Wednesday, November 25, 2009

more often sad than angry

I was reading an article that described indie music in this way. It doesn't seem like such a bad thing. It's good to have a little melancholy in your life. I don't know about everybody else, but I have music for all my moods. I have sad music, I have angry music, I have music to write papers to, I have music to sleep to, I have lists and lists of music that I have yet to listen to. I have cravings for music that have nothing to do with my mood.
I get all muddled up whenever I try to describe or give labels to music or how I feel about it. My roommate has a motto; "When words fail, music speaks." Let's just listen to it and enjoy it. Or not enjoy it, and then we'll find something else to listen to. Either way, let's do some listening.*

*I'm really into Ben Kweller right now. Start with him. I recommend Thirteen.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Bittersweet Symphony

I have dreams of orca whales and owls
but I wake up in fear
you will never be my dear,
you will never be my dear, dear friend
[Hotel Song - Regina Spektor]

Friday, November 20, 2009

When I Forget How To Talk, I Sing

When I want to crawl into bed and never wake up,
Music makes me love the world again

*wilco will love you baby

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Even Trades

Today, I've been a little assailed by stereotypes. Rather, lately, and today they have come in and accumulated.
I have developed into an angsty teen in these past few weeks more than I have ever been in my entire teenhood. I post song lyrics on my blog. I've bought a pair of skinny black jeans. I wear converse. Today, sitting between shelves at a mall Barnes and Nobles, I read the Hipster Handbook and attributed a surprising amount of it to myself, despite its jokey air.
These are all just little, stupid changes I'm making to my life. I like being well-dressed, and didn't realize it in high school because I always assumed that I wouldn't. I like hats, and bracelets, and fun socks, and nail polish and I have been missing out. But again, small changes. College is supposed to be a time of all-sized changes and self-discovery.
Self-discovery is an interesting concept. It involves getting lost and it involves epiphanies. I guess I'm at the lost stage right now, and there is that nagging thought that wonders if you look too hard for an epiphany, if it might not ever come.
There are difficult decisions ahead. What I want to do with my life. Where I want to live. If I want to continue on at this college or try one closer to home. What I want to study. What classes to take next semester, or the semester after that, or the semester after that, ad nauseum. If I want to take classes that I know I'll have friends in or if I want to strike out on my own. If I want to get a job. If any of this matters.
Whenever I start to think too hard about anything, my brain starts to wonder. Is it worth it? Is the amount of worrying over this proportional to how much impact it will have on my life?
On usual things, the answer is no. On big things, the answer is yes, but I'm having trouble discerning whether these are big or little things.
There's no point in crying "what if". What if I had gone to another college, and I'd be much happier now. What if I'd majored in something else and had found my calling. What if I set up a schedule and I hate it? What if I'm left alone in my dormroom for too long and start to feel unloved? What if what if what if.
What if I just wing it? How would that turn out?
I suspect that I know myself well enough to realize that if I attempt to wing it, I will inevitably revert back to worrying too much. Inevitably hate myself for not putting enough effort into it if something turns out wrong.

I've never worried so much in my life. And despite being generally happy, I've never spent so much time being anxious or sad. What is it worth? My comfort for some degree? Well-being and contentness for classes I don't care about? Am I making even trades here, or am I just doing what's expected of me?

Friday, November 6, 2009

Little Birds

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there's never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile


Sunday, November 1, 2009


all winter we got carried
away over on the rooftops
let's get married
all summer we just hurried
so come over, just be patient
and don't worry

[death and all his friends - coldplay]

*If someone could explain to me this recent Coldplay kick, that'd be nice, as I've never liked them before.
**If somebody could explain to me why the five page paper due tomorrow still sits at half a page done, that'd also be nice.