I dreamed you were a cosmonaut of the space between our chairs, and I was a cartographer of the tangles in your hairs

Words are funny funny things.  We say them, we use them, we manipulate them, we throw them away.  They can injure or heal us, bring us down from somewheregood we thought we were, or open our eyes to an unforeseen reality.  Yet the truth is, when you get down to it, they are meaningless, for they very rarely reveal the true intent or feelings of the user.  Words don’t count, intent does.  Words can lie, intent can’t.  If someone knows, honestly knows what your intent is, there is no way to change that.  Even if you force yourself to change your intent, your heart’s intent still stays down that same path.  

Cause I can’t wait to figure out what’s wrong with me, so I can say “this is the way I used to be.”

 

I’m feeling an urge to blog right now but don’t really know what to write about, so maybe this post will become something at some point.  Maybe not.  I do this weird thing on short drives, i.e. to and from work.  I’ll be in a certain mood and their for want to hear a certain song, or a certain type of song or any song from a certain artist, but instead of going to that artist, song, or genre on the ITouch, I’ll put it on random and then skip skip skip skip constantly until I’m seventy five percent through the drive, and haven’t heard but a snippet of music.  Then I’ll finally give in, and just chose the song, artist, or genre I’ve wanted to hear the entire time.  

They love to tear you down, down, down, Living in this sweet soul town…

There are several reason why I’ll pick a song as one I like, but for the most part what really attracts me, what really makes the song one of my big favorites is grandeur.  I love song that come together in an attempt to move you, because I feel it shows how much effort if really being put into the song.  It’s not just words being thrown out into the world, meaningless and hollow, in an attempt to make some cash.  They convey some feeling, some deep emotion that only you can truly understand, but can be described to an extent both lyrically and musically.  

Adams taking bombs and he’s stuck on his mom, because that bitch keeps tryin’ to make him pray.

I mainly have two platforms of which I listen to music with.  One is my Macbook, one is my ITouch.  Yes, I am an apple boy.  The two work in unison to create an ideal musical environment for me.  This is how it works:  the Laptop (being the faster downloading source with the larger amount of memory) is the music capital of my world.  Every bit of music (sans CD’s) I have is kept on there, and when I’m working on my laptop, or surfing on my laptop, I have it set on party shuffle.

You asked to kiss me goodbye, well you already did-on somebody else’s lips.

So my Itouch is freakin’ me out.  Freakin’ me out big time.  Two times, in two days it (Luke [yes I named it, deal with it, it allows me to say stuff like "nice choice, Luke" when it's set to random and one of my favorites come on, or when it follows a song with a nice fitting/flowing follow up song]) has, while set on random, read my mind.