Well, well ... / Well, dear reader(s), I haven't been doing Hell Week, exactly. I mean, it can't really be done without an instructor screaming at you 24/7, BUT(!) - 'I can do that for you, boss!' Shut up, idiot!
BUT(!) ... I have been pushing myself this week harder than ever before. When I haven't been blogging, I've been playing guitar and singing.
I've been making a big effort. Very big.
...
I'm reading Can't Hurt Me for the third time.
...
My anxiety is down. Take my advice, kook(s): you need to be on a mission.
...
Oh, I was rehearsing Nothing this morning. I still think it's the greatest song written by anybody. Seriously! I have to be careful not to play it too fast, though. I get excited, man. / Listen! I've tried describing it in the past. Think of a lively Beatles song like maybe, uh ... We Can Work It Out. [Beethoven? Beatles make more sense.] Imagine it's 5.00 instead of 2.15, and then imagine that one of Shakespeare's soliloquies has been set to the tune. [I've mentioned Shakey before.] 'Ha!' Yes, yes. And, oh, of course ... imagine that it doesn't sound totally ridiculous, man. That's what it's like. Maybe. I don't know.
...
It's not a ballad. Most of the best songs are ballads, I reckon.
...
This is the last post of the week. I'll be playing some tunes in a while.
...
This post is a bit fragmented, ain't it? Never mind. I feel different, you dig?
...
A bit confused.
...
No. I'm not playing loads of tunes, or even a few. I'm in the mood for the first movement of Beethoven's Ninth. And that's all. 'Which recording, Mikey?' Don't be an idiot, idiot! 'Oh, Karajan, 1977.' Yes, Voice. Yes!
...
Later(s), alligator(s).
BUT(!) ... I have been pushing myself this week harder than ever before. When I haven't been blogging, I've been playing guitar and singing.
I've been making a big effort. Very big.
...
I'm reading Can't Hurt Me for the third time.
...
My anxiety is down. Take my advice, kook(s): you need to be on a mission.
...
Oh, I was rehearsing Nothing this morning. I still think it's the greatest song written by anybody. Seriously! I have to be careful not to play it too fast, though. I get excited, man. / Listen! I've tried describing it in the past. Think of a lively Beatles song like maybe, uh ... We Can Work It Out. [Beethoven? Beatles make more sense.] Imagine it's 5.00 instead of 2.15, and then imagine that one of Shakespeare's soliloquies has been set to the tune. [I've mentioned Shakey before.] 'Ha!' Yes, yes. And, oh, of course ... imagine that it doesn't sound totally ridiculous, man. That's what it's like. Maybe. I don't know.
...
It's not a ballad. Most of the best songs are ballads, I reckon.
...
This is the last post of the week. I'll be playing some tunes in a while.
...
This post is a bit fragmented, ain't it? Never mind. I feel different, you dig?
...
A bit confused.
...
No. I'm not playing loads of tunes, or even a few. I'm in the mood for the first movement of Beethoven's Ninth. And that's all. 'Which recording, Mikey?' Don't be an idiot, idiot! 'Oh, Karajan, 1977.' Yes, Voice. Yes!
...
Later(s), alligator(s).
