Fubar

I dont even know where to being with this one.

***

I guess from here

***

Typing away agani noticing the silence around me. its sort of sickening. But its a nice distraction from thoughts.
I want to type so much but right now I am of course finding the dificulty to do so. How does one express the thoughts racing through their head sat anygiven time. Ones that never seem to leave for a momentary state of peace and distraction.
Well drugs and alcohol sure do help in that equation. But those are not so good of alternatives to follow I suppose.

***

Its cold and rainy outside. Yet in spite of this seemingly dreary weather I find a sense of comfort. As if the world itself is responding in some sort of twisted empathy that brings relief through long walks down narrow streets.
Im sick of feeling this way.

***

I was playing a set in one of the practice rooms just moments before posting this. and halfway through one of the new ones, I found myself beginning to break down, putting every emotion into the pitches and trying to tell the world secrets through music I find it unnecessary to state by mouth. Even if anyone listened what would I say?
"by the way you dont know me but Im pretty much f.u.b.a.r at the moment."
The world doesnt have time for such bitching. It passes these moods off as an emo phase that will reconcile itself in given time.
"It will all be ok"
but how ok?
ok to our expectations for ourselves or ok to how the world wishes us to be?

***

I find myself recently haunted by these thoughts. Wishing things were somehow different. and in that moment of cynicism I fonud myself alone...wishing that someone would come bursting through the door behind me to ask what was wrong. wishing for someone to put their arms around me and just fucking hold me for one second, possibly wishing that there was just someone there to prove every doubt of myself wrong.
but noone came and I found myself alone. and here I sit typing as others walk to and fro through the halls beside me barely noticing Im here and not knowing a thing.
and at that second I realized that that person Ive always been expecting. the one to prove me wrong. isnt coming.
and that the only one that is going to save me from myself is myself.

***

I cant really stand it to be honest when someone tells me the opposite of what I hold true of me. It usually just turns into a heated debate of who is right or wrong, whether that arguement be internal or external depends on the subject matter. But ive never been looking for anyone to tell me that the way I think about myself is wrong. I came to the realization today that what Ive always wanted was for someone to prove me wrong. To let me see what Im blind to of myself. To let me open up to them and realize what I was missing by going day to day pretending that things are fine. when in fact I havent been truely happy in months.

***

and that is where a problem lies. I dont open up to others anymore. I dont let them see what is inside. I let out hints but I never reveal what is underneath. It leaves me exposed and I always have gotten hurt from someone because of it.

***

its just something I need to figure out on my own I suppose.

Im tired of typing. end post

going on my last post about gender roles-

guy from ky wes- you are a fucking idiot. Shame on you and shame on you too ms for not speaking up.
and I qoute-
asshole #1 -"(something or other. mumble. mumble word vomit) after she got involved the program went down"
Asshole #2- "Well if you put a woman in charge thats usually what happens"
woman taking this shit- "(silence)"
Queer typing on computer (that would be I)- *turns around with a what the fuck? face on* "Are you fucking serious?...what the hell...." *calls man dumbass... and continues to get enfuriated...*


what the fuck asshole.
Expect gender roles post in a short coming... I have some fish to fry with this one.

mer

bastards

Once again I find myself at a university in which I am not enrolled, lolling around on computers meant for students typing idiotically away. Original intention was to rehearse and practice.
But the assholes here have moved the piano I usually practice with. Kind of insulting. but then again people must watch their tv, correct?
Davy just got done dropping me off. I wish that I would have ran madly out of th ebuildling, flagging him down like a mad man for a ride home. it looks like it is going to storm and I am around a 15 minute walk away from home. Yet then again it wouldnt be the first time. so what is the difference. Besides the rain will help clear my head.
Still trying to figure out ways to get a venue at the cafe here. There are always flyers up for performers (jazz sax and lounge singers)everywhere. It still eludes me to how they attain these. Secretely envious.
Finished the two songs yesterday...for piano anyway. Still working on string and percussion for it. Still more tweaking involved.
Im rather glad to be here though none the less.
and the weather wont be that bad coming home. kind of fitting to mood. Chaotic uncertain. whatever...

***

In my state of self induced indignation towards my outwards appearance in sptie of what anyone says otherwise, I have recently been contemplating my civil war raged on shallow reasoning.
I am who I am and my body fits accordingly. Im a fucking skinny ass queer and maybe someday someone will be able to see beauty in that. Maybe not. maybe maybe I suppose. maybe nothing.
whatever.


***

Speaking of being queer there is a rant that I wish to post in the upcoming days. the noticeable assignment of prevelant gender roles in our society that goes unnoticed recently has unsettled me. I do believe I will turn into a bitch. So Im excited.
Look for excerpts from my gay and lesbian literature class in this as well. might be redicuously long. maybe short. we'll see.

***

Im still tempted... they have moved the piano into this large auditorium set up for a presentation. Im curious to see how those inside would react if I just went in, sat down and went through a couple of numbers. Maybe I'll shit first from anticipation. maybe not.
Speakin gof music I am rather pissed at murray state university at the moment. Im wishing to come back next semester with a double major in piano and nursing but i am finding it hard to do so.
Apparently in order to take piano classes, I have to already have had years of lessons.
bullshit.
I can play just fine. Amanda taught herself and she is fucking famous. so what the hell why cant I follow this and be given a fucking chance?
I find it strange to think that so many requirments are given to just do what you wish to. Its sad really.
A intellectual child can wish and aspire to be a doctor all they wish. but if they come from a porr family background then they are not permitted to follow this no matter how qaulified they may be.
(I used to be pre-med. way fucking expensive. not regretting that though. I couldnt have done with the life and death decision and my grades werent up to par. oops...)
So I know that even with scholarships and loans it still may not be possible for that child to do what it is s/he may be qaulified for.
I may have taught myself but I can play just as well. Just because I couldnt afford lessons as a child does not mean that I shouldnt be able to take these classes. I know what I am donig just the same.
so shame on you and "boo that man..."

Amanda Palmer- you remain one of my biggest inspirations to this day.

This sort of thing happens all of the time

I was running through all poetry today and I noticed a line that Tweak had put on her post.
"This sort of thing happens all the time"
Its more than likely just the remnants of my last night. Mostly because I took something from a piece that she had just wrote when bored. So kudos to Brittany for being able to goof off and still be able to do that with me.
<3 your writing.

***

I should be in bed right now. Im long over due.
Instead, I'm of course at Ky wes. writing more music and cleaning other pieces that have long needed it.
Re-writing, re-organizing, re-finishing and bringing things anew...avoiding issues. Putting them to music when I should be dealing with them. Yet maybe this is just my way of dealing with it. A way to let myself vent.
Actually that does seem to make sense.
When everything was happening with John, I wrote dilemma. when I was tripping I wrote dramatic. and of course the plethura of songs that came about this summer. Thank you trey for the seven songs. You were my personal muse this past semester.

***

I still dont necessarily understand why I continue to write... or god to even tell others about new songs when they are written.
I hate thinking like that. My hands would probably shatter if it werent for it. yet everyday I find myself in a crowded room of bustling people going to and fro passing by, seemingly not hearing one note. always busy. rushing everywhere. It would be nice to have someone sit and listen. This is not to say of course a lack of attention is what upsets me. that would be the easy answer sure. but once again I find myself puttin gfun back into dysfunctional and looking for deeper meaning in every fucking thing.
I suppose that I could play forever without one voice of audience. Ive realized that the more I serve people, the more I am starting to grow unfond of them. So it comes as no suprise that I dont necessarily give a fuck if they like it or not. People can be too bitchy anyway.
besides, as long as the song says what I wish my heart could, than I am satisfied. but it would be nice to not be chased off by those who would rather sit mindlessly in front of a T.V. I think that may be the reason why it bothers me sometimes. so much emotion jsut wanting to spring out and bitch slap people with a how do you fucking do? no violence of course but rather a big "well here you go, you wanted to know." but Ive had trouble doing so recently. I guess Im not to trusting of people to let them know. So music does so for me.
When people ignore it just makes me wonder whether or not I should put that much of myself into it. That may just be my strange brain unravling things again however.

***

Moving on

***

Things have been hectic lately. Always busy and rushed. I hate that sense of chaos.
Well I dont necessarily hate it. Its like everyday is a different adventure, with new stories to tell friends, new things to learn. I suppose it's a love/hate relationship.
regardless. I have been here for the past two hours playing and writing. Im going to be pissed if I forget it all again.
Ya thats right
again

***

I had drank around a half bottle of wine and had gotten a lil looped. So naturally I picked up the keyboard. I started pecking away, jaw half dropped from intoxication and fingers searching randomly. ad then I came across a chord progression I loved. It compeletely felt my heart at the time as I was having difficulties with things going on in personal affairs.
The odds right? Fucked up, sleep deprived, and here I am pecking away widly at this thing.
then to my suprise a song popped out. Complete with 2 verses a chorus, 2 bridges and a transition into "Backwards Rain".
Being very proud of myself at this point and feeling especially celebratory, I finished the rest of my san-gria, and played on madly until I felt the need to pass out.

I had forgotten everything when I woke the next morning. the only thing left was a bridge, which I had to work with for about two weeks to get another song out of it. I still am not sure of whether or not it is the same as the one I had played that night, but regardless. It's something at least...

***


and I guess the latter could be said for what two were just written, for now. Its something. mmm. cigarette break and then online addictions.

***

I wish this headache would go away. arg. Last night was definately headache-y hangover worthy though.
Because after a night of tequila, everclear, whiskey and gin, a hangover at least tells me that I dont drink as much as I thought I did and that alcoholism has not kicked in.

***

=(
boo headache

***

These fucking computers suck. All I want to do is watch "Unravel" by bjork and the video is taking forever to load. I think the computer may commit suicide in its efforts to download the video program...
*cut to me pleading the screen not to jump over the two foot ledge of a desk.

***
haha! success...
*joy*
and now the video takes forever to load.
wow impatient anyone?
I should be greatful Im not getting kicked out of here for not being a student.
...load faster...
mer...