My world used to be on fire.
Dancing on flames high in the sky.

(surely must stop entering drinking competitions and dancing into the wee hours on a work night)

all these days later
my head is still ringing like traffic.
I’m wrong again.
I don’t understand by the sum of your actions. I understand by your action. Action by action. Where am I now? Where are you now?

now that there’s no action.

who would have know what suprises newmarket had to offer me. a trio of south africans, one disheartened, two exceptional pool sharks. one with a beautiful grasp of the moment… someone said “where are you now?” and he asked me that. I lose sight of the moment. I lose sight of it when I stop to think on it, on a friday night in my basement, just me and my gibson guitar. a bag of pretzels and a couple bottles of blue. my ES135 with stacked humbuckers… maybe I’ll play electric afterall.

I’m sick of this hazy theme, of chapters ending. but I’m stuck in an endless paragraph, and it just won’t happen. if you are going to fuck off, then fuck off. I want to bring a part of you with me truthfully. but if you don’t want me on your road then I’ll fly. keep you arms inside, stay in your lane, and fuck off.

I’m the sum of all that I couldn’t be.
Give what you take,
the deals that we make.
What more can you ask of me?
I’ll keep climbing if you’ll remind me what I’m climbing for.

Even you could fall,
there’s something in that pain that ruins it all.

“and words are like poison, that sinks down inside you.”

that they could be. I’ll keep them as thoughts, that isolate, infuriate, and sadden.

what keeps them on one side of these lips?
what good are words when you know not where to put them?
what good are thoughts when there’s no reason to put them to words?

Girl,
you aren’t anything because you are everything. Only in dreams do you kill me or fill me like that. You don’t come to me within my five senses so what can I expect? If I were a better man maybe I could hear you, maybe I could smell you, and maybe I could touch you.
I can fear you (”faraway so close”) because, just sometimes, even love must have opposites. right?? I can’t settle on that. We need lies to have truth? Is it beyond us all to really understand the idea of ONE? We’re a pathetic bunch aren’t we?

and I adore it. my hands on plants and in the dirt, the sun on my back, rain in my eyes. working in the rain is great, until you stop and realize how wet you are…and then you try to remain perfectly still. you know the feeling. (yeck)

for about the last 3 years I’ve been fascinated by bird calls. sitting in the park trying to find the point at which it loops, the phrasing, the tone. I’d like to base compositions on this.

it’s been done, the idea is as old as music I guess.

I heard one call today, at work…at the garden centre. I can’t remember what type of bird it was. it wasn’t so complex melodically, but rhythmically, it was out of my reach. I’m going to record the calls, and slow them to maybe a quarter speed.

so that will be step one. a rhythmic study of bird calls.

next… a melodic study.

and finally how they fit together. the bird call I heard today consisted of two parts, a complex rhythmic part low in a constant pitch with a simpler melodic part using three of four notes.

obviously I’ll have to learn the names of these birds as well! to organize everything.

so yeah…
who wants to come sit in the park?

what happened to the moment and purity and decency.