words to the page.

So I am writing more. That's a thing now-- FYI for those keeping up. I've got a bunch of little film ideas and beginnings on my computer but for some reason what's striking me right now is writing songs. Well, song lyrics more specifically. And parody songs because I think I have some funny things to say about life after being introduced to this song by my girls when I was home.

Anyway, when I started a document tonight called "Song Journal," I had a quick-but-vague memory of a previous document with the same title. I did a little searching and I found the mother load-- a huge file filled with some pretty complete songs along with all sorts of disheveled ideas that kind of read like weird poetry. Though years old, I did find some that I actually think will be potential starters for new songs which I will conceal for now. What I will share, however, are a few unedited snippets that amused me and probably won't turn into anything further. Have a laugh, have a cry, and maybe even try to take a guess on where I was in my life when the words were initially penned.

***

I wanna live off breakfast food

Under a starkissed sky

With the morning moon

And you tickling my arm

High every single day

Off the joy that you wrap me up in

When you’re tickling my arm

But more than that, I wanna pass that comfort onto you

And I will gladly scratch your back

Enveloped in our comforters

Wearing nothing at all but each other’s smells

Even when we don’t smell good, you’ll still smell good

And no matter how tired my arm gets,

I’m gonna scratch your back

If we could swim in oceans

Of the ideal temperature

You know, we shriek because we’re cold but won’t run out ‘cause we’re too warm

And laugh so damn much

We have these bomb ass six packs 

Though we never even did a single crunch

Yeah that would make me happy

Let’s pop bubble wrap together

But if I ever scratch too hard or to the point where you go numb

And you start to feel antsy instead of perfectly content

Then you just tell me

And I’ll rub your head

Or tickle your arm

Or just hold onto your hand. 

***

I like the love

But I don’t love you

So stop misinterpreting me please

Maybe when I go you’ll realize

Then come chasing after me

Show up on my doorstep

With flowers

Just like in the movies

But I doubt it cause it’s you babe

Did you steal my pillow? I can’t seem to fall asleep.

***

I had this friend who went for 65 days

With half of a front tooth

From a drunken accident

And somehow still she sparkled

I wish somedays that I’d been born without a single pretentious bone in my body

And the ability to dust off every kid’s judgment

But it’s me and I care and I’m starting not to care

If you care cause it’s me and I don’t care about you

Anymore, If I care

Then all of you will find a me that isn’t even really there

And I’ll still care (but I don’t care)

There was this girl who never cared

And though I can’t stand cigarettes

She looked nonchalant and cool when she smoked

Pretty rough, but really pretty

She exuded part of what I want to be

She didn’t care

Head to toe, designer names, I thought I’m too cool for her,

Who the hell does she think she’ll impress here?

Secretly maybe I thought “well, she’s too cool for me”

But it turned out

She was so damn down to earth

More money in her bloodline than my bank account could fathom, but besides the clothes and shoes, I had no idea

***

It’s a struggle to be different

When different is the same

A tornado round in circles

Demanding dirt to tell it who’s to blame

But the blame just isn’t placeable

She’s got nowhere to drop it

‘cept upon her tiny shoulders

or softly on her mothers back

where it belongs

***

I drink you in, you fill me up, more satisfying than that blue Montana sky

I’d rather have the wind ripple over me than a satin sheath or gown

Paint me by and ocean or a mountain or that lakeshore

All I want’s a boat

***

It’s the color of her hair

I think it’s pretty but my friends assure me mine’s a better shade

Although, with them I must agree

That her skin’s unnaturally

Tan.

But still I wish I thought

that she

was stupid and ugly

But I know that you know better than to waste your time on nonsense

Even though she’s a little racist

And probably

Calls her sorority sister things like

“what up bitch” and “I fucking love you whore”

Ew.

***

Coming soon (if I have the balls, that is)-- the parody song I wrote to the Cup Song from "Pitch Perfect" about all of my exes. Muahahaha. Ooh! Also I am recording some original music [not mine, but still pumped] on Monday. More deets later, gator. 

Is anyone still reading this? Tonight, half hoping the answer is no. Off to work on my New York accent. 

xxo.