Category: music

Red running through my soul.

I want my hair to be

a deep auburn red,

my eye’s sparkling blue

and glittering shoes.

I want a red lace dress

that clings in all the right places

and twirls over my hips.

I want to dance.

I want to feel the beat in my soul,

slow and sensual.

I want to become lost

in the notes as I

dance through the words.

I want candles flickering

in the moon light,

as the sky weeps for

the dying stars.

I want to dance.

Songs of lazy past.

I woke up this morning with this song drumming away in my thoughts. It’s been festering there for a few days now, softly humming away in the background of my chaotic thoughts. I don’t listen to music no where near as often as I should. I’m too lazy. Too lazy to switch the TV on and find a music channel that is pleasing to my ears, too lazy to sort through my CD collection and hunt out the tunes that my soul wants to hear and too god damn lazy to switch on the radio. Even Youtube is unable to entice me into its simple notion of a world of music. In a world where technology is at our fingertips I find myself becoming lazier than ever. I’m patiently waiting for the technology of the future to become the present. I long to be able to sit and think about a song and it simply appears there playing in my ears, then it’s gone as my desires slip into a new thought, a new image, song, movie.  However it’s a laziness that does nothing for my creativity. As I sit here now listening to the songs that got me through my teenage years, the songs that held me as I cried tears of a broken heart and the tunes that carried me bravely into un chartered territory, I feel stronger than ever. I feel my mind creatively exploring a depth of emotions that have laid dormant for many years, and like the words on the pages that I escape into I can feel myself escaping into the words sung, the music played and the memories held that only I can know like a secret dance between only myself and the universe. It’s just like that, a secret memory between myself and the universe.

A place where I can escape to anytime I need to, anytime I want to and there in my mind as the songs of my past play out I relive those days, those nights, those stolen kisses, those moments that can never be taken away from me.

Where you see rain I see pots of gold.

I do not ask to be joined,
Just set free to do.
I do not demand that you hear,
The beautiful song, that beats in my ear,
I do not expect for you to feel,
The beat that I dance to, that is so very real.
I know you cannot see,
All the things that make me free,
All I ask,
Is that you let me,
Be.

100 Days of happiness, condensed.

I love,
I love random smiles from strangers,
And good morning salutes as the sun rises and the day starts.
I love red sky at night and red sky in the morning.
I love a moon that is barely a slither,
I love a quarter moon,
I love a half moon.
I love the moon.
I love the stars that freckle across an evening sky,
a morning sky
and a deep, dark, night sky.
I love daisies,
I love daffodils,
I love yellow,
orange,
red,
Pink,
blue,
green,
black,
I love purple.
I love werthers originals and murreys mints,
i love spearmint flavoured mojos.
I love happiness, happy people, happy smiles.
I love strength, no matter who the person is.
I love honour and truth.
I love words,
the power they have
To communicate,
to tell,
To express,
To reveal
And even to hide.
I love warmth, socks, hats, scarf’s, gloves
I love autumn,
I love a warm earth and a chilled air,
I love snow,
The silent echo,
The soft fall,
The hushed, crunch
The rosey cheeks.
I love hot baths to warm me,
To sooth me, to calm me.
I love the radio.
I love to sing, loud and out of tune.
I love cats,
I love the few hours if restless sleep I get,
I love laying in bed warm beneath the covers,
I love silence,
I love noise,
I love calm and I love busy.
I love me.

Remembering who I am.

With so many things happening around me I feel that I am losing a sense of myself. This is the very ‘self’ that I have worked tirelessly to rediscover, and the thought of losing sight of it is devastatingly cruel. I’ve spent days thinking about ways that will allow me to keep my identity in a society that seems so bloody hell bent of stripping me of all originality. I haven’t found the answer. I have discovered that even though I don’t know the words to many songs, and I don’t like bands, forget buying me an album it’ll stay in its little plastic wrapper gathering dust. I love music, I love the lyrics they resonate with me, they remind me of the past, they make me think of the future. Music is part of my soul, a part of me. Today i’m gonna share this song…

I love this song, the beat, the words, the memories. Everything about this song makes my soul sing.

This song reminds me of when I was a teenager, one specific guy, a wanna be biker who thought he was the bees knees.

I was maybe 15 he was 17/18. He had all the charm and a bike to match. A nice bike, a very nice bike all chrome and black he clearly thought he was gods gift as he rode along the country roads. Of course I was fooled by him at first, who wouldn’t be? He turned out to be a typical poser looking for a trophy on the end of his arm. He’d take me out on the bike to bars and show off his gothic girlfriend. I was young and impressionable, but I wasn’t stupid. It didn’t take long for the real him to appear, telling me to dress a certain way, wear my hair, just, like, this. Well we’d been dating a few weeks when he decided to make a pass at a close friend of mine. We had a show down, in a supermarket car park. I thought that was the end of it all. I got drunk with friends, laughed and forgot all about him, Till I got home. There on my couch balling his eyes out to my Dad was this guy. Telling my Dad that I was the love of his life, asking my Dad for my hand in marriage. Crying because mean old me had dumped him. My Dad looked up at me, asked what happened, I told him. I swear I felt the air turn blue and a static charge fill the air as my Dad laughed, and laughed and continued laughing, until finally telling the guy to ‘fuck off outta here you fucking cry baby, you wanna grow yaself a pair balls mate!’ Ha ha ha my Dad rocks!

I hear so many people saying that they wish they could forget the memories of the past, but, the memories are what keep me alive, they remind of who I am and who I am not. They are a key part of my evolution.