New Song Lyrics, Etc.

So, I have finally made plans to record a real EP. It will be about three or four songs long and will hopefully be of studio quality (much unlike my other recordings which all have that bedroom-studio feel). The set of lyrics I posted about a week ago will be a part of the record as well as the lyrics you're about to read. Here they are:

Im a Monster (or Me, You, I)
Dont shut your eyes and act like you can't understand
Wipe that shit from your grin, this aint over yet
What made you think that I had gone for good?
Now shes gone and I came back, just like you knew i would

Give me beer, give me food, give me a nice fat cigar
Give me a cheerleader named Sue and the back of my car
Reading, Writing, 'Rithmetic, its all so lame
And what makes us so damn different if we're all the same?

Cause Im a free-wheeling mother out looking for fun
And you know Ill keep it rocking til the morning come
Just open up your eyes and it's easy to see
That the monster inside of you, it's me.
Im gonna drink, Im gonna fart, Im gonna pick my nose
Im gonna check out fine ladies from their head to their toes
What else could you want or expect me to do?
When that monster inside of me, it's you.

Im a Monster!

This song is about someone dealing with the aftermath of a breakup. Its spoken as if in each person there are two entities, one a nihilistic self indulgent "monster" and the other a good-natured and healthy person who in this case is depressed because of the recent breakup. This is written from the negative side, which I suppose is pretty apparent.

Ive been writing alot of songs lately, Im really excited to arrange and record them. Anyone who may read this should keep their ears and eyes peeled for updates on my music myspace and here regarding the creation of the EP. Peace.

Animal Symbolism

That is a picture of a Praying Mantis. The Mantis is a species which takes up residence in various temperate and tropical habitats throughout the world. It is thought to be indigenous to the Asiatic region. They are endangered/threatened in a few of their habitats. In my life before this past week, I had seen only one Praying Mantis and that was a dead one outside of a little league baseball field. In the span of two days, I have seen four separate Praying Mantises.

Considering this odd coincidence, I have decided to look up the symbolism regarding these creepy little things. I found some of what I found to be appropriate for my current situation, though I am no steadfast dedicatee to that realm of belief. Here is a few selections of what I have found:

One article referred to the Mantis as a symbol of deity:

-The praying mantis is the oldest symbol of God: the African Bushman’s manifestation of God come to Earth, “the voice of the infinite in the small,”* a divine messenger. When one is seen, diviners try to determine the current message. In this culture they are also associated with restoring life into the dead. “Mantis” is the Greek word for “prophet” or “seer,” a being with spiritual or mystical powers. The praying mantis shows the way. In the Arabic and Turkish cultures a mantis points pilgrims to Mecca, the holiest site in the Islamic world. In Africa it helps find lost sheep and goats. In France, it's believed that if you are lost the mantis points the way home. "Follow Mantis" means putting that core aspect of yourself, your foundation of Spirit, at the helm and let it direct your intellect and ultimately your life.-

Another article (the one I found more reasonable and situationally appropriate) regarded the Mantis as a sign of stillness and meditation:

-The mantis comes to us when we need peace, quiet and calm in our lives. Usually the mantis makes an appearance when we've flooded our lives with so much business, activity, or chaos that we can no longer hear the still small voice within us because of the external din we've created. Overwhelmingly in most cultures the mantis is a symbol of stillness. As such, she is an ambassador from the animal kingdom giving testimony to the benefits of meditation, and calming our minds. An appearance from the mantis is a message to be still, go within, meditate, get quite and reach a place of calm. It may also a sign for you to be more mindful of the choices you are making and confirm that these choices are congruent.-

Along with the odd number of Praying Mantises, on the way home from the Galleria Mall I spotted a wild turkey in the middle of the road and both on the way to and from New York I saw a deer in the middle of a highway. In fact, one ran right across the road in front of the car I was traveling in.

Turkeys, according to a "Power Animals" website apparently represent:

-Shared blessings and harvest. Another name for the turkey is earth eagle. Turkey is about combining spirituality and the blessings the earth gives us, harvesting and using them to make your life better.

Just because I read this little blurb describing the symbolism of turkeys, I will forever refer to these delicious birds as Earth Eagles. I am already looking forward to November when I can explain to my Grandmother (after she has had a few glasses of wine) that she is in fact eating the Eagle of the Earth. Her response will undoubtedly be, "Oh Nicholas!"

Deer, according to the same "Power Animals" site symbolize:
"gentleness and unconditional love. The power of Deer medicine is that of unconditional love. Only love, both for ourselves and for others, can dissolve the barriers which prevent us from realizing wholeness. Be gentle with others and self."
Again, this animal symbol is rather situationally appropriate. What the hell, why is my life a novel full of animal imagery? Why couldn't I be living in some pulp fiction novel or a Harry Potter book or maybe even a good spy thriller?

Continuing with the theme of animal symbolism, I had a rather creepy and vivid dream during a mid-day nap a few weeks ago. In it, I was at a grill with a gaggle of individuals surrounding me and I was cooking lobster heads. The lobster heads were not cooked through yet so someone suggested that I turn the heat up to "sear", so I heeded their advice and did it. As the heat rose, the lobster heads began to shudder and out from inside of them poured hundreds of cockroaches. They started to fly around and crawl all over everyone who was standing around the grill and people including myself started to scream. Thankfully, that is all that I am able to remember.

Do I really believe in Animal Symbolism? Not especially, I just believe it can be nice to feel as if something is out of our control for once and can rely in the hands of something as strange as an Earth Eagle or as creepy as a praying mantis. Sometimes it's just nice to believe that your life or well being is in the hands of an omniscient, non-personified being. That can be an especially nice feeling for someone like myself who does not have much of a theological faith (or a complete lack of faith, it usually depends on the day).

Another day passes, another entry is written. I leave with a quote:

"Real gangsta-ass niggaz don't flex nuts Cuz real gangsta-ass niggaz know they got em And everythings cool in the mind of a gangsta Cuz gangsta-ass niggas think deep Up three-sixty-five a year 24/7 Cuz real gangsta ass niggaz don't sleep"

-Geto Boys




-

New Song Ideas/Plans

I got around to retrieving the notebook out of good ole Black Beauty which contained a few different sets of lyrics including the ones I spoke of. I re-read the lyrics to the song about ignorance and then read another set of lyrics which I had written a few days prior to that about the splitting up of my girlfriend and I. After a bit of brain-wracking I decided to combine parts of the two songs together.

So now I have a combination of two songs. The first song, which I use a piece of in the final verse is the one about how enticing living in ignorance is. The other is written about not knowing what to say to someone after they've broken up with you and the subsequent feeling of helplessness (which applies when you don't agree with the other person's decision to end it). In combining these two I have created a song which to me represents how nice it would be to lead an ignorant and thoughtless existence, this thought being fueled by the pain that is caused when you know you can't fix a relationship if someone else doesn't want to. It's a bit of a convoluted twist on the old, "Woe is me, I love her, she doesnt me, I wish I could forget about it, but I cant so I wrote a song." Enjoy:

I don't know quite the right words to say
So, I wrote you this song today
I cant help the way I feel
I feel it still...
I feel it still.

I woke up and it don't feel right
Pull the sheets up to hide the light
"Where is the faith?" "Where went the bond?"
I know I was wrong
It's why I wrote you this song.

I'm so tongue-tied
I'm twisted, out of line.

Sometimes I wish I was stupid.
Other times I wish I was dumb.
Some days I wish I was older,
other days I wish I was young.

It should be a really good one, sort of long with a bit of a crescendo. I plan on there being two acoustic tracks, a clean electric and two or three distorted electrics, all five or six of them downtuned a half step. Maybe some organ and bass will be put in there and definitely a drums/percussion track.

I have yet to title the song, Ive always hated coming up with names for songs (especially ones with a more serious or meaningful tone). Maybe Ill just start naming the songs with numbers, that would be a new, fresh idea.

Well, If anyone has a title suggestion or thoughts let me know, leave a comment, shoot an email, send an IM, give a call, whatever.

Numero Dos

I hate to be one of those bloggers who relies on the quotes of famous intellectuals in order to relay his/her ideas more effectively but....

"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music."

That quote is by Aldous Huxley, yes it is the same Aldous Huxley who authored the quote in my previous entry. Stop judging me, I can tell you're judging me. Just because I have two quotes from the same man in two consecutive web log entries, that DOESN'T MAKE ME A BAD PERSON. So, stop judging you heartless judging bastard people judgers, thats right, I mean YOU.

Anyhow, that quote leads me to believe that Huxley may have been a musician. The reason I deduce this is because whenever I am in a state of emotional duress (i.e. this past week) I reach for my guitar and I play. Usually I don't amass much more than one or two decent chord progressions and/or melodies, but it always feels like an anvil is being lifted off of my heart with every pluck of a string, depression of a key, or smashing of a drum. This feeling of relief applies to any emotional state: happiness :-), sadness :-(, anger>:-0, surprise 8-0, or whatever. I always seem to feel some sort of burden magically getting pulled away, as if I'm reaching toward the so called "unbearable lightness of being" every time I play my music.

With all of that being said, I have surprised myself with how much success has come from playing as of late. The typical one or two melodies is an atypical become eight or nine and shockingly I have managed to write a series of lyrics which I actually like. Granted, the lyrics are a bit sappy/cliched but, I think they're honest and that's the most I could ask of myself.

I wrote one set of lyrics today as I sat in my History of Urban America Summer Session Class. We were watching a video about the fall of Cape Verdean dominance in the New Bedford/Fall River/Providence area during the period of urban renewal, a time in which supposed helpful and necessary changes to city trafficking were violently disrupting or even completely obliterating richly populated ethnic communities. The lyrics I had started writing quickly turned into a poem of rhyming couplets about the destructive qualities of trying to escape one's demons by a self-propelled translocation, a.k,a running away from your problems by moving far far away. Id post the whole of the poem here now, but the notebook is in my car and at 1:15 AM I do not have the motivation necessary to go retrieve it. After I finished writing that song turned poem I doodled for a bit. I looked at my professor's metal bracelet on his right hand and tried to recreate the design on it in my notebook. I failed miserably and turned the squiggly line into a G-Clef and drew five staff lines next to it. Needless to say, I was quite disengaged by the film.

After I finished my sketching, I allowed the strong current of my stream of consciousness to carry me around for a bit until I crash landed on a phrase which I had said a few days earlier, "I wish I was stupid." As superficial as this statement may seem, it struck a chord with me and before I knew it I had written a song about the bliss of ignorance and how nice it must feel to be able to live within it's grasp. Again, I would post the lyrics here but they are in my Urban America notebook along with the aforementioned poem. As soon as I can figure out how to record some drums I will finish writing that song and post it on my Music Myspace for everyone to hear. But, that may be a while so maybe Ill put the lyrics up here, maybe not. I don't really care either way and I'm sure you readers don't either.

And so another day passes, and another entry is written.

I will end this post now with a Haiku:

The patter of keys
My eyes are feeling heavy
a Dream World awaits.


P.S.
Haiku Poetry is for dolts...and the Japanese.

P.S.S.
I'm not implying the Japanese are dolts, but rather that those who write Haiku are dolts whether they are of the Orient or not. In that case though, am I calling myself a dolt for writing a Haiku? I suppose not if I wrote it as a satire to begin with. But objectively speaking, if I met someone who wrote satires of Haiku just for personal pleasure I would probably call them an even larger dolt than the person who writes Haiku for the beauty of poetry. Whatever, I suck, Goodnight.

P.S.S.S.
Dolt. I had to say it again.

10 Minute Text

So, I figured I'd kick off my foray into web logging with a writing exercise. I set a timer for ten minutes and I write down anything that enters my stream of consciousness regardless of relevance, grammar, and/or appropriateness. Starting the timer now:

The rocks really dug into my butt, but it was worth it. It was a really nice night, almost three hours talking, felt like less time. I think about you way too much. I wish you'd try like I will. What would love be without wishful thinking? I can never finish writing anything. I can never start writing anything. Maybe this time will be different, I hope so. Tomorrow I'll write a full song. I need to do more work and reading for class. I texted her in class today, wasn't fun. I feel sick about it all, why can't it be the same--how does love just fade? I wonder if my keyboard would sound good if i fed it through my amp, maybe i could distort the organ, that would give a nice effect to the songs, more raw, more real. my lyrics need to be more concise, less verbose, read more of rivers' lyrics. full of cliche but so goddam correct. My frappe was mediocre, all the mint chips sank to the bottom. The gym was fun today, I want to work out more often, maybe ill go tomorrow before class, maybe not. It all depends on sleep I suppose. I hope I dont have anymore armageddon or cockroach-lobster dreams. What would love be without wishful thinking? You told me to do this. I want to get a coffee tomorrow before class. Santow's voice is perfect for oration. I want to fall asleep in those comfortable lean-back chairs in that dark room with the AC. I wrote lyrics yesterday, they were weak. I never like lyrics. Vocal training? I heard something rustling the cup underneath the rocks, I wonder if it was a rat. I remember the rat at Fort Phoenix, it was huge, it looked like a dog. What would love be without wishful thinking?

And just like that, ten minutes of my life have passed by. I do feel a little better now that I've written all of that down, though what does that really mean? I doubt this will be a highly trafficked web log, in fact I've always found blogs somewhat vain. Who cares about what you (I) have to say? Why do you (I) feel the need to share it with the whole of the interweb? I do not have the answer to these questions quite yet, but I can say it felt good to write what little I have and to experiment with the Ten Minute Text exercise. My dear readers should expect more of those to come. I'll leave with a thought:

"By it's very nature every embodied spirit is doomed to suffer and enjoy in solitude. Sensations, feelings, insights, fancies--all these are private and, except through symbols and at second hand, incommunicable. We can pool information about experiences, but never the experiences themselves. From family to nation, every human group is a society of island universes."
-Aldous Huxley, "The Doors of Perception"circa 1954