and also because it is 2 am and i can't sleep.
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
friday playlist
little man - little dragon
hang with me - robyn
16 years - phantogram
colour fade - funeral suits
my mother found our first piano at a garage sale when i was 7 years old.
the beat-up, upright piano had spent the majority of it's life in a saloon. the keys were yellowed and chipped, the stench of nicotine had seeped itself permanently into the body. it hadn't been tuned in years, and it's bench had long since been thrown out.
from the moment i saw it in our house, i was completely enamored.
sometimes, after i'd been put to bed, but before i'd fallen asleep, my mom would play. i can just imagine her, taking a few moments to herself, fingers gliding over the keys, eyes closed, lost in memories and pensive introspection. i distinctly remember feeling so peaceful and safe as moonlight sonata drifted up the stairs and rocked me to sleep.
after a few months of lessons, i knew i wanted to play forever. i wrote my grandfather a letter, asking him for the sheet music to fur elise. he sent me his own personal copy, yellowed and ripping, taped together, notes scrawled across the margins.
my father once sat me on his lap as my mother played the piece in the other room. he told me to close his eyes and describe the music i was hearing. the two of us listened to the song over and over, talking about ballerinas and magic and trying to articulate music in a way that can't truly be done.... but it's the greatest thing to try.
i want a piano in my future home. i want to play canon in d, which is my favorite song in the world, or clair de lune, which is my second favorite. i hope my kids are still awake as i plunk out the tunes that will hopefully instill in them a sense of peace and safety, and stick in their minds as a special memory, just as my mother's playing has for me.
the beat-up, upright piano had spent the majority of it's life in a saloon. the keys were yellowed and chipped, the stench of nicotine had seeped itself permanently into the body. it hadn't been tuned in years, and it's bench had long since been thrown out.
from the moment i saw it in our house, i was completely enamored.
sometimes, after i'd been put to bed, but before i'd fallen asleep, my mom would play. i can just imagine her, taking a few moments to herself, fingers gliding over the keys, eyes closed, lost in memories and pensive introspection. i distinctly remember feeling so peaceful and safe as moonlight sonata drifted up the stairs and rocked me to sleep.
after a few months of lessons, i knew i wanted to play forever. i wrote my grandfather a letter, asking him for the sheet music to fur elise. he sent me his own personal copy, yellowed and ripping, taped together, notes scrawled across the margins.
my father once sat me on his lap as my mother played the piece in the other room. he told me to close his eyes and describe the music i was hearing. the two of us listened to the song over and over, talking about ballerinas and magic and trying to articulate music in a way that can't truly be done.... but it's the greatest thing to try.
i want a piano in my future home. i want to play canon in d, which is my favorite song in the world, or clair de lune, which is my second favorite. i hope my kids are still awake as i plunk out the tunes that will hopefully instill in them a sense of peace and safety, and stick in their minds as a special memory, just as my mother's playing has for me.
my engine rumbled idly and heat rasped through the vents, warming my icy fingers.
the rain wasn't heavy enough to splatter the windshield in fat, lazy melancholy like i'd hoped. instead, small drops sharply darted toward the glass like feathered quills. i watched as they formed tiny tributaries, occasionally conjoining flows at acute angles.
the whole scene went blurry as my attention caught inside my own head. that had been happening a lot lately. life would go slightly out of focus as my thoughts consumed my present.
questions swam around, just beyond my visions reach. wordless questions, questions i couldn't quite articulate. my head was just in an abstract state of loss and confusion.
questions without foundation, like "can i keep this up forever?" or "where am i supposed to be?"
questions with no answers, like "when will my head break surface?"
ever-present and all-encompassing questions, like "why?" or worse, "how?"
and then the light turned green. a car horn barked from behind me and i was sucked, in one startling fell swoop, back to reality. back to the rain, the road.
and life--real life--resumed like normal.
friday song
when you're alone,
do you ever stomp your feet
just to hear the impact you're having on the world?
two whole tears.
two whole tears is all i could muster. alone, in a tanning bed. two whole tears.
that's how exhausted i am of all this. i could only muster two whole tears.
it was like this, all over again.
it was like this, all over again.
last night, i was surrounded by... prospects. kind eyes, full beards, infectious laughs.
and you know what i thought?
"god, i hope they're not interested in return. i'm too tired."
"god, i hope they're not interested in return. i'm too tired."
because really. i'm just too damn tired.
i don't have a home.
where i live now is temporary. and where my family lives now is foreign to me.
the drive from my non-home to my parents non-home is about 3 and a half hours of straight desert.
it's usually really long, extremely boring, and kind of dangerous.
but there's one part of the drive that changes me a little bit every time.
it's about 2 and a half hours in. it's usually dark by this time, and i'm surrounded by nothingness. to the distant right are quiet redrock cliffs; to the left are dirt hills and sparse shrubbery.
all you can really see are stars.
my favorite thing to do at this point is roll down my windows, regardless of the temperature, set my cruise control to 95, and blast this song.
i do that until the hypothermia sets in.
then i roll up my windows and turn off any sound.
then, i just take it all in.
the blank slate that is the road ahead of me, the sky above, my future.
it's a very reverent moment for me. i feel... peaceful. in awe of a greater power, a sense of control that i can't quite grasp.
it's in those few minutes, between green river and floy, in the middle of the desert, all alone... it's in those few minutes that i feel most at home.
where i live now is temporary. and where my family lives now is foreign to me.
the drive from my non-home to my parents non-home is about 3 and a half hours of straight desert.
it's usually really long, extremely boring, and kind of dangerous.
but there's one part of the drive that changes me a little bit every time.
it's about 2 and a half hours in. it's usually dark by this time, and i'm surrounded by nothingness. to the distant right are quiet redrock cliffs; to the left are dirt hills and sparse shrubbery.
all you can really see are stars.
my favorite thing to do at this point is roll down my windows, regardless of the temperature, set my cruise control to 95, and blast this song.
i do that until the hypothermia sets in.
then i roll up my windows and turn off any sound.
then, i just take it all in.
the blank slate that is the road ahead of me, the sky above, my future.
it's a very reverent moment for me. i feel... peaceful. in awe of a greater power, a sense of control that i can't quite grasp.
it's in those few minutes, between green river and floy, in the middle of the desert, all alone... it's in those few minutes that i feel most at home.
the problem with substance abuse is that you don't realize how severe your problem is until you try to leave it behind.
a bottle of nyquil and i had a very intense staring contest yesterday. luckily, i won, and went for a jog instead.
because, being healthy and happy on my own are better than inebriation.
that's what i keep telling myself.
i'm sad that the beautiful new gold watch i bought that goes with everything and is perfect in every way is made of some abhorrent material to which i am allergic.
and i'm sad my best friend hates me right now. break ups stink, did you know?
and i'm absolutely sad that my sister is out of town and my family officially sold their utah house and everyone is so god damn old.
but then there's late drives up the canyon and purple hair and the smell of lavender, so, you know.
life's good.
why don't you know you're alive
you will never live your life so long as you're standing in a shadow.
and maybe that shadow is too close to my own, so i can't be objective.
but you're never going to be happy if you can't let it go. and she won't let you go, so now it's up to you.
also, i still like boys. so what do i even care?
summer playlist
super ready to ride bikes and roll down the windows and live in a swimming suit. can't wait to see the beach!
we used to be friends - the dandy warhols
she said, she said - the black keys
punching in a dream - the naked and famous
bodysnatchers - radiohead
vibrations - javelin
help, i'm alive - metric
some other sunny playlists
friday song and the way our lives devolve
these last few months have been weird.
not bad, not good. just... weird.
i'm spring cleaning my life.
i deleted like 600 people off facebook, 20 people from my phone book, all my old messages and photos, and, obviously, scrubbed the shit out of my apartment.
and i feel... the same.
so. there's that.
friday playlist
codex - radiohead
sail - awolnation
fortune teller - forest fire
too late - m83
islands - the xx
there are a few repeats here, and these songs don't necessarily correlate well together, but they've been on repeat for me all week. just trying to assuage - or maybe supplement - the crushing weight of... life?
sail - awolnation
fortune teller - forest fire
too late - m83
islands - the xx
there are a few repeats here, and these songs don't necessarily correlate well together, but they've been on repeat for me all week. just trying to assuage - or maybe supplement - the crushing weight of... life?
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