Words fell from the sky into my hands. Yesterday I wrote like the crazy woman I’ve been called. Maniacal typing for almost 5 hours straight. No idea how many pages or words; I’m working in TextEdit, and that doesn’t have any of those bells and whistles. I wrote until I got light-headed. Either from too much smoke or just too much damned work; don’t know, the words were flowing, the world was spinning and I was just fine until I started to gasp for air.
I am ever so happy to say I can now wipe my ass with the hand that’s used to that duty. Damn! Swapping up is difficult. ;-D But my pain is much less today; I can breathe without hurting, so that’s a big improvement. Just feels good to not say ‘ouch’ every time that shoulder jostles or moves a little bit. I’ll take today down too. Done this too many times to do anything else – move that shoulder too soon and I’m right back where I was on Friday. Nope. It stays down and immobile.
My punk shield has been working well. Descendants can kick just about anything. Not EVERYTHING, but just about. With hyper happy skate punk music and Milo singing about farts or his ass stinging after eating a spicy dish it’s damned difficult to keep a frown on my face. I am a firm believer in the All-O-Gistics of life:
Chant with me: quaw quaw, quaw quaw. And if you’re too square to listen all the way through to get that joke, you won’t know the All-O-Gistics. So here they are:
thou shalt not commit laundry
thou shalt covet thy neighbor’s food (all)
thou shalt not create ties with the scathed (no all)
thou shalt always go for greatness
thou shalt not commit adulthood (all)
thou shalt not partake of decaf (all!)
thou shalt not suppress flatulence
thou shalt not commit hygiene (all!)
thou shalt not have no idea (all)
thou shalt commit thyself to an institution (no all)
thou shalt not take the van’s name in vain
thou shalt not allow anything to deter you in your quest for all (all!)
Punk through and through. Pay particular attention, oh ye of the tribe, to the last line: Thou shalt not allow anything to deter you in your quest for all (all!). Remember that. Burn it into your skull. Tattoo it on your forehead. Fight, fight, fight! Fight everything that holds you back, everything that tells you NO.
Today I’m breaking one of my rules. Up until today, I wasn’t big into sharing music. Because. Because music is very personal. Because I make it myself, but I don’t want to share my own stuff. But it’s Sunday, so what the hell. This one goes to my friend, Blah:
Because if you’re gonna be down, no one fills that musical gap like Bauhaus. ❤
Then there’s the power rock of Queensryche. Check that guitar work. That’s what it looks like to play a fucking instrument. I really want to do a Queensryche cover.
Then there’s the man I want to be, Sven Vaeth:
The woman I want to sing like, Ann Wilson from Heart:
This song, ’cause I didn’t like it at first but now I can’t get it out of my head:
Power material. That’s what’s on my iPod. All the fucking time. Because when I GOTTA go out there and deal, this is the stuff that gets me through. It’s why I walk fast and hard. It’s why I wear that look on my face. Music psyche. My particular blend.
P.S. I was sorely tempted to leave a last link to some of my own work. However, I recognize I’m riding a high and may regret it later, so I won’t.