Rehearsal #2 Coming Up

I spent the evening writing down the lyrics for the songs that I'll be singing on tomorrow. Last week I missed so many of my cues because I'm not used to hearing the music the way it is now. It's amazing how much can change with the addition of people. Lola is still providing the basis for the tracks since synths are essentially the flesh and blood of the music. It's odd to think that a bunch of plastic and mental soldered together has made this all what it is for me now. But that's technology for you.

I don't feel that I ever really embraced technology. I wasn't one of those people who lived for gadgets until recently but even then I find myself frustrated by it.

A lot has been changing with the music now and I'm loving the addition of people to this. It's a lot less... lonely. There is and will always be that ever-present sense of isolation that I've never quite been able to get rid of. I can be in the most crowded places and still feel like I don't belong, half the time I don't, but this makes it easier. Part of the reason I could never bring myself to perform in the past was because I didn't want to stand on a stage alone with Lola playing the shit off the sequencer and looking out over the audience.... alone. In a way I still will be, even with Shaun and Bear and whoever else comes along up there with me. It happens that way when you're singing about the sort of nonsense I do. A part of you, the everyday part I think, splits away while the wounded parts stay behind to show themselves to whomever is watching. "See? Look at me. It's here. Right...fucking...here. She may look strong but look at me. Blood. Scars. Bandages. It's all here."

I get to wondering who put those wounds there. Family? Past friends? Current friends? Strangers? Or maybe it was myself. Taking it all too seriously. Pisceans are truly like fish. Have you ever caught a live fish? They feel so fragile when they struggle in your hand suffocating on the air that you yourself need in order to survive. Sometimes I feel like that fish... suffocating. Flailing within the grasp of whoever or whatever has me at that moment. Gasping for something that isn't air and isn't water. But something. Something that I don't know that I'll ever be able to name. Maybe this journey with the music will help me find that thing. Whether it's expression or simply freedom. I don't know.

It's interesting to think about though.