05.24.01 oy birthday weirdness
Christen and I are contemplating sneaking out and going to a karaoke bar as I type...
It probably won't happen. Not only are her grandparents here, but her parents and little brothers are here too. Whee. Fun.
I wrote a song today. Have you ever been depressed but haven't been entirely able to articulate WHY you're depressed? That's how I felt today. I felt somewhat miserable. I don't know, I don't know why.
In the book of Ezekiel, I was surprised to see that there was emphatic repetition. "I will turn over, turn over, turn over..." said the Lord. Neato.
If you ever decide you want to read through the Bible in a month, I say it's not possible as long as the book of Ezekiel is included in the official canon. Wow. That is a dry and unhappy book.
ANYWAY, back to the song. It has some interesting movement in it. I'm happy with it. I want to be able to play it without screwing up. I want to record a CD, dangit. Lord knows I have enough material. It'll be an interesting mix... I've written quite a bit on piano lately, and I want to hear it as I hear it in my head. Will someone give me a drumset and a bass? How about a string session.
I saw a movie by this much-lauded (well, by Christen anyway, and she's the only person I've been talking to lately) Scott Derrickson tonight. It was odd... the main characters were these two demons who haunted this desert gas station plugging in thoughts of despair and hopelessness in the minds of ordinary men. Their purpose was to squelch the existence of love in their hearts. 'Twas interesting. Very arty... color and snazzy camerawork everywhere.
I don't know... I've been thinking lately that rallying cries for love are hopeless if all they make us do is nod in agreement. Action is the key, is it not? You can't malign people for not caring about destitute and depressed humanity in one breath and then complain about how you hate blankrandomguy for being annoying. If you're going to make a sweeping statement of love, then let it apply to the common man as well.
God is killing the elitist in me. AMEN!
Well. Enough. Blah.
email me.
This page was constructed in 
Notepad. Raw. Brittle. Use it.
