Let’s be honest; every great line in every gripping play, thrilling script, or repeat-button worthy song only add up to a collective of ideal situations. They are what they are — just lines. In reality, absence makes the heart wilt, the body numb, and the mind fog. These horrible afflictions are our best defenses. They harden. They tranquilize. They cloak. The silver lining lies in what we make of ourselves in overcoming our own defenses. In allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. In accepting the present and forgetting both past and future. In rewriting history’s greatest lines with ourselves as the major players. The lead roles. The inspiring characters.
Lines are just lines until someone draws the curtain, calls out “Action!”, or lays down the recording arm. If the lines are not lived then they die as empty words scribbled in a notebook.
I have an urge to write something prolific but I just consumed a fairly large amount of alcohol so this will probably turn into a garbled mess of rants. Or maybe it will lead to the next great American novel. Did Kerouac start drinking before he wrote? Or did he start writing before he drank? These are the stupid, quasi-serious topics I debate with myself when I drink. That’s why I rarely drink. Tomorrow morning I will wake around nine and check the social networks I belong to. This post will have probably been fed into my Facebook notes by then. I will cringe at my idiotic questions. I will cringe at the stupidity of the night’s events and why I even headed to the newest local watering hole. I will probably not delete this post, instead remaining optimistic that no one wastes their time on my thoughts anyways.
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Posted in personal
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Tagged a story, dreams, hopes
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Years ago I lent my first acoustic to a friend. He lent the guitar to another friend. I never got it back but last fall I saw it in the kid’s graduation pictures. It looks like it got some use and as for me? Eight guitars and several other instruments later I can honestly say it probably wouldn’t have gotten used as much for the rest of it’s life. Certainly not enough to feature in graduation pictures.
Lost mementos occasionally find new homes. Keep that in mind and apply it in different areas of your life. It makes letting go easier.
Note: If you’re reading this from my Facebook feed, you may want to stop reading here. I’m going to be writing about what direction the site is going in, what will stay the same, what will be touched on more, and what I’m going to be talking less about. Fair warning.
I’ve been writing music oriented articles on Postblink since the site was created. I don’t know if they’re good or bad but they’re my thoughts on what ever happens to be on my play list at the time of the writing. This will continue. Not only will this continue but I’m going to attempt to get more structured pieces together as far reviewing full length releases. This includes an actual rating system. I didn’t do this from the start because I’ve never looked at the site as anything more than an outlet for my thoughts. That’s changing. Judging from the site’s logs, I’m getting hits on albums I’m talking about, new songs, and shows I’ve attended. So I’m going to try being more consistent by applying the rating system. I’m still going to ramble on with my pointless thoughts — they’ll just be accompanied by stars or hearts or bunnies. Who knows?
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After road tripping to more than ten concerts or music festivals, I can officially say yesterday was both the least and most lucky trip I’ve ever experienced. But how can one day hit both sides of the luck pendulum, you ask? Because even my least lucky day usually ends up working out anyways — and so begins the story of the Motion City Soundtrack trip.
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