Song

You won't know what I'll be feeling, 'cuz you've always asked for a needle and Novacaine
Someday you'll let down your guard; it comes from behind and it hits like a hurricane
I had said I'd wait but I realized that I don't have time for this heart made of cellophane
You said I can't know what you're feeling, but I looked in your eyes and they read like a weathervane

Possibly a chorus of a new song. Just felt like writing it.

Peace out.

Women and Children

It occured to me sometime last night that I'm leaving the group of "Women and Children" that get to jump ship first and don't get shot in hostage situations and am entering the group of "Fighting-Aged Men" that have to go down with the ship and get shot when no one wants to.

Peace out.

Blanket

This morning I woke up sometime before I actually wanted to get out of bed, which happens all the time to everyone I'm sure. I adjusted position, but I didn't realize where I was moving from - my elbow was putting weight on one part of my blanket that I've had since I was born, and my body was putting weight on the closer part of it. So when I moved my body back, my elbow held part of it in place, but my body took the other part with it, giving it a somewhat serious rip. I heard it and I was extremely sad. I don't know how much longer it'll make it. All the corners are looking pretty bad now. Some are worse than others, and I actually couldn't tell which one I ripped today when I look later, but I am afraid it'll all be apart soon.

Peace out.

Just Noticed

That I wrote as many blog entries in the short time between leaving home for Brown and the end of 2007 as I did in all of 2008.

Peace out.

Piano

Playing piano is a lot harder at college than it is at home where I basically have a "private" piano. At school there's one in my dorm room, but the walls are thin so writing a song is embarrassing still. There's one in a study lounge, so it's clear why I don't write there. The other is five minutes' walk away in a basement sound-proof room, which is sort of creepy and frequently occupied, making it usually not worth going. Thus I haven't been able to write songs nearly as much as I used to.

The February of my senior year I think I wrote about 4 songs in four weeks. I haven't written one is five weeks or so at this point (since right before Thanksgiving). I think I still can't write at home because I've lost the "habit" of constant piano playing because of terrible pianoing conditions at Penn State.

It makes me really frustrated, and I would do just about anything in the world to change it. I would kill a man to be able to write songs more frequently. I guess it's something I'll have to work on.

Peace out.

Windows

I've always been sort of afraid of the dark. Not really just darkness, but more like what you can't see because of the lack of light... which I suppose is really a more accurate labelling of being "afraid of the dark." When I was younger - and sometimes even now - I would run up my basement stairs when I turned the lights off at night, fearing something would grab my ankles and drag me down and torture/kill me if I didn't move quickly enough.

Currently my main fear is windows. I'm often afraid something sinister is beyond them. Sometimes when I'm in the basement, I fear a criminal peering into the windows above the pool table. When I put my cereal bowl away at night, I'm afraid that someone with a rifle is positioned in the woods, waiting for someone to stand at the sink to shoot. Right at this moment at this computer, there are two huge windows just to the right of me, and I had to completely cover the one I can see in my peripheral out of fear of something or someone jumping up to it and scaring me to death.

Peace out.