perhaps, mother, being struck by lightning is the answer. electrify some sense into your little girl.
Well you lasted a second
You lasted a year
But you were, gone in quite a hurry
And my face hit the pavement
And I walked off the tears
But now baby doncha worry
(i'm writing a country song)
my lack of musical talent is no longer dismaying, and perhaps this will allow me to gain the musical talent i have so long desired.
i wish things i could write things as perfect as joanna newsom. my bones are heavy with the loss of the way things used to be, and she knows the feeling. i am moving forward, and that is good, this forward motion, or that's what i've heard, and i suppose it's true but who says that i am always the one needing advice and that really, i am not just waiting to give you my piece of mind?
our strengths are our weaknesses, and i am learning that i am not made all wrong but just made different and that these traits i hold are not inherently bad, and perhaps even good.
and i am full of anger. i never used to be angry. i don't even really get angry. but i am angry for being allowed to believe that the way i do things is wrong, and that i need to change it.
i am losing my patience. which is silly, because everyone is being patient with me.
i can't make my thoughts clear.