The thing about writing about your birthday is just that...it's your birthday and while your coming of age means a lot to you, it's something personal and people would more likely classify it under the "don't really give a shit" drawer than on the "I really care about that!" pile. But anyway...
It is my twentieth and yeah there is a big difference between being nineteen and trying to get into a bar and being twenty and trying to get somewhere in life. I guess I could have been a lot more prepared for the latter if it weren't for all those nights that I forsook studying in order to learn how to play some John Mayer song on the guitar. But you know what they say...a B is temporary but impressing girls with "Daughters" at some lame party where douches play the acoustic guitar to impress...that's forever. (They actually don't say that)
Given all the opportunities and encouragement that my parents have given me, the advice my brother has bestowed upon me, the chances to do well that college has offered me...I can honestly say that I've underachieved pretty amazingly. I don't have to worry about being able to afford to go to college or travel somewhere in order to do research in a lab yet I've pretty much failed in taking advantages of any of those things.
But you know, that's why I wake up and put my two legs through my pant legs every morning--because this isn't the end and I guess it's time to put the last twenty years of dicking around behind me. And if I wake up and don't put my legs through pant legs then either that day doesn't count as a day where I feel like doing anything productive or I will have turned into a girl and decided to wear a skirt or something. Hope I have less days like the former and absolutely zero days of the latter.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Two Songs
Here are two songs. By their titles, one is pretty obvious of what it is about and the other one is just the opposite. Both have this weird shoe-gaze, beautiful cacophony quality to them though.
If I were to have one supremely impractical but genuinely novel super power, it would be the ability to emit music. Not in the way singers use their voices or someone who plays an instrument performs though. Whether from my head, torso, or just a general ambiance of sound emanating from my body, I want to be able to project music in a way so that everyone in the room I were in would hear it with a perfect volume and not be disturbed by it, but just recognize its presence. Like a boom box I guess. But I would do it subconsciously, each song changing to the fluctuations of my emotions.
It's a fear, it is near. The shape becomes ever clear.
It bears teeth extra sharp, that'll cut you in the heart.
It attacks really quick, try to fight it with a stick.
It's not use, give it up, this is life and this is love.
If I were to have one supremely impractical but genuinely novel super power, it would be the ability to emit music. Not in the way singers use their voices or someone who plays an instrument performs though. Whether from my head, torso, or just a general ambiance of sound emanating from my body, I want to be able to project music in a way so that everyone in the room I were in would hear it with a perfect volume and not be disturbed by it, but just recognize its presence. Like a boom box I guess. But I would do it subconsciously, each song changing to the fluctuations of my emotions.
It's a fear, it is near. The shape becomes ever clear.
It bears teeth extra sharp, that'll cut you in the heart.
It attacks really quick, try to fight it with a stick.
It's not use, give it up, this is life and this is love.
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