.

"God is love and love is real, but the dead are dancing with the dead,
And whatever's charming disappears while all things lovely only hurt my head
As I gather stones from fields like pearls of water on my fingers' ends
(And I carefully wrap them up in boxes... safe from windows...)
From things that break!!"

-mewithoutYou

Coffee Shop.

I played two instrumental songs at a coffee shop tonight. It was the same coffee shop where I played my last set with lyrics. I covered Trace Bundy's "Dueling Ninjas" and then I played one of my own that involves a lot of slapping of the guitar with some sweet rhythms. This is only the second time where I have been able to express myself with just the guitar with quite a few listeners through speakers and microphones. It feels peaceful to the unsteadiness of my week being able to play. If there was a way to play all the time, I couldn't think of anything better to do. It gives me joy.

Untitled.

Why? Why does it always seems so hard to get my thoughts straight? I feel like music is my passion, but I won't let it consume me. Should it? It feels as if I am staring at a blank wall with the surface so plain that is shadows over this barren desert of my soul with no hope of looking elsewhere. Why do I even feel that I should write my thoughts on paper? Do I have to? I am not required. It seems that through writing I will be able to make sense of that blank wall. Is that how I am supposed to feel? I want to write music and lyrics. But is it more of a want than a need? Where is motivation? Creativity? I think of all the events and people in the world wanting to write about it, but I feel like I lack a quality that I am unaware of. Why? How do I find my own voice? My own story? Maybe it is through writing thoughts and composing music in order to find what I am looking for. Whatever that may be.

Fall through leaves

Letters upon Letters bring a brisk stillness
Ink is all that is true
Let the paper ring forth
Let the ideas go free
All is calm
For now
Return to sender
Then sign a name
In ink
Don't wait too long
Don't fade away
Come back
Next August
I wait

I am not afraid.

"I want to skip like a stone from a stronger arm.
Each one I throw is moving somewhere.

Oh, let me go.
I will go out, out, out, out
Past these yellow ropes.
I am not afraid."

-Anathallo

Random thoughts drain fingertips.

-I broke a guitar string today, the G-String. It was begging to be changed with a new set anyways.

-Chopin is fun (when my fingers are warm).

-Clair de Lune by Debussy has quite a few ties, but they come undone once in a while.

-Diabelli uses too many scales randomly in a Sonatina.

-Handel turned out to be alright after all.

-I am a lead in a play.

-I have never acted before.

-Les Miserables by Victor Hugo is amazing (so far).

-Reds are my personal favorite bearings.

-Running can be fun.

-Folding clothes take too much time.

-Concepts of Physical Fitness is the most worthless class.

-Seriously.

-Joy is found in an unheard song.

-Simon and Garfunkel.period.

-Listen to: Saint John and the Revelations.

-Busking around Europe seems like a realistic dream.

-$350 roundtrip ticket to Paris is tempting.

-Next summer.

-Hesitancy between chicken and steak at Chipotle slows my thought process.

-Quotes.

-Playing at coffee shops = amazing.

-freerice.com is worthwhile.

-Change is possible.

-Lyrics are possible.

-Music is possible.

-Art speaks constantly.

-Simple is constant.

-Thank you?

p.s. I want to write more blogs/lyrics/poetry/music/etc.