Okay, Karen.
Thread is fail.
One side hysterical woman thinking, drag out all the boxes throw open the lids and sling shit at the wall hoping something sticks.
The other, hypocrites. I can't imagine where you find the time.
You're doing it wrong. I'd show you how, but frankly I at present can't be bothered to find the opportunity. Writingings and recordingings, it's important stuff, sort of but not really, maybe. Bluegrass meets The Beatles meets Pink Floyd(? probably not pink floyd). Yeah, I know. Crazy, but it actually kind of works. The new sound bar(otherwise known as an auditory torture device) is working to more success on the newly acquired dobro than the glass slide, as long as I don't solo that track. You ever in the process of a write just sing gibberish with random words thrown in, and you just know it is going to screw up the perfect phrasing once you start to seriously consider lyric content? Yeah, me too. I've almost considered in the past just leaving as is, hell, it resembles the English language. Then again, maybe it's highbrow thinking, ive heard of sculpturers saying the image was already there, they just had to chip away the excess marble for the reveal. Another i've been working on with gibberish lyrics went something like, "When lightening comes, eh personavere", blah blah blah something something. I realized what wanted to be said was, "When life becomes, the worst of your fears, feeling like you can't go on. When lightening comes, and you're certain you hear, the thunder of a coming storm." Call it whacked thinking, but I think much of the lyrics were there, perfect phrasing, I just had to chip away or rearrange the nonsense to find it. The person I would like to show it to I can't because that person is having a very rough time, somewhat recently got the news of cancer and will think the song is about them. Maybe it is. Don't blame me, the sculpturer, as it were. It just was. Nothing of brilliance, but I have yet to copyright, so do me a solid and don't appropriate.
Thread is going nowhere. Chip away the excess reveals very little other than flawed humanity.