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lyric help and... life changes

February 18, 2003 at 11:35 p.m.

Hey you poets - deep thinkers out there.... lend me your brains!

I tuned my geetar to D just like Pete's so I could sound cool like him (but so far all I sound like is the same chord progression from the Goo Goo Dolls "Black Balloon" and Vanessa Carlton's "Ordinary Day" - both great, by the way) and so now I have this one really great lyric and NOTHING else. I really want to write more, but I'm blocked... what I have so far is

Just another chick with a guitar / don't want to lose myself, but I want to be where you are . . .

It's about how I'm slowly crossing this threshhold into more grown up things and I'm afraid of change, but excited to see what is on the other side...

One idea I want to incorporate in it is something someone said in Institute today...

"Some peple say maturity is putting down your childish things. But I think it's the opposite - knowing when to pick those childish things up."

That really whapped me in the face. I liked it. And the chorus of the song is something like "I just want you to be happy / so I can be happy / we're meant to be happy / maybe the heavens just forgot about me"

Any thoughts? Ideas? the creative process shouldn't be lonely ALL the time :)

*&%$&^#%%#!@$#^%$^%##^%#^@^#^%#^%#^#*^#^#

So imagine you've been working so hard at this one thing your whole life - so hard you've sacrificed just about everything to succeed at it.

Let's just say for the heck of it that it's playing the violin. Hypothetically, of course.

And then imagine you find out that the one thing you've chosen to do with your life - the one thing that you've stuck with even though it has brought you so much pain and heartache - is the one thing your body is not wired to do.

What if you found out that you have a genetic disorder that will stunt and possibly end your carreer as a professional violinist?

My aunt just got diagnosed, and I think I'm next.

It normally wouldn't create a problem for someone - unless they were in my line of work, constantly using these small muscles and pushing them day after day - more so than an athlete. It's something where our ligaments are uncommonly loose to the point where my musicles and tendons have to over compensate to do the job of the ligaments, creating complicatins - and in the case of my aunt, choking a nerve until she found she couldn't even use her hands anymore. She's being treated now, but it's not a condition that gets better. My ligaments will always be this way - it's all I can do to prevent the rest of my arms and wrists from permanent injury from over-use.

In a family full of musicians... huh. that's ironic.

But my aunt never had to play or push at the level that I have to.. and my insanely difficult masters recital is a year away.

,

,

,

,

I don't know what to say. It scares me. The pain and occasional numbness I have in my wrists and arms after practicing... I always just thought it was normal.

And part of me screams to take the chance and run away. Run away from this path that was always expected of me.

Do what I always dreamed of. Not this.

But I can't follow that dream anymore. I had a magic when I was younger. I'd get on stage and sing and act and perform ... and I was magic. People expected me to go on and entertain... but I've played violin since I was 4. It's what I've always done.

All I ever dreamed of doing was singing. And I can't do it anymore. Years of ignoring my vocal chords have reduced my range and . .

Living the life I have has taken my magic away. I get on stage and it's not the joy I used to tap into automatically - painful rememberances of getting booed, the knowledge of the cruelty in the eyes ofan audience can be... I can't be myself anymore because I've been beaten down too much.

And living here without any friends and no purpose besides getting another degree in something that I can't even do very well . . . it's doing something bad to me.

I miss being happy. I have purpose when I have friends. When I can help people. But my friends are in my cell phone. Not in my arms.

And now my arms hurt. Pete has faith that I'm here for a purpose. All I can see is that I'm slowly losing myself because I can't share or give to anyone. No one needs a friend here. No one needs me.

Sorry to get so dreary.. my arms hurt and I'm so scared, everything looks bleak, at least today.

SUPERCRACK doth love thee all

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