murders of crows perch upon barstools

21 Oct

I think that if I put all my blog post titles together and added some pretentious-looking semicolons I could write one kickass poem.

Anyway. Making wake-up mixes and other stuff, probably not going to be able to burn said wake-up mixes but I’m going to make the playlist anyway, goddarnit. “Grown So Ugly” is the first one on there, because it is so freaking energetic and I can’t help jumping up when I hear it. Then “Panda”…man, I have no life.

Speaking of not having a life, I think  I love play practice. I find such joy in the things we do backstage. We are funny people.  There was an entire conversation whilst walking up to the Pavilion (the stage area) about how Wil wanted a Baconator (eeuuughh) and didn’t want to drive to get it, so he tried to convince Jamesey to get one for him. Jamesey proceeded to whine something along the lines of “But you have to come wiiiith meeee!” and thus began hilarity. We talked about what exactly would be in a “F*ckinator” and there was much unneeded profanity involved. Finally, as we are walking down to the parking lot, Kathleen suddenly appears, Jamesey and I tell her about the Bacon/F*ckin’-ator predicament, and she solves it simply by going “Oh, I’ll come with you!” Wil suddenly had a change of heart and agrees. I didn’t go with them because, alas, my mother would probably roast me and then flay me, then possibly make soup out of my charred hair, skin, and internal organs. The bones she’d give to the dog.

Man I still feel like writing, how about some poems? Okay. Woohoo!

there is triumph in the stars
in the galaxies
in our hearts
in our souls
in the earth
in our very being, and all that is around us
can we not channel and
shape and
mold that triumph
and let it burst forth-?

ten thousand paper airplanes,
flying through the waves of beautiful
sonic melodies

let our triumph fill the air
let it spill from our lips
let it thrum through our bodies
let us dance, dance
let this triumph carry us away
and fill our dreams

That was inspired by a video I found on the Sigur Ros website (and for the life of me I can’t be bothered to look it up again) that was this guy, an artist, who released a hundred thousand paper airplanes off of a few buildings in Grand Rapids, Michigan for some art thing. It was all set to eight bars of a Sigur Ros song, “Olsen Olsen.” Beautiful stuff.
Man, now I’m all inspired to write a song or something, but I positively SUCK at those things. Songs. They. Are. Ridiculous. Either I figure out a cool riff but can’t get words to fit it, or (much more commonly) I get words but can’t find the chords to make it beautiful. Any ideas to ameliorate this dilemma?
haha big words
Wwweell, two blog posts in one day, I think I’m done here. See y’all later.

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