once
Funny, I started writing a song about myself thinking it was about someone else. It's hard to write about things that are past..or rather, it's hard to write about them as though they were present, because I'd never have written anything while I felt as though words would bring some imaginary glass house down around my feet. There was no reason for silence except the illusion of...I'm not even sure what - a right, a place, a position, a name, a comfortable explanation for something that was more than I would admit to myself - to me, at any rate. I'd try to understand why I was miserable with exactly what I said I was happy with and be unable to form the questions that drove at my mind with a dull thudding.
And yet I didn't want anything like that; I wanted something that doesn't exist, and it is past tense, and it didn't ruin things, and yet I'm writing it present tense, and yes, I remember very well how it felt to wrap in on myself and not see the world.
On a slightly shallower note, I sat on a bed and looked at myself in the mirror the other day. I like my hips quite a bit. I mention it because I thought, at that moment, how I was missing blogging, and perhaps I could blog about sitting in front of the mirror thinking about hips and blogging. I don't know, it was a funny moment. I'm drinking a little too much coffee and practicing like mad. I'm pretty happy as I just hit the ' this piece is really cute' point again, which argues that it's getting better.
I think I might change the tenses.
