MADE IT MONDAY: 1/10/11

Keeping a daily blog is harder than I had anticipated. While I have several art and music projects I am working on, I didn't actually complete anything this week, so I don't have much to show for my "Made it" Monday post.

I do have this recording from my iPhone, from a couple months ago. I wrote some lyrics, and came up with a basic song structure, and tested it out real quick. That is what this recording is from. It's nothing special, but I did make it.

What is it about? It's about being upset, and using someone or something to help deal with it, and trying to find different methods of coping, ultimately finding out there is no quick fix. "A story is just a ghost until it's wrote" means: just because you found the cure, doesn't mean you're cured. You have to do the work. I'm not sure if that makes any sense, but it does to me, or at least it did. 

I don't know, writing songs is weird. You think it's about something when you're writing it, then you realize it's about something else. A few weeks later it's not about anything. Way down the line you realize it is in fact about something. It's like I wrote myself a letter, that I can only understand in the future. It's pretty sci-fi.

 

I realize it's hard to understand the lyrics, so here they are (more or less):

"Scanning screens, consuming things that ought not to be seen
Catacombs of coincidences, sit behind our neighbors’ fences
Able-bodied men and women, plow the earth to avoid famine
While freemason families sit back and think up similes.

I stumble down to slumber town and wait there for you
I never had a pleasant thought, if not involving you
And you and you and you and you and all I ever say is you
If I am here and you are there then every road leads straight to you.

It’s great and greatly overrated, the news has be exasperated,
I've read pages, and pages, and pages of
A sleepy scandal from the south, from a mindless dirty mouth it
Enters endoscopically, bounces left to right within me.

I stumble down to slumber town and pretend I’m with you
I never had a pleasant dream that didn’t involve you
And you and you and you and you and all I ever do is for you
If I am here and you are there, why can’t I be anywhere with you, and you and you and you.

Cynically sitting down amidst my many mopes
Digitally discovering different ways to cope
Generally, they are only different forms of hope
But hope is not an antidote, a story’s just a ghost until it’s wrote."

 

Now... go make something, you little brats! 

XOXO

PS: I'm sure I will regret posting this in T-minus 30 seconds.