cut for your convenience.
All I see are dark gray clouds
in the distance moving closer with every hour.
So when you ask, "Is something wrong?"
I think, "You're damn right there is, but we can't talk about it now.
No we can't talk about it now."
So one last touch, and then we'll go,
and we'll pretend that it meant something so much more.
But it was vile, and it was cheap,
and you are beautiful, but you don't mean a thing to me.
Yeah, you are beautiful, but you don't mean a thing to me.
You are beautiful, but you don't mean a thing to me.
It's silly how I find new ways to interpret this song every time I listen to it.
It's also silly that I only listen to this song when I'm feeling lousy.
Speaking of music, here is the "Corinne is on the sadder side of contemplative, but is trying to remain optimistic on some level" playlist:
(That version of Sea Anemone is live, and doesn't do the song justice at all. You can listen to/download it here for free, which I highly recommend. It's an incredible song.)
Things are on a slow and steady ascent. I still have moments where my mind races and my heart sinks, but I've acknowledged that everything will be wonderful again soon, and sometimes that really does help. I suppose my body and my brain like to make my short ventures into depression count, as they occur quite few and far between.
While I was in Hawaii, Holli's boyfriend Matt put PTGui and Photoshop CS5 on my computer. I still haven't really had a good opportunity to play with Photoshop, but he showed me the basics of PTGui. AWESOME for stitching panoramas and tone mapping HDR stuff.
Speaking of photos, a sizable chunk of my Hawaii pictures are on my point and shoot, which Jason accidentally left in Hilo after I left it with him for the remainder of his trip. Holli's parents are supposed to bring it home with them, but they won't be back until the middle of next month. Womp womp.