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| Life with a practical mind
in 7 minutes
6 minutes
Hurry off, you've got priorities.
Life with a practical mind
wasting time.
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| we drive these secret rural roads
trying to feel alive
there's something in our house's air
the doesn't let you fill your lungs up right
I read my science articles,
and you sit down to write
we grasp and grope and strain our eyes
in hopes that we might see some light
what did we forget?
when did everything get so old?
I'm convinced it's just devil lies
distracting us from everything we know
you ask a stranger in the pharmacy
what we should do tonight
even if our minds are inadequate
this person may have some valuable insight
but then something strikes a chord
sounds like "i know what life is made of"
every single thing that the world has made you feel
every synapse radiates because of love.
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| parked like the cars in the street
the fleet
mouth is a mockingbird's beak
repeats, repeats
not in the group does not mean
unique
planted, i'm golden Marguerite
dead meat
why do i give a damn
where things come from?
i'll borrow and steal
i'm not the only one
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| my dad looks to israel
my mom to jesus christ
my sister speaks in japanese
and i can't do this right
i feel really strange
i feel really bad
my writing's useless, poorly written,
trying too hard.
weird. weird. weird is all i am.
i'm just normal.
nothing flowing through my brain
everything that i have trained myself to feel and know
is making me want some sedatives
weird
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| The current time is 2:36 am. I feel like Writing in here may help me in some fashion to break out of this vice grip that is clinging to my mind. My favorite movie has a part where they talk about how throughout history, there hasn't really been a rising value concerning the greatest minds.from your socrateses to your einsteins, there aren't any higher levels of awareness, or intelligence, or whatever being reached as time passes. I guess this leads me to believe that no matter what technological or social advances we make, were kind of fixed psychologically. i don't really know what i'm talking about. i'm just a kid. what am i doing thinking about this shit?
I'd really like to write music and just be able to enjoy it. I think i just wish everything came naturally. sure some things do, but most things don't. I really wonder if the flaming lips had much trouble at all writing yoshimi, or if maybe bukowski struggled to find the right words when he wrote raw with love. i wonder how much editing hemingway did. i wonder how many half finished poems walt whitman never showed anyone. were the great writers ashamed of their work at any time? where does their natural rhythm come from? is it accepting a certain pattern as a personal style? i guess i have trouble doing that because repetition makes me feel lazy. or is it that familiarity breeds contempt? i don't want to be that way. If something is good, i want to just be able to accept that, and not try to pick it apart, even if i'm trying to improve.
idk, maybe i'll find a rhythm at some point. my friend luke is doing pretty well and he only knows like 4 or 5 chords. his style is based on good melodies over those 5 chords and two different rhythms. he has it so simplified, its ridiculous.
maybe i don't really know what i like yet. i'm still growing up. my tastes haven't permanently settled. i find myself disliking old favorites regularly. i hope this stops soon. i feel foolish whenever my mind changes like this. i do feel like i have somewhat of a better grasp on what truly moves me, but it still isn't consistant. i don't always like the showy, rebellious, trendy aesthetic of the stones. sometimes i find simon and garfunkel not engaging enough. a lot of times when i'm really listening i find musical composition to be "predictable" and accordingly , not tasteful. i don't understand that. why do i need to be surprised? why can't i just like what something sounds like, even if its been used a million times before? it's still good isn't it?
I feel a little jaded. i still believe in art. i still feel like my soul jumps out of my body sometimes. i still believe that life can be beautiful. i'm just having a little trouble seeing it at the moment. it's supremely frustrating. sorry for all the short, choppy sentences. i know this was probably difficult to read.
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