It’s been quite a while since I really touched my guitar, or played or painted or did anything remotely creative. But out of the blue I made a song tonight. And I think being a perfectionist sucks. Being so stuck up on what people think sucks balls. So what am I gonna do? I’m gonna post a draft of the song. It was recorded with my computer microphone and, yeah, as I said it’s a draft, just made. But hopefully you won’t think ALL of it blows …
(Uploaded the song in a new post after recording it with a real recorder)
As I said, I’m trying to not take myself too seriously and stuff and not be too self-conscious and perfectionistic, but I don’t think I’ll leave it up for long. There are boundaries!
So if anyone get’s to hear it, let me know what you think, even though it’s “You’re a terrible singer, it’s too repetitive, go die” … Or don’t say “go die”.
Sound surrounds me and all I want to do is scream. Shut up, I think. SHUT UP.
I can’t stand the chittery-chatting. I can’t stand to see. I want to cave in, isolate myself, underneath my covers and listen to loud-loud music. Only real noise can block out the noise I feel. Nothing. Nothing hits me. I turn to it the other cheek. And get hit again. Nothing is playing table-tennis and my head is the ball.
Heaven falls down. Game over. I get nauseous and heaven falls down again. And again and again. Earth spins too fast. You cannot spin-race the earth – because you will never win.
Silence hugs me tight. Silence squezes around me. Tighter. I can’t move an inch, and I can hardly breathe. Nothing comes out, even though it’s on the verge. Silence chokes me, but only my soul dies … my soul and my hope.
I hear a sigh, someone’s scratching their head, whispers, and the only thing I think is GAAAH! Silence is so noisy! Silence is too loud.
Catch me, force me. Hit me if you must. You must. Beat the living crap out of me so I won’t feel the noise in the silence. There’s. Too. Much. Noise.
Let me go. Leave me be. Set me free. Life is not in my future. SHUT UP, I think.
It hits me
Death will take me anyway
Death has chosen
Shall we dance
Will I let life
take it’s course
Or will I?
No one chose me!
Death will take me anyway
I can choose
No … thanks
Take it back
want the choice
Little about life
Life doesn’t exist
I can choose death now
or later That
I wrote this almost 2 years ago. I chose ‘now’, felt the euphoria of the choice, but chickened out after a phone call from a friend calling me selfish. I woke up in a hotel room by myself, lonely, lonely, lonely. I didn’t really write this, you imagined it.