8/17/11

Put your trust in simple acts.
Believe in What You Want
-Jimmy Eat World, Clarity

I'm not sure how productive I was today. I'm not sure it matters. I did a lot, sure. But what was any of it for? Was it for good? Did I enjoy it? I don't know the answers to these questions. But, you needn't do so.

8/14/11

The wheels are heating up to a bend
Gasoline is leaking out like sin
It's been weld together with my dirty hands
Dressed and ready for the party to begin
I am ready to wait until it begins

I'm curving as I cannonball ahead
Oh I know I can't go on like that
So I'll go straight to bed
and then onto the next

I was young when I grew thorns
Got ripped up from the ground

And I have burned my body so thin

I am ready to wait until it begins
I am ready to wait until it begins
I am ready to wait until it begins
I am ready to wait until it begins

~Cannonball
Cassino, Kingprince

It almost scares me how gorgeous this song is. Like, how does a group of people decide to make something so dead-on?

8/12/11

This song does good things for the world. I've found that there's a lot of Explosions In The Sky-esque bands (who may or may not have come before them, I have no idea) that all sound EXACTLY THE SAME, like to the point where I hear it on Pandora and say, oh this must be EITS, and I am wrong.

This on the other hand, has it's own flavor. And it is good.

8/8/11

This habit of waking up early, listening to music and writing, it's very beneficial. Why don't we get the hard part of the day over with first?

8/8/11

This summer is defined by Cold Roses, and driving down Route 96 to avoid the thruway, and wishing the hills weren't cluttered with car dealerships. This summer is about staying put when you want to run, run, run away.

This summer is decorated with moments of looking where I shouldn't, and remaining unable to keep my hands to myself. This summer is not for improvement, this summer is not for self-empowerment, it is for the best and worst of me, celebrating each other for the first time.

I haven't given up pen chewing, or nail-biting, or car-singing to no one. Or justifying my more vocal human feelings with the words of others when mine just won't do.

I wanna be the bluebird singing
Singing to the roses in her yard
Roses in her yard her father grew for her
It's been raining like Tennessee honey
So long I got too heavy to fly
Ain't no bluebird ever gets too heavy to sing

Lie to me
Sing me a song
Sing me a song until the morning comes
And if the morning don't come, will you lie to me
Will you take me to your bed
Will you lay me down
Ti'l I'm heavy like the rocks in the riverbed
That my savior made
~Magnolia Mountain,
Ryan Adams and the Cardinals, Cold Roses