music is running through me. pulsating. i'm changing from day to day. moment to moment. a real case, i suppose. makes it hard to focus the feelings long enough to produce. i need to produce music and it frustrates me that i'm at a roadblock. i psych myself out, wig out a bit. i stop. step back from the keys. put the guitar down and walk away. this has been the pattern the last week. nothing turns me on like lisztomania & fences by phoenix, the reeling & little secrets by passion pit and pull my heart away by jack peñate, especially. i've grown incredibly fond on the artist. the fellow musician. every atom of my being is moved to make it. sing it. write it. create it. play it. it is me and i am it.
sometimes when i'm driving i give the player a rest and turn the radio on. a second chance, i guess you could call it (the radio let me down last time. in actuality, it has let me down every time. clockwork. lame music, empty sound. and they call that hip-hop? they don't know what hip-hop is. or they forgot. or where collectively brainwashed by crap for music. at best, living under a rock). my ears quickly bleed. i turn the radio off. it's back to the unknown gems, mainstream radio's loss. my infinite gain.
i'm neglecting the keys in the next room. they know it. they feel bad. i feel bad that they feel bad. i want to make them happy. i want them to make me happy. if i can give radio a second chance, we can most certainly can give each other a second chance. let's try this again, shall we?
