today is supposed to be the first day of curbside pick-up and i am thrilled!
However, i have spotted the Waste Management Truck and it did NOT go it's usual route and it DID bypass my house.
hmmmm.
So I'm still watching out the front window shade, that is usually shut for privacy, with a bit of anxiety lingering in my limbs.
in other news.
I was forced to think last night while watching a particularly uninspiring and lamentable band.
I tried to coax my thoughts away from the snide comments trapezing around in my head and focused more on the questions.
Do these SEVEN people think that is IMPORTANT?
Are they invested WHOLLY in the message of the music?
Do they feel that it is an enjoyable EXPERIENCE?
and lastly,
Do they think that the sounds they are producing are any GOOD?
This might seem judgmental. I suppose it might be, but not in the sense that i am in charge of or deciding on a verdict.
It was the kind of thing that made me want to spring forth from my seat and flee the scene.
like i was wasting precious moments of my life that i could never recover.
but...being only moments after arriving, i couldn't really bail so soon. so i/we waited it out. Hoping that the first few bars were just a warm-up.
This was not the case.
And, this was not the worst thing I've ever seen or listened to.
It was mostly just unconscious and unaware.
Masturbation that sounded like room temperature milk or cold toast with greasy butter remnants.
Again, some people might like or even LOVE all of the above mentioned items. If fact they could LONG to have them all TOGETHER and if so, they should have been there last night.
Surprisingly, This group carried quite an entourage.. it looked mostly like proud family members and young impressionable teen sorts.
I had seen lead singer at a show in years past. We may have even played together. He was solo and honestly, much more enjoyable.
perhaps, he was lonely.
This act finally ceased their wailing and the next 3 individuals mounted the stage. The guitarist and bassist looked so much like twins that i asked the question of whether or not they were. the answer was no. they were all very thin with self taught barbering skillz and ill fitting sweaters. Their bodies were wavering and soft and hard at the same time, much like the music that they produced. and although i wasn't going to run up and purchase a recording, it was honest. It all fit together. There were no questions.
They were DEFINITELY lonely.
and this left me at this thought here.
What does it mean to be lonely? Is that what every musician is warbling about?
or maybe, it's just about being alone.
BEING.
ALONE.
which is different than being lonely.
There were stories and longing and blame and the simplicity of being together.
BEINGS.
TOGETHER.
a lover's old sweatshirt, the way your college apartment smelled, the sound of the space between the words of dismantling a relationship.
It made me seek a new perspective on my own authorship and why and how i write lyrics.
It didn't make me feel or think that i was better at it. just different.
I have had this experience on other occasions, where, theoretically i should despise the person singing.
yes.
based on my theories.
a quicker and easier way to arrive at pleasure.
i like this.
i don't like that.
but, something won't allow it.
the other part of the theory.
the trump.
Be honest.
Be Authentic.
Show me what you mean.
Mean what you say.
Even if you are afraid.
Even if you are lonely. Even if you are alone.
Like everybody else.
There is no promise of acceptance here.
Just that of witness.
So now i will express my gratitude for this experience.
Thank you, young men and young lady.
If nothing else, you made me uncomfortable enough to question my own motives and routine.
and i am grateful.
Happy Holidays.
P.S. my trash is still here. :(
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