Tuesday, September 11th, 2018
I haven’t posted in a while.
What was my attempt at writing poetry turned into something much more. It turned into a collection of songs that I’m excited about because I feel I can turn it into an album. Despite being musically simple – mostly four chords and poetry – I am hoping to build on what I have now. This foundation has perked my interest into writing more music, learning how to play the piano, buying an electric guitar, and singing.
I used to have no voice. I think I’m starting to find it.
As of today, the album is “92%” done lyrically. Even so, I want to write a follow up.
03. “You’re All I Need”
05. “In the Dead of the Night”
06. “On a Bridge in the Fog”
08. “Come Rain or Shine”
09. “The Silence”
This is one of three writing projects I hope to have completed before the end of 2018. The other two are screenplays that are a part of a horror anthology I am developing. I hope to become more open with the world in the coming months.
Thursday, July 26th, 2018
I’m currently reading How to Read Literature Like a Professor by Thomas C. Foster (because my dream of becoming a professor is most certainly dead) and I came across interesting ideas pertaining to psychology. I’m not going to delve into it, but it is interesting how you can use a book in a classroom and gain insight of the minds of students. It’s like the inkblot test. What do you see from reading the text?
“Oh,” I thought. I could definitely relate to this.
How to Read… – brilliant so far, by the way – points out that a writer’s text could be inspired – consciously or unconsciously – by the events that occur in your life, whether they be from childhood, from the day before, or some idea you thought of. In essence, writing becomes an extension of one’s identity.
I am glad that I minored in Psychology because I understand this logic. Without ranting, I have had trouble finding my identity. It is ever-changing and mutable. At least, when I read some piece of writing from a year ago or years ago, I’ll go, “Wow. What the hell was going on in my head at that time? Oh, yeah. This happened.”
Thursday, July 19th, 2018
I am not talkative. It has been a life struggle trying to be communicative. It hasn’t been a choice. More like personality. I am better than what I was years ago, but I still do suck at it. At least now, I have some charm – like a sociopath – but I still am sometimes socially awkward. I could pass off as being aloof and disinterested when, really, I am exhausted. Having a conversation is just too demanding. It is as if I do not have the fortitude nor the intelligence to sustain a conversation. I’ve improved to the point where I could start off great, then, I would want to fade into solitude until I’m ready again for another short burst of communication – small talk – until I want to fade away once again.
I wish I was more talkative. Only in writing am I really. Probably because I feel safe. There is no need for eye contact. And I may not get a direct response. Maybe I just want someone to listen.
But I have things to say. Sometimes. I really do wish I was more vocal instead. Talkative isn’t the right word. Vocal – especially at work. And just because I am silent doesn’t mean I am not there. It doesn’t mean I’m dumb or I know nothing. I have things to say in response to such ignorant notions, but I am not going to say it. It would seem “unprofessional”. I sometimes think about what two talkative people think and talk about regarding that one quiet person.
Nobody really knows him. He seems different.
It shouldn’t matter. But I wish I could tell them that. That and to be more professional.
Monday, July 16th, 2018
It’s official. I’m a songwriter.
Wait. Hold on.
*Googles the definition of “songwriter”*
According to Merriam-Webster – “Songwriter (noun): A person who composes words or music or both especially for popular songs”
According to English Oxford Living Dictionaries – “Songwriter (noun): A person who writes popular songs or the music for them”
What the hell? Do they have to be popular? Am I not looking in the right places for the definition? I’m not a songwriter then?
You know what? No. I am a songwriter. Here’s my definition.
“Songwriter (noun): A person who writes songs”
Is there another word for it? Am I a lyricist? I’m not going to even bother checking on Google. I am a lyricist.
I’ve written ten songs, enough for a standard album. If I can’t be called a “songwriter” or a “lyricist”, then what am I?
Sunday, July 15th, 2018
Twenty-five years is a long time. Goodbye, Woodhaven. Goodbye, childhood.
Saturday, July 14th, 2018
My mother just returned home after visiting a colleague who lost her husband and four daughters in a car crash last week.
I just can’t fathom losing everything like that in the blink of an eye and being the only one left alive.
I would have wanted to go with them.