Showing posts with label blather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blather. Show all posts

Thursday, January 29, 2009

john updike, rip; the blush of 1st dawn creeps, the morning dew, it chills , &

gud morgen. wie gehts? bleh. it seems so uncivilized to be up every day before the sun, like right now. shouldn't a person wait? after you? el sol: the king: seems almost impertinent to go 1st - but obviously i'm being ridiculous & also very bourgeoisie cause how many people have no choice?? so i justify since at this life-stage i am privileged & therefore can say i just don't like it... john updike died this wk. in undergrad days (ha - so snobby, that sounds) i loved updike, which was weird bc he wrote mostly so specifically about the frustrations of the american male. maybe it's cause i've always thought i was sposed to be male, but that 2nd chromosome just kept growing (boy, it IS early) (tho i think many females feel that way here & there, since the society's built for the view of & to appease the male)... i loved updike's specificity, the way he caught the ugliness & shimmer of everyday life. i guess that's that.
good gravy; hurry up, toast.
what the heck am i doing on here? waiting for my toast, drinking coffee, standing up thinking then i'll type less that way, typing at this ridiculous, cumbersome, child-sized keyboard, trying not to feel sick... needed to check if the fellows could do a gig (they didn't call back; story of my life) (well, phil did, good old philbert) & must save time! must always save time! oh, i hate those metaphors; makes going thru life (there's another one) seem like empty commerce. stressful!
- well, at top are lyrics for a song i wrote but i pulled from esnips bc it's for a male to sing. so of course i tried to sing it, but there's no amount of smoking or forced coughing that can bring my vox down to the appropriate register. so it's gone. but i was pleased w/the weird little storyline of this one, called "when they find me," kind of a gothic unrequited love thingy set in a delano grape vineyard, like maybe even the one that used to be in front of our grandparents' house, & the pleasing thought that a story CAN be told in a 2-min song. i've known it, just never w/story so fully in my head. since then, there've been a few more, & maybe the band will learn some of them, but if we don't, i have them, & they keep coming, like little gifts (tho sometimes it's a necktie or a lump of coal).
toast's ready. i hope my skull & sinuses stop burning.