Also known as: “I guess I guess I guess”
25 August 2009, 9:55 pm
Filed under:
Dreams,
My Explanations,
Random Thoughts | Tags:
"heartbreaker",
"pretty woman",
...,
aerosmith,
after,
anxious,
attempt,
bed,
beginning,
belting,
black,
blasting,
breaktheglass,
busy,
care,
collaborate,
counts,
dad,
dark,
deadline,
didn't do anything,
difficult,
done,
driving force,
excuse,
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fingers,
forceful,
garage,
good night,
goodnight,
guess,
guitar hero,
happen,
healthier,
healthy,
helter skelter,
hoping,
instead,
itchy,
jamming,
john,
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keys,
like,
looming,
maybe,
me,
michelle,
middle of the night,
mitt,
music,
myself,
nag,
nag nag nag,
need,
nerves,
never know,
next,
night,
obviously,
oddly,
on my own,
on track,
opera,
peace,
plan,
planned,
plans,
playing,
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present,
projects,
real,
relief,
restless,
see you,
separate,
singing,
skitter,
sleep,
sleep-blogging,
sleepwalk,
something,
sometimes,
song,
subconscious,
swimming,
talk,
Tara,
tend,
text,
texting while sleeping,
thoughts,
tomorrow,
trundle,
unhealthy,
upstairs,
whatever,
will power,
willpower,
WritingHere I am again; crap.
I didn’t do anything I’d planned on doing. Instead I went down to find dad in the garage, and we “jammed” while Michelle and Tara were swimming. He’s so difficult to collaborate with sometimes, without John keeping him on track. “Can we take it from the beginning?” and he keeps playing. “Can we play a song I know?” and he keeps playing.
Whatever, though. I came back upstairs after the second attempt at “Pretty Woman” and jealously played Guitar Hero Aerosmith for a while.
And here I am now, fingers skittering anxiously across the black keys, hoping for some kind of relief or peace from the thoughts and energy and nerves that keep nagging me.
Tomorrow, I’m not going to care. I guess Mitt can make all the excuses she likes about me. I need some singing, some real singing. It’s not that “Helter Skelter” and “Heartbreaker” aren’t real, but opera is so much healthier. And, oddly enough, feels more powerful at times than the blasting-belting-breaktheglass I tend to do.
So, I guess I’m done here. I’m just restless, I guess. Itchy for something to happen. I want to be busy again. Practicing on my own and writing on my own and doing projects on my own are altogether separate from doing things because of a deadline. Because I need to. Quite obviously I still need to get them done, I just don’t have a present and looming driving force right now. (My willpower hardly counts as present, or looming.)
I suppose I’ll trundle off to bed here shortly.
It’s goodnight for now.
Unless I sleepwalk myself up here in the middle of the night. And you never know about those things, either. My subconcious makes me text and talk in my sleep, maybe sleep-blogging will be next.
See you tomorrow.
…Maybe.
As my foot falls asleep,
25 August 2009, 7:31 pm
Filed under:
My Day,
My Explanations,
Random Thoughts,
Writing | Tags:
already,
anna netrebko,
bag,
beginning,
beverage,
big things,
bob marley,
brendan,
cappuccino,
clique,
clique-y,
cobble,
cozy,
critical,
deep,
deep thinking,
devil's spawn,
docile,
don't care,
don't know,
downstairs,
drama camp,
eight,
eight days,
emma,
end,
excuses,
first day,
floodwater,
friend,
girl,
God,
grab,
hard time,
head,
headache,
hopefully,
hot beverage,
hurt,
i don't know what i'm talking about,
kids,
kim,
lay low,
life,
little sister,
love,
man,
materialism,
maybe,
meeting,
melodic line,
michelle,
more stress,
mrs. ripley,
music,
my room,
old story,
opera,
Opera Freak,
organize,
outfit,
pound,
practice,
relaxing,
ripley,
room,
scare,
school,
shit,
sing,
sister,
sister's friend,
story snippets,
stress,
talk,
Tara,
techniques,
the avett brothers,
The Flood,
thinks,
troposphere,
vocal performance,
vocal technique,
voice,
wal-mart,
Writing,
yeahI don’t know what I want to write about. I don’t know what I want to do right now. I don’t know what I want to do with my life.
Well crap, talking to Brendan always makes me think about the big things. God and life, love, materialism and all of those… big things. Deep thinking. Like floodwater deep (and that’s pretty deep, kids).
Oh man, does my head hurt. It’s just beginning to start to pound. My sister has a friend over, so it’s not like I can go in my room and sing to music. Or even practice and try to talk myself out of the headache. Nope, I have to be a docile little girl and not scare the shit out of Tara with melodic lines warbling through the troposphere.
I think I might grab some cappuccino (we went to Wal-Mart today) and head downstairs anyway, turn on some Avett Brothers or Anna Netrebko or maybe Bob Marley. I don’t care about what my sister’s friend thinks about me, that’s not why I’m not going to practice. I do care that my vocal techniques might make Tara’s somewhat critical and clique-y attitude whip toward my sister. They already call me the Opera Freak… therefore I won’t make Michelle pull more excuses out of the air about me. I think she already has enough of a hard time, because so many people that know me end up meeting her. She came home from Drama Camp one day and told me I was the Devil’s spawn. Ripley called her Kim. Emma called her Kim. Everyone else called her Kim’s little sister, except for like, Colleen. I think it gets a little old after a while.
So I won’t put any more stress on her. I’ll lay low and put together my bag for school (eight days!). I might cobble together a “first day” outfit. Drink some caffeinated beverage, and organize some old story snippets.
Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. It’ll be a cozy, hopefully relaxing end to the day. Maybe.
Kick Drum Heart 