I never understood "Monday Mornings" until today.

Oh geez. Sometimes I hate having a family, hate the understanding needed for all interaction with them. Living on my own would simplify things, I think, relationally. What is it - absence makes the heart grow fonder? It does; it certainly does.

Angels Will Follow Me.

I'm learning not to sweat as much. I didn't sweat too much before, but last night (during one of the worst headaches of my life) I had a lot of time to think while waiting for the pills to kick in, and in one moment, it was like I stepped off the edge of the cliff where my pursuers had hounded me to, and instead of hitting the ground immediately, I'm still falling - and falling is just another version of flying.

Perhaps ignoring the looming earth is delusional, but it is also like this song by Lissie, "Everywhere I Go."

A Post Praising Rabbit Song by Boy & Bear

This is a post solely for praising Rabbit Song by Boy & Bear.

Thistles and Weeds.

3:45 in the morning, and I am finally done all the stuff I have to send away to Pensacola. Now I am listening to Mumford&Sons, their songs that I haven't heard before. If I could marry them all, I would. I would marry the piano/accordion player for his high voice. I would marry the lead singer for his emotion and for his nose. I would marry the big cello (or whatever it is) player for his thick hair and for his eyes. I would marry the banjo player for his banjo playing and for his beautiful face.

I need their music. It tinges my dreams and I'm always humming lines and choruses. Tomorrow I can sleep and write seriously. I'm planning on taking a walk with my notebook and pens and iPod, maybe, and finding someplace to sit and write. Perhaps I'll hit 20,000 words.

Unsentimental.

So. Five thousand, one hundred and twenty five words; I should be at eight thousand - something. It is a sad deficiency which I will probably stay awake trying to lessen. Luckily I have music and a tin full of loose black tea leaves, not to mention the fortification of a midday nap I took which threw the balance of my day off, as those things usually do.

The bright side is the dentists get better and better every time I go to the dentist's office.. first Dr. Sean, then Dr. Carlos, and now Dr. Black Man with a Sense of Humor. Ah, good times. Good times. Never did I think I would say that after a visit to the dentist, but there you go. Also I played some old arcade games... Jungle Man, Mrs. Pacman, Bentley Bear, Pacman Theatre. Again: good times.

Locked in a Room.

I need to write today; add the 400 words I didn't finish yesterday, and I must push out over 2000 words today. But I couldn't. Or - I should have, because maybe that would have alleviated some of the haze, but here:

Oh God, I can't even write it. I gathered my courage last night and wrote it in my real journal, but I can't even think about it now without wanting to puke my guts out. The moral of this story is "Irene needs to stay away from falling in love and being disappointed to the point of illness." The truth is, "Irene can't imagine living a life without falling in love."

Curse my eternal optimism, my brain's trick of covering bad memories, and the always-looking-ahead mentality that hovers over my soul. Wouldn't you know - it's not even such a bad thing, in terms of how bad things can get. Just a slap to the face is all.

And during small group, I wanted to talk to someone about something, but to who and about what completely flew out of my head. WHY. Well, there are two things. Last night and also this weird thing that's been happening for a long long time now. When someone knows what someone's going to say - completely unconnected, previously unmentioned things - what is that person supposed to think? What about if it happens consistently? Often, even? What then.

I've always had a knack for finishing people's sentences but never to this point, and I don't want to say anything to anyone but keeping it locked inside my mind is driving me crazy. Speaking of which, Oren Lavie has a beautiful, haunting voice.

why do we want to be SOmeTHINg more?

Gradually my fingers are curving into the piano positions. I begin to see the paths of the songs over the keys, and begin to understand the relationships between notes and syncopation and rhythm. Harmony. Transposition. EGBDF, FACE; GBDFA, ACEG. And the rest. And more. It's dizzying, and I find myself loving music more and more.

I and Love and You - The Avett Brothers

You're the One - Paul Simon

Blame It on the Rain - He is We

Soft Summer Girls - Barzin

Jique - Brazilian Girls

In the meantime. I worked today, a little, and earned $30. I have plans for them.

When I was younger, I refused to even look at music dealing with love - even secular music. Now it nothing. Now I am older, and know more things, and understand more things (but I'm just a taller child). It's raining and soon I am leaving for small group.

Lists.

Somewhere Only We Know - Keane

Wondering Where the Lions Are - Bruce Cockburn

Caravan of Love - Housemartins

Road Regrets - Dan Mangan

I Turn My Camera On - Spoon

Gravity's Rainbow - Klaxons

I wish I knew what to do, or how to feel. One or the other. There are a few piles of thoughts in my head, because that's all the organizing I can do at this point:

1. The pile of what I know

2. The pile of what I am not confused about

3. The pile of what I have no idea what to do with

The summation of my mind. I have to go.

I Don't Feel the Same.

I have begun.. one third of today's goal completed, and it is flowing very smoothly (as it should- I've been thinking on this story for two months. It's such a relief to be able to finally write it). I am not telling anyone what it is, though. I doubt I ever will.

It's not autobiographical, but it's close enough that it makes me uncomfortable. But here's how it is:

This is Alice's story. It hit me, and I felt like I knew all about her. To refuse to write this down just because I understand where she is coming and going would be wrong. I would be denying something vital, and thanks to an in-your-face post by a write I read recently, I am doing more.

I'm painting, I'm writing, I'm singing. I'm learning how to live.

I'm working on my Manifesto.

Everybody's Changing - Keane

Blue Eyes - Timmy Curan

Love, Love, Love - Tristan Prettyman

Reasons to Love You - Meiko

Rain - Priscilla Ahn