I'm humming a threshing song-
"until the night is over, hold on hold on: hold your horses back from the fickle dawn. I have got some business out at the edge of town, candy weighing both of my pockets down till I can hardly stay afloat, from the weight of them (and knowing how the commonfolk condemn what it is I do, to you, to keep you warm: Being a woman. Being a woman.)
But always up the mountainside you're clambering, groping blindly, hungry for anything: picking through your pocket lining--well, what is this? Scrap of sassafras, eh Sisyphus? I see the blossoms broke and wet after the rain. Little sister, he will be back again. I have washed a thousand spiders down the drain. Spiders' ghosts hang, soaked and dangling silently, from all the blooming cherry trees, in tiny nooses, safe from everyone--nothing but a nuisance; gone now, dead and done-- Be a woman. Be a woman."
....
If you know me well enough, you know that when music moves me I get chills. This song does it to me about eight times. I mean, I have a little bit more taste than I used to, fellas. Listen to it. The Song is called Only Skin
I could go on and on! I'm so impressed! I knew I dug Emily, and I knew her first album had potential... Ys is ridiculous.
....
That's all I have to say at this point. I've been reading through old entries. I really got boring, didn't I? As in, I went from one extreme to another. I need to explore more. Certain things are better than others. I need to weed through it and make certain things private and public. If older entries were to fall into the wrong hands (seeing as how I had no concept of what was acceptable and what wasn't from abut age 16 to 18), I'd be fucked.
Go listen to Joanna now. You have to give it a few hours. Well, the "jam" is almost seventeen minutes long. So, I'd say at least two hours. G'night.
R.
But always up the mountainside you're clambering, groping blindly, hungry for anything: picking through your pocket lining--well, what is this? Scrap of sassafras, eh Sisyphus? I see the blossoms broke and wet after the rain. Little sister, he will be back again. I have washed a thousand spiders down the drain. Spiders' ghosts hang, soaked and dangling silently, from all the blooming cherry trees, in tiny nooses, safe from everyone--nothing but a nuisance; gone now, dead and done-- Be a woman. Be a woman."
....
If you know me well enough, you know that when music moves me I get chills. This song does it to me about eight times. I mean, I have a little bit more taste than I used to, fellas. Listen to it. The Song is called Only Skin
I could go on and on! I'm so impressed! I knew I dug Emily, and I knew her first album had potential... Ys is ridiculous.
....
That's all I have to say at this point. I've been reading through old entries. I really got boring, didn't I? As in, I went from one extreme to another. I need to explore more. Certain things are better than others. I need to weed through it and make certain things private and public. If older entries were to fall into the wrong hands (seeing as how I had no concept of what was acceptable and what wasn't from abut age 16 to 18), I'd be fucked.
Go listen to Joanna now. You have to give it a few hours. Well, the "jam" is almost seventeen minutes long. So, I'd say at least two hours. G'night.
R.