While at my desk....

I decided that I would continue composing if only for my pleasure, it is more or less what you might call a hobby, alot like acting is for me, something that I do because I enjoy, so stinking what if I am extremely good at it,that is not the point, or will it be with my desire to continue composing crapy music. It is something I love. I want to keep a written history in music as well as words so I will find a way to deposit them here. As all of my other ideas have for various reasons, the most common being a no longer used medium, been lost to me. I just wish things would stop trying to improve so quickly. Let the world enjoy things for a while, yes, we all know they could be better, that proves nothing to change them. I gotta go get whatever is beeping at me in the microwave. Hey! now there is something imagined already just waiting to happen! Why not focus your energy into a simulator instead of a new operating system? The old system is fine we still have straglers who "thunk". If you know long term things are.going to change, make it a more permanent; Backing up a bit, I would really love a simulator! there are atoms everywhere not being useful, unless the understood use is something like gravity, always there, but taken for granted, thus not noticed until it goes away.

Stargate

Being born is best metaphorized (new word, you saw it here first!) by stepping through a stargate. We enter a new world and have only us to solve coutless dilemmas. I sure wish I had such teams to aid me, but I get to solve the problems entirely on my own! But Each problem could be likened unto an episode and the teams could metaphorically be solving our problems!

I conclude that I use what I see around me to uderstand what I don't. It makes more sense to just use the script(ures) though.

Don't forget!

I discovered a way to write real page turners, easily. I hope that I come back to this idea and develop it.

I had thought that writting dreams would make great stories. Something our brains already do to entertain us, then it happened. I realized that my best stories were already being created, and I hadn't actually given it much thought.

Afterall, most of the great stories of dieties were written by free thinkers who tried to explain a phenomenon. I create stories in my head all of the time to explain why things happen. Not so much natural things (like Greek mythology or bedtime stories about monsters), but I was listening to this guy's album when I wondered ,"what was his story?". His songs fit perfecty in my story. I bet his story is similar, that is when my mind began plotting out the most fantastical story ever. And though I thought, just speculation, and not true, Isn't that basically what all stories are anyway?

I could actually see scenes unfolding and thought, yeah, I need to write all of this down, it is a really cool story even though it is purely, ok, It might be pure fiction, but would I be able to create a good ending? I suppose that is something I will find out.

Not pretty yet, but it will be a song, trust me

You loved the song. You watched the movie. Now, read the blog they were based on.

I thought of all of the ways that I could tell you this, and the most unlikely to ever be heard was this song. Some reason, I'm writing it anyway.

I do not want to paint a picture so unreal that it would never hope to live in a real world. But, I wouldn't mind creating only an imagination of how it would feel to finally be near you. It sounds a little bit unreal, but I think that I would loose my balance and fall if you looked at me. I can't even explain why I persist when being with you seems futile. Every single time I hear a thought generated by your mind, I feel a type of connection that has not been defined yet, but the word Love comes pretty close.

I did fall in love. This world has said that it would wipe out any silly notions of you, but it didn't. Here I am, trying again to live a life, but sadly concluding that it is a life with only one purpose to find and purposefully be with you forever.

An old story I'm trying to recall

I actually think I originally wrote it in a poem, a long poem/short story.

I could do original things back then because I was unaware of the fact that someone else had already done it all.

It was a person reminiscing of the most perfect moment in their life, it was chocked full of artistry that I do not want to try to recreate, because it was inspired. But, I do recall the story, and the feeling of urgency, that it had to be told, or bust! So, because I lost it, I'll just tell the story as I remember it, wihout the literary magic.

Eventually, they settled in on a moment and it was romantic, not a steamy sex scene. This time it was told through the eyes of a woman, though usually I tell my stories as a man. It was one of those epiphimatic moments where like an uncontainable flood of. hmmm, I can't think of a word for it, but if you ever experience it, you'll know what it is. A lot of people call it love, but it is sooooo much more than anything I've ever known as love, but that word will work.

This girl was a dreamer and considered by even herself to be delusional, but at this moment, unprepared. Yet how could one prepare for the unknown, anyway? At this moment she realized that there was a whole lot of truth to those delusions. She felt like a little caged bird just set free, but she didn't want to go anywhere. Instead, she just looked back at this guy and everything that needed to be said was communicated through their eyes.

Finally, I'll mention the hands. People are whole lot more than their hands, but they(the hands) represent doing. So what were the hands doing? Nothing much, like the mouth that was speechless and unneeded. Her hands were wrapped around him in an embrace, with her head resting on his chest listening to his heartbeat. And his hands were on her back. So, why the heck is this so important anyway? I do not know, but it is.

Here is a song I recall performing with my family, Matthew played guitar, Jeffery beat on salad bowls for drums, and I played the piano, naturally. Jeremy was a Frankenstein, and Lindsay played the doctor. This was all done from behind a sheet with a flashlight. Jerm was given a heart and then two danced (special choreography). It was in the basement in GA. I couldn't have been but 12 yrs old. My "piano" was a tiny little electrical keyboard. I couldn't really play back then. I just liked to pretend. Here are the lyrics:

Heartbeat, I hear your heartbeat.
I hear your heartbeat beating to the beat of my heartbeat, baby.

(ok, I only remember the chorus) I do remember other ones where I performed on the actual piano upstairs in our house on Mockingbird Lane.

unfinished note

This is such a long (enduring) note, probably a sustained a1 handed off by various wind instruments who also use the technique of circular breathing.

Dear Beloved,

Is it any wonder I found you? Now, that was so much fun, go hide again.

I even wrote a story about this adventure, only difference was the main characters were a student and a history professor. But, no matter who or when, if the promiximity is there the truth will not be long off in it's discovery, huh?

Woof the woof said woof? Sorry, not hardly romantic enough for your beautiful eyes, Forgive me. I tend to speak what is in my mind using my ability to beautify later. But, your beauty could never be hidden or disguised, in or out of the spotlight. We must hire Ben Folds to write us a song, until he does, my heart will compose the