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‘Story Time.’ Category

  1. Contemplations: PS–It’s Not About You!

    November 14, 2011 by me


    It’s funny. Sometimes I have writer’s block for days…weeks. Other times, it just flows out of me like water. I have no idea where this came from, because everything in my life is not really that complicated. My life is fine, good, actually, but there must be something deep within, or a subconscious that I am not aware of that makes words like these flow out of me. I get my inspiration from everywhere, and half the time it has nothing to do with my life, everything to do with what I just watched on TV, a song I just heard, or a problem someone else in my life is having. Geez, I can get inspiration from a door knob. It’s ridiculous. I get ideas in the most inappropriate places, like an obit or a crazy news story.

    But my favorite part is when people that I know think I am writing about them. Think that my over-analytical prose are about them, or someone they know, or affect them in some way where they think I am writing about them. It cracks me up. If only I spent as much time thinking about other people as I do me! :)

    So here is another prose for you. Has nothing to do with anything. Or does it? (Have fun over-analyzing that one…for I’m the only one who knows the truth!—and PS—I am usually making it all up in my head!)

    Not gonna over analyze the situation
    Just gonna live my life the way I can while I’m young
    Not gonna mess around
    Cause clarity is found
    Not gonna over analyze the situation

    The time has come for me to take a step back
    to stop analyzing the truth that comes from telling lies
    to you I owe nothing
    to me I owe everything
    take a beat
    and breathe it in.

    Complicate is easy to do
    A simple concept in all that is new
    the mind, she flows
    with false impressions of you
    Obscure the truth in order to enjoy this life
    Is not a way out it seems

    Tempted by the words you make
    Motivated by the hearts you take
    We’re more alike than you claim
    It’s curious how we’re one in the same.

    Not gonna over analyze the situation
    Just gonna live my life the way I can while I’m young
    Not gonna mess around
    Cause clarity is found
    Not gonna over analyze the situation

    Category Contemplations., Music Soothes the Soul., Story Time. | Tags: ,,, | No Comments

  2. Story Time: Life Lesson #2349–You Don’t Have to Be Everyone’s Friend

    November 2, 2011 by me


    A Work of Fiction:

    In a world where she felt like she had to be friends with everyone she met, it became increasing frustrating to maintain friendships when agendas were not displayed properly. She was that girl that strived to be friends with everyone, who tried not to have a bad thing to say about anyone, and felt that everyone else should do the same. When reality crept in, and she began to realize that people are not always what they seem at face value, that the boy she liked may never call her back, or that a smile from a so-called confidant could have a completely malicious undertone. She liked to see the good in everything, which made her naive…a lone daisy in the field of bramble. And while she understood their frustration, the unfair nature of their current reality, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for all the things that she had. And how she should not feel at all guilty for the opportunities presented. And that by having to defend the very nature of the beast that threatened her so-call friendships, that she was actually casting a spell of distrust and disillusionment of her very existence. For, she realized, although you strive to be friends with everyone, not everyone will always be friends with you…and there is nothing you can do. Thus is life. Adapt and move on. Be yourself. For the people who know you won’t care, and the people who do care don’t matter.

    Category Contemplations., Life Observations., Story Time. | Tags: | 1 Comment

  3. Story Time: Old lyrics to songs yet unsung

    July 20, 2010 by me

    So I had some, let’s just say, “motivation”, to write today…and instead of taking the pen to paper, I actually picked up the pick and started strumming. It’s been a while…let’s just say the guitars that hang on my wall are a little dusty. But my finger pads are sore, and I have yet another song to add to the overwhelming list of lyrics. I’m either going to write a musical, or a really crappy folk album.

    I forgot how much I love writing, and it was hilarious to go back to the other songs and look at what I wrote. I keep one legal pad full of quotes, rhyming words, snips of concepts that don’t make any sense, but rhyme. And I actually came across a book where I started writing all these phrases and random ideas in a blank journal. All these little quips that I so love…like “No sense of self – it’s motivated by the headlines of the day” or my favorite that was written 2008 (oh how nothing has changed) “The what-ifs haunt my doubts of self-consciousness, dredging up old insecurities in the mud of adversity”. Now, if I could write a song around that phrase, I think it would be a hit!

    But the funniest thing was coming across this “song” that I wrote, when I lost all my iPod music because iTunes is the devil and erased everything in an instant. So here it is. It’s a little violent, a little hostel, but I remember the time exactly, where you thought all your tunes were safe and sound, contained in a little box…and with one false click of the “ok to erase” button, your world was shattered….so to all the people who have ever lost their entire iPod playlists, this one’s for you:

    An Ode to My iPod (7/30/08)

    Why won’t you just DIE DIE DIE
    You stupid little thing

    Why do I RELY LIE LIE
    On every little thing you do

    I totally hate you.
    You stupid music player thing.

    Why won’t you DIE DIE DIE
    You stupid little box.

    All you do is LIE LIE LIE
    about your magic powers.

    I hate you…but I love you…and therein lies the rub.

    Just DIE you stupid iPod scum!

    Category Story Time. | Tags: | No Comments

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