the BRUTAL, UGLY truth of my FABULOUS, BEAUTIFUL life.
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7:27 p.m. + 2004-02-17 = over-explanation of recent taciturn-style.
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i've been silent.
it's not that i've nothing to write about, cos i do! (bestest-whisk ever, number of recyclable containers found empty in my room, sistersister listening to my long lost third album prompting me to remember how angry/hurt/brilliant/emo/punk i used to be, the realisation of a tiring formula to new 'charmed' episodes, etc.)
i've been channelling all journal-writing energy into songwriting instead, cos i can't send a valentine's package until i get this bloody song written. tragically, since taking the tacit-approach, every song in the world except the one that matters has been written...oh, and i accidently rewrote a gillian welch song, which i just realised on my listen-drive.*
*listen-drive may be a new term... i'm sure it's self-explanatory. ooo... i could most definitely use another L-word in the mattsonish dictionary.
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comments?? --->[thisaway]--->[[looks to me as though there are...]]---> 0 repercussions thus far
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[prologue] *** [epilogue] ***[plottwist!]
[[erstwhile]] ***** [[forthwith]]
