Finger Eleven

I want two things. I want just two little things, completely irrelevent to eachother. Thats all. The first, is my boyfriend. The second is love.

I really have nothing specific to say.  I have hit a point in my life where everything is in this weird spot.  Kind of stagnant but not?  Maybe I didn't try hard enough.  On anything.  Maybe I didn't give everything all I had.  I burned the candle at both ends.  Spread myself too thinly?  Who knows.  Whatever it is, things are here.  They have arrived and they're only continuing to come.  So maybe I'm not the kind of person to step in and put up my flag.  Ill just continue to watch things.  Fireworks? Nah.  Some kind of mating of the good and bad.  Definitley not fireworks.

Bathing Suits

What do you think about bathing suits?  It's so confusing.  They're small and short and tight and skimpy, and they try just way too hard.  Fit a whole outfit into 2 by 1ft space?  Colors, patterns, embellishments and all? I don't think I like bathing suits.  I especially don't like bathing suit shopping.  Nor do I like bikinis or one pieces or tankinis for that matter.  I want to create a bathing suit that fits loosely over your whole body, doesn't do any swishing, and doesn't do any clinging.  And then theres the whole issue of shaving and being smooth and silky.  And showing bruises and scars and beauty marks to the world.  And your hair getting wet and getting caught in your suit.  Ah.  Im just going to find a secluded lake and swim naked.

Noodles

Have you ever just floated before?  In a lake or a pool or the ocean or something.   Laid on your back in the water all alone with your eyes closed.  But then you're laying there and you're like, hmm, what if I had a noodle to put under my head, or a tube.  And so you leave your place of comfort to get one and you go back to the water and slip it under your head and then think to yourself, what if it was under my whole body, so you move the noodle.  After a series of moving the various flotation devices you wind up sitting completely above water, floating so that the whole world can see your body, and then you decide that you're self conscious so you get out of the water.  Why can't we just lay in the water?  Why can't we stay comfortable?  Why are we all so restless?  I mean, think to yourself, when is the last time you remained in one spot for over an hour, not watching TV, or reading or sleeping or eating or entertaining yourself.  Just relaxing, thinking, and physically doing absolutely nothing.  When's the last time you just sat there in that comfortable place and thought, with silence as your soundtrack?  

I need more silence and rest.  No more movement or neediness.  All I want to need, is nothing.  

Lavender Sheets

Hilary Duff sings a bunch of those girly moody songs.  Her voice is probably as touched up as a glamour cover yet the whole Hilary Duff thing sticks with me.  You know those songs that remind you of things.  Memories that are remembered with an easy chord progression.  Or when the beginning of a song is actually some song you've never heard before and you lose your grounding because the song was not how you remembered it to be.  Hilary Duff reminds me of lakes and sky and lavender sheets.  Mostly scents though.  Hershey kisses, cat litter, grass, and Fantasy.  Maybe you sit there and shake your head at Duff's Disney background and pop star spotlight, but unless you can associate her with cat litter, there isn't much I can do to explain.  I'm sure you have your Duff music.  Whether it be some old lullaby or a Johnny Cash song about making a car one piece at a time.  Eric Clapton does it to me too.  As does Garth Brooks and Queen.  They remind me of my Daddy's old green mustang with the beige fabric lining.  It reeked of tobacco and jolly ranchers.  The grape ones.  And you know that first song you know all the words too?  And when it comes on you're almost tired of it but not really.  And then you turn 16 and you're like, wow, those are the words?! 

My version of "Another one bites the dust" was a mix of made up words, and filler shrieks and sounds to mock Mercury's flamboyant sense of style.  It wasn't until I got in front of the karaoke screen did i see the actual lyrics and lose my grounding.  I should've listened to my father.  "Don't look at the screen" he said.  

You know when a song has romance.  You know when it gives you that intense fantastical feeling like you're a shedding bearded dragon or something.  And you can assign a scene to it.  Some beautiful future and past conjoined to make the present that doesn't really exist.  And then you sit there at the end of the song feeling empty because the song is over so you play it over, and over, and over, and over again.  Until weeks later the song has lost its magic and you sit there with a dead layer of skin waiting to be shed.  

Don't kill a song.  It takes too long to find one that can recreate the magic.