connection
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I think people see me differently than I see myself. it’s like I see myself as a giant fuck up, but now and then, here and there, I don’t know, I get the feeling that I matter. I feel this way when I’m playing and singing in group or some hole in the wall, even…
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yesterday I swapped the everyday for staying at home, to hum and strum, and make music without being noticed. a day by myself, to do only what I love to do the most. I didn’t feel lonely, or miss anyone, or wish I was somewhere I was not. some might find that sad. but why is allowing myself,…
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some nights, when I’m perched on a stool with just my guitar, keeping a little crowd fixed (or at least I hope), it hits me: the only time I don’t feel like such a fuck up is when I’m making music. or playing it for people who care. choosing to be an artist is really…
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playing notes is the basic idea of music. but it’s an impression, and just a shallow one. it’s not enough to play the notes. what I really have to do as a musician is everything that is not in the notation (which by the way I can’t read anyway). the same way I need time…
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I never know exactly what poets and lyricists mean when they refer to an angel. often they’re writing about someone they’re just really into, and sometimes an angel in Heaven’s Holy Host. sometimes we call someone an angel to affirm the light in that person. I like this designation: that somebody not apart from life on this earth can bring you a light, sweep air…