Mason Jennings has changed my life.

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If this darkness came from light
then light can come from darkness
I guess.

Can't get it right.

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I feel so strongly sometimes.
I feel like my feelings and emotions are heightened..
Like I could cry and then laugh and then cry again.
This is usually caused by a film, or a book, or even a poem...
But more often than not, it's caused by music.
This song says a lot to me- it speaks of defeat.
It feels like the worst kind of defeat, the kind that makes you want to throw in the towel.
Most of us feel defeated at least once a week, maybe once a day.
The thought of giving up definitely crosses our minds, but we know giving up isn't possible.
Not for me at least.

What gets me is when someone doesn't think you understand pain.
How can anyone who is living in this world, or who has ever lived, not understand pain?
We all live with various forms of pain every day- sure we may place value on pain...
"Well my Dad died, well my family left me, well I lost everything I loved."
Pain is pain, especially to each individual. I cannot place a value on my pain compared to yours.
And I won't even try it.

Please understand that what I am going through is just as important as what you are going through. I'll return the favor.



Almost a year Grandma...
I often break down and cry when I think about you being gone.
I break down when something great happens and I want to tell you all about it.
Or when something terrible happens and I need your advice and help.
Or on holidays when I think about how happy they made you.
Or on birthdays when I remember how much you tried to make one person feel so special.
Or whenever I look into Eva's eyes and see you.
I miss you so much.


I can't always get it right, but I'm never going to give up.

I
just
nod.

I've never been so good at shaking hands.

RichDoors

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you got the right sound, reaching up to take em' down.
you're breaking new doors, what you think you're looking for?

The 4onthefloor.

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I'll be mumbling the blues away...

Getaway Car.

Crime Pays

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Everyone knows that crime pays, and everybody does it.

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Where are we at?
I'm still standing in front of you.
You are barely attached to the front of your heart.
I'll enter the barrel of the gun of your own drunk lover's art.
You'll still be facing forward like you wanted me to say I'm sorry.
I'm not.
Never was.
We were screaming silences to the ceiling and bouncing our heads back and fourth.
Shades on with extra tint and large frames to distract the onlookers.
Look at me and tell me that you know who you are.
Then beg and lie and cheat and steal from the house that someone else built.
Not us, but the world around us and the birth givers and care takers and bystanders.
No one is innocent of these crimes.