With your fashionable frown.

In November I decided that I would write a song every day for the entire month. That did not work out as well as I had hoped. Nobody has the time to sit down and write songs like that. By the end of the month I had precious little to show for my proposed efforts: three songs about states I do not like that much, a couple of nonsense songs, and innumerable fragmented ideas.

And an ongoing story about zombies.

So I laughed it off and moved on with my life. I did not want to think about those songs too much. They are kind of shameful.

I walked to my room with my backpack. I haven't used a backpack in a long time. It felt strange to have the weight evenly distributed across my shoulders. My roommate wasn't there again. I emptied out my backpack onto the shelf: two textbooks. Kind of a waste of time, I guess. That's okay. I'm used to doing things like that.

As I made my way back across campus my mind decided to think about the songs I had tried to make before. Then they started to develop. Then I had three songs in my head. I wish this had happened in November when I had the time to work on them. I sped home to write them down in my book.

This was not as interesting a story as it seemed when I started writing it.

Comments

No, Holmes, no!

All I ever think about these days is how much I have to/want to study. I hope that's not how I have a good time, now. Would I rather go hang out with peeps or would I rather sit in and study? It is a difficult question to answer. Just a couple more days and then I can focus all my energy on the next greatest idea I've ever had: iconic detectives and sharks.

I wonder, sometimes.

I am standing on the edge of a cliff face. A breeze whips past me as I stare out into the darkness. It's a familiar sight, comforting. The river bends below me. It stretches out, away from me at both ends. The arch of the bridge traverses the river, silhouetted by the house lights and golf course below us. So far away from us. The highway reaches out before us, straight into the hills and disappears on the horizon. It is silent. There are no cars. No planes. No animals. It is just us standing on top of the cliff. As it should be. It's late. A late weeknight. Just a normal Tuesday night to the world. I step away from the edge. In 5 minutes, I will be 22 years old. It's a turning point in my life. A fixed checkpoint. I'm only 21 years old, I'm not an actual adult yet. Maybe legally. But I'm still a child. I'm immature, I laugh at fart jokes. I laugh at everything. Why would I take anything seriously? 21 years old and we still have no responsibilities. We c...

Side effects include constant irritability, being an ass.

It was a typical day in MUS 307 . A typical day where nobody pays attention to anything the professor talks about. A day where people play shitty flash games instead of take notes. A day where people sit and refresh their Facebook newsfeed instead of follow the slides. A day where people roll their eyes and go to sleep instead of listen to the music examples. A day where people get up and leave ten minutes before lecture ends instead of having the God damn decency to stay the whole time and pretend to be interested. I mean, if you're going to be so unaffected by the music we're studying in class then why the fuck did you take the class in the first place? Fuck it makes me mad. And I haven't even started talking about that fucker who sits in the back and tries to whistle along with every song that gets played in class. Alright, dude, we get it: you are just too cool and you know everything about jazz, ever. You know every standard ever written and everybody's so...

everything is fine

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