and I will just keep on going until I stop. And there's only so many moments left.

 

"Younger Than Today"
Ben Harper

You and I were looking at old pictures yesterday
Sitting in disbelief at how time slips away
Both at a loss for words to say, who knew we'd never be younger than today?

Foolishness protected us from the world outside
They could never come between us but we knew they'd try
We remembered living as if there were a way to forever be younger than today

Never looked at anything you didn't care to see
I was the one who wouldn't let you leave
Even though it was clear you couldn't stay
Had to try to be younger than today
Had to try to be younger than today

As we parted, you reminded me I'm alive
To remember when the stars danced just for you and I
May the shimmer of the summer always light your way and make you feel younger than today

Faith.

Over the years the notion of being content has constantly fucked with me. I'm not one to be, is what it comes down to. I always want more; and what's more is I've never known that to be a bad thing. There's something beautiful in the sort of desperation that makes you cling to your wants.  This song from Jars of Clay, "Faith Enough," speaks to that sense of desperation for me. I haven't listened to these guys in a while, but every time I do, there's something more to take away, and something more to keep me wondering. The concept of "just enough" has me heartbroken.



"Faith Enough"

The ice is thin enough for walkin'
The rope is worn enough to climb
My throat is dry enough for talkin'
The world is crumblin' but I know why
The world is crumblin' but I know why

The storm is wild enough for sailing
The bridge is weak enough to cross
This body frail enough for fighting
I'm home enough to know I'm lost
Home enough to know I'm lost

It's just enough to be strong
In the broken places, in the broken places
It's just enough to be strong
Should the world rely on faith tonight

The land unfit enough for planting
Barren enough to conceive
Poor enough to gain the treasure
Enough a cynic to believe
Enough a cynic to believe

It's just enough to be strong
In the broken places, in the broken places
It's just enough to be strong
Should the world rely on faith tonight

Confused enough to know direction
The sun eclipsed enough to shine
Be still enough to finally tremble
And see enough to know I'm blind
And see enough to know I'm blind

It's just enough to be strong
In the broken places, in the broken places
It's just enough to be strong
Should the world rely on faith tonight
Should the world rely on faith tonight

Bands. Aids.

I need to stop listening to sad music. If there's one thing that makes me feel terrible, it's a song that makes me feel too much. The Weepies are that band for me as of late. Sometimes it's Wilco. Other times it's anything instrumental. Most of the time I feel a little bit like I'm not myself. Like there's a show or front I put up, and I'm sure it's strikingly obvious at times. And I don't know if it will ever go away. Is it weird to ask, will all of life be like this? There's one thing I do love, and it's when I can just exist, not think, and just be. Yet even that can be an act, because I'm forcing myself to just quit thinking. Most of the time I'd like to take a deep breath and start over.



Antarctica, The Weepies

Left behind everything I knew
All the colors but bone-white and sky-blue
Hit the continent running
Engines were humming just to break through

Antarctica, my only living relative
Antarctica, I can't wait anymore

Under ice there's a world moving slow
Carnelian stars and the bars down below
Serve only vodka and gin
I try to stay drunk so nobody knows

Antarctica, my only living relative
Antarctica, I can't wait anymore
I can't wait anymore

And then there's morning
Each one feels like the first one
Ah, morning, so clean, so pure
Nothing so clear, now that I'm here

When I get back to the city
Everything's cluttered and pretty
I won't regret my return
I'll just remember the wind and the snow
And the howling so loud
That it alone drowns out the inside of me

Antarctica, my only living relative
Antarctica, I can't wait anymore
I can't wait anymore
I can't wait anymore

Why do I love The Weepies so much?

 

I watch the sun go down, I watch the sun go down
Then I wander around, then I wander around
It's here then it's gone
Love doesn't last too long

I didn't even have time to get it straight in my mind
To catch up from behind, to see that I was blind
And I wish I was wrong
But love doesn't last too long

All you lovers in the dark can forget what I said
'Cause it still goes on in my heart
And it still goes on in my head

Rivers to the sea, rivers to the sea
How it is right now is how it's always gonna be
It's here then it's gone
Love doesn't last too long

I watch the sun go down, I watch the sun go down
Then I wander around
Then I wander around
Then I wander around

"At Seventeen," from Janis Ian

I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired.
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth.
And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say come dance with me
and murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems
At seventeen.
A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
said, Pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve.
The rich relationed hometown queen
Married into what she needs
A guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly.
Remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
Indebentures of quality
And dubious integrity.
Their small town eyes will gape at you
in dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received
At seventeen.
To those of us who know the pain
Of valentines that never came,
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball.
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
And dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me.
We all play the game and when we dare
To cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say, come dance with me
and murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me
At seventeen