fresh off an intensive four day studio session that resulted in my expectations being shot through the sky in vibrant colors. i was afraid to see them in fear of them not living up to my hopes. yet, here they are in my ears, filling my head with confetti.
it feels wrong to be so excited about something that’s ending. while i’m also excited about the new opportunities that come along with a breakup, it’s like falling in love with what’s ending all over again. you know that stage–when things feel so good that it’s almost like you’re foolish to be ending it? i suppose that if our music were a waning lover, this would be the confusing on again/off again/farewell sex stage.
i know that it’s healthier to end it this way, though–on the best of terms. it’s time to cut loose and let each other grow in the ways that we need to grow. i have no doubt that we’ll all find ourselves in places that better suit our individuality. and i’m thankful for what these challenges have done.
it’s music that i need, just like it’s love that i need. i don’t need a specific band or a specific person. what i need is to feel real and intimate with what i tie myself to, regardless of what it means in terms of beginnings and ends. and i want that for everyone.
there was a time when i danced by myself in a candlelit room
because i felt it–what it was to be true and complete,
unafraid of everything i wanted to be,
unashamed of anything i already was.
and there’s something so perfect and real you can’t keep
when you’re taken by another. you want
to expand and adjust, to see the world through their eyes,
yourself in theirs and them inside you.
it’s a beautiful thing to sit in the stigma as life
blossoms out all around you. you feel like
you’ve waited an eternity for that moment when
everything’s vivid and aching with color.
from afar, it looks simple–just a natural scheme.
and you hover on borders to maintain the nice view.
but as time pulls you into the complex scientifics
it loses its romantic glow.
and the moon is mysterious and beautiful before understood.
and the smell of fresh grass is so uncomplicated.
and the breath of new love is as pure as post-rain.
and the microscope shows what is hidden below.
so must continue the balancing act of the elephant
on the tightrope. and so must continue
the feeble mathematicians in your head
and your heart with their abacus slide.
because nothing ever gathers to one side completely
without toppling over. so we balance wooden blocks
with our hands to kill time as we wait for our hearts
to catch up with our minds.
but just let me dance in my candlelit room when i need to
remember how it felt to be free. let me spin open armed
with my head to the ceiling, in a dizzy delight,
‘fore i crash to the floor.
since my new music project is excitedly underway, all songs that may be used in the new band will be privatized. i’ll bring them back when they can be compared to the real recordings in all their glory.
i am busier than ever and more inspired than ever. there’s a flame dancing madly in a globe made of glass, spinning wildly in the center of my chest. ‘you’re alive,’ it tells me. ‘go do something with that.’ so i shall.
if i can get through the next 36 days, it damn well better be on top. i want streams of color, flashing lights–and that flame in the globe to sit low in my belly, urging me to give everything i’ve got because it promises to regenerate the energy for me once again when i’m done. and when i’m done, i want to lay in a bath of iridescent bubbles eating chocolate covered berries and drinking champagne.
the next day, i’ll start again. you can’t stop and drop off. so as one decrescends, the next one crescends. and i believe it’ll soar higher than the last. good thing i’ve always wanted to fly.
there are people in life who are able to really give to others, asking for nothing in return. these are the true lovers in life. they have x-ray vision and can see through to the soul. they instinctively like to make people feel good. they are sharers and have little-to-no envy. they believe in themselves and therefore are able to believe in others. when in the limelight, they shine–and then pull you in with them. they are the authentic truth and they live it and strive to help you to live your own, without judgment. a rare breed, but they’re out here amongst us, giving us more than they could ever really know.
beauty makes people do ugly things. it’s a prime reason why people are unfaithful and why people get cut up and molded. people are mean to those who lack it and kinder to those who have it. we’re envious and/or obsessive of those who fit the ideal. beauty is a weapon.
it also recently occurred to me that my great dissatisfaction with how i look might be directly related to my abandonment. although i rationally understand it’s untruth, there’s been a subconscious feeling, tucked away. “maybe if i was a prettier baby, i’d have been kept.”
everyone’s so beset on telling parents how good looking their children are. there’s a sense of pride over one’s child’s appearance. i even do it to my pets, constantly blathering about how beautiful, handsome, adorable, pretty, and cute they are. and, why do i do that? because i was raised in a society that places the importance of beauty so high that we instinctively see it as a top consideration. it’s almost rude not to compliment a child’s looks upon introduction.
we live in a world where beauty has a right to love and all of life’s finest. in many ways, beauty equals love. so many women are afraid to age simply because it will mean they’ll have less of a chance to find or keep love. and although i see how wrong this is, i can’t say that i blame them.
when the storm is ramped inside my heart i am thrown by the power of its fury. momentum builds and it’s strength can knock me on my ass, unsure of who or where i am. it’s like running on a wooden deck, stretched out over the ocean, cracking and falling apart beneath me. anxiety and fear collide and death starts to look and feel a lot more like safety.
but it’s all in illusion–a temporary illusion. it’s a fight to regain my center strength, to breathe and let my true self kick in and come to the motherfucking rescue. in that moment, when i’m teetering on the verge of hope and failure, i wait restlessly for her to show. i wonder if she forgot about me just as i had given up on her. and when i feel her presence nearing, it’s like being brought back to life in slow motion.
i spent the weekend doing things out of the ordinary–some of which i’d been meaning to do and others that i wouldn’t have done if it weren’t for the motivation of others. and i was given a huge gift that nearly brought me to tears to feel that people believe in my music that much at this vulnerably inspiring phase that i’m vibrating in. it’s like i’m born again into new skin and i feel so alive–more alive than i’ve been in some time.
my therapy ran a little over this morning. there was much to discuss since last week. i’ve been anxious and feeling abandoned, frustrated, and like the weird shaped peg that doesn’t belong anywhere. it was a good day to have time scheduled with the one person who has to try to understand me.
heading out, there was a beautiful girl sitting where i had been an hour before. she had long, curly hair and looked surprised to see me. and i thought to myself, “what the hell problems could she possibly have?” it was bitter and unfair, of course, but i couldn’t help feeling the instinctual thought of how the beautiful people have a leg up on the rest of us in life. (that’s me trying to be p(h)unny.)
and so today my self-imposed homework is to write a song about that.
we travel in separate vehicles alongside one another
this stretch of the road. dancing around and in between
all the rest, we catch up and we fall behind.
with one foot on the gas and one hand on the wheel
we move forward without destination. and it’s
freedom that keeps us isolated, eyes on what’s
just up ahead and a glimpse of where we’ve just been.
and, is this what it has come to–
sitting under umbrellas shielded from the sun?
do we pitch a few tents to sleep under the stars
that we squint to make out through the mesh moon dome?
do we wear rubber condoms because we can’t trust the pasts of our partners
or the pasts of their partners’ pasts?
do we cleanse our own bodies from the good bacteria
just in case we may have come into contact with the bad?
must we completely strip ourselves of vulnerability
because it might be just too painful to feel?
should we numb all our senses, then, on the off chance
that something might happen to take us for a spin?
i’m so tired of living in fractions,
fearful of the sum of what ‘they’ might not know.
i’m angry at our ancestors who went and fucked it all up
in their quest to be careless and free.
i don’t want to live in a present day world
where it’s wrong to take risks for the sake of the whole.
and i don’t want a future that’s armored and armed
nor a past that’s naive to the harm we have done.
i am burnt from this living of life at half mast
just because i am grateful that it is not worse.
and i want to be able to expect more from everyone
rather than accept it’s the best they can do.
oh, you regal fluffs of gracefulness,
so mystical and aloof. you hold your
tails so high and dignified, sometimes
it’s hard to see the truth–
the calculations in your eyes,
the precision in your dance,
the desire to direct your personnel,
the lack of giving them the chance.
perhaps a partner’s what you hunt
to shimmy and step side to side?
perhaps you’re not hungry at all?
anorexia, maybe, you hide?
beneath that splendid, tidy mane,
behind that faultless squeak,
there lurks a secret, complicated mind
that begs to be crushed by human feet.
this is everything i want to be, right here.
this is nowhere near where it ends.
the motion will shift my body and life.
let it take me and shape me however it bends.
i am here in this moment, breathing it in,
as it flows through my veins like a heroin dream.
i am there–in the distance, ahead and behind–
moving in shadows everywhere in between.
and this has to be just as good as it gets–
not because of its voice but the way that it sings.
you can’t take a moment and repaint its glow
but you can bask in the color it brings.
for a mere instant, that, then i was,
yet in just another, then, i shall be.
life is just traces of time in stop motion
trailing behind as you learn to be free.