Recovered from the Wayback machine.
I love music, all kinds of music — everything from Alanis Morissette to Lifehouse to Aerosmith to Sting to Billy Joel to the Beatles to Opera to Swing to classic rock and roll and on and on and on. Everything but disco and jazz that’s too heavy. You name it and unless it’s too extreme or bizarre, I’ll probably like it.
Tonight, there was one song I couldn’t get out of my mind — Rufus Wainright’s “Hallelujah” from, of all things, the movie Shrek. If you’ve seen the movie, you know the song I’m talking about — a beautiful melody that can bring tears to your eyes. Tonight I listened to it over and over again, while I did a little exploration.
I actually found a song about weblogging. Maybe you’ve seen it? It was almost a googlewhack, there’s only two links to it within Google. Part of it goes:
No one’s reading my web log.
No one cares about,
What I got to say, and I’m
Getting’ kind of discouraged.
Hope someone reads it all today.
I might just quit this here web log.
It’s too much trouble to,
Write it every day, and I’m
Getting kind of depressed, now,
Even more depressed than I was before.
Blowing the seeds off a dandelion, watching them get caught up in the wind and dance away, wondering where the seeds will land and if they’ll sprout.
I don’t want to take another step. I don’t want to feel like I’m on a moving walkway that will force me to take that step whether I want to or not. I just want to stay here. I’m in a comfortable place right now or it is becoming comfortable. I don’t want to go out and fight battles right now. I know what is ahead and I don’t want to face it yet but the walkway keeps moving and I keep moving with it. I might have to start walking backwards but I don’t think that will help because then I’ll trip and fall down and I’d be really unprepared for what will come. I could turn around and start running the other way but that option doesn’t get me anywhere because then I’ll have to keep running for the rest of my life. I can’t try to always swim upstream. Someday I’ll see that it is shorter just to swim all the way across the river.
Back to school tomorrow.
I am torn between anticipating and dreading it. How I am ever going to get up at seven in the morning I do not know. How am I going to get used eating on a schedule again? Am I going to survive this year without getting majorly disillusioned with the whole schooling system and depressed. Again.
LOOK EVERYONE! Michelle signed my guestbook! MICHELLE IS THE BEST GUESTBOOK SIGNER EVER! So this entry is just for her.
I blubbed when I heard Marjan died. He held his own through the worst abuses and as soon as he felt loved, nurtured and respected again he was safe enough to die.
Looking back from the perspective of 30 minutes later, I think I have a new verse for “Blowing in the Wind” – something about how long one poet can go. I won’t bore you with the rest – host makes nice comments; hairdresser reads; host lies nice comments…
Can you dream a wish so high as to see it touch the sky and on the eve let it slip into the sea and off to shores unknown and far until the morning comes and offers to loan reality for the dream and real for the unseen?
Down on the wind.
Beautiful music and a web of discovery — it doesn’t get much better than this, does it?