backfire
When some religious human acts on the voices in his or her head, what can result is the exact opposite of his or her psychotic intentions.
:)rickymay
Exciting to see the new political leader. From humble beginnings to a nation’s hope and promise. Congratulations!
:)rickymay
This was made with someone in mind, of course, anonymously. By choice, much of my life remains unrealized.
I wanted to try recording me singing and playing guitar together, instead of tracking each separately.
I like the lyrics of this song, and as usual it’s heart-felt and lonely and hungry but in a nagging way that’s reminiscent of a struggling relationship. This is me taking the quintessential female view of a relationship: the clueless male unaware of the value of the relationship he shares with a frustrated female who desperately tries to argue for awareness, recognition, agreement and solidarity.
monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, friday, saturday too
makin’ it look easy; doin’ everything i do
oh so tragic, no more magic from this work machine
gotta get somewhere else; you know i know exactly what i mean
you’re losin’ me for a while
to make someone else smile
sometimes we are, we want, we need, and we deserve
oh take me far far away, where everything is okay,
it’s time for me; it’s me time
sunday afternoon
sunday afternoon
sunday afternoon
sunday afternoon
network, build and makin’, gettin’ things done without breakin’
the proof is in my reputation, baby take a look
loanin’ sharin’ and returnin’, present, instruct, learnin’
makin’ magic happen, baby who do you think wrote the book
you’re losin’ me for a while
to make someone else smile
sometimes we are, we want, we need, and we deserve
oh take me far far away, where everything is okay,
it’s time for me; it’s me time
sunday afternoon
sunday afternoon
sunday afternoon
sunday afternoon
it’s my one day, perfect sunday my sweet bye and bye
i reserve a time to show respect for me, myself and i
leave a message and i’ll get right back to you real soon
now is the time for me and mine on this
sunday afternoon
sunday afternoon
sunday afternoon
Being cold-blooded has its advantages; wherever I am in the world, I can always find a boiling cesspool or a rock to crawl under. However, when temperatures fall below 25, I light the gas water heater. In my house there are electric heaters and water radiant heaters, and I indulge my gluttonous American cultural lifestyle and use both. Sometimes I try to estimate my household energy consumption as compared to the larger consumer groups of which I am a part, and I ponder my impact on ocean acidification and its resulting species extinction and also how much I am contributing to an irreversibly high atmospheric temperature. I do this for fun.
Notice, in the photo, the heater’s designed-for-the-illiterate-majority control panel. And by the way this is not a promotional for the heater brand, but I will say that I’m happy it’s not the brand that freezes, bursts and floods the area when switched “off” in the winter. That happened to a previous upstairs neighbor; the rain from the ceiling of my apartment was from his destroyed flooded wood floors. Chinese domestic quality, yes? Don’t know and not sure I should care more than I do, as I am definitely outside of whatever’s going on in this world, but I am warm and I have a nice view of the park below where small children play–unaware of how ungodly they are by some human standards.
:)rickymay
how many times did you leave me
how many times did I cry
how many times did i ask myself
why
how many times did you fail me
how many times did you lie
how many times did i want you to
try
try
try
how many ways could i need you
how many ways could you fly
how many ways could i see you and
i
how many dreams have you broken
how many stars shine tonight
how do i know that i’ll make it
right
right
right
lovers not friends
need not pretend
The title means, my friendliness does not mean what you want it to, and it’s a kick at the text-messaging English that is becoming so commonplace.
I wrote this because I had yet another woman interested in me who absolutely was nothing I would even begin to be interested in if I were the last man on earth and humanity’s survival depended on our procreation. To top that, soon followed her gay friend’s fascination with me and assumption of romantic interest.
I was thoroughly repelled by the idea these 2 would assume themselves worthy of me or my romantic interest or anything that accompanies a romantic interest, simply because we were all single. I have had this experience more than I can count on any number of hands or feet, and I’m still shocked that just about any haggard, simple-minded trash with a pulse can see me as a potential suitor.
For the record, chances are overwhelming that you will never, ever interest me romantically, let alone deserve even the slightest interest beyond that which I reserve for any human being of any walk of life.
Maybe if I was fat and stupid and poor and overweight and had bad skin and the social skills of a doorknob and the sexual prowess of my stuffed-animal-humping childhood dog Sparky, I would actually be interested in any of the women (or men) who’ve approached me with the offensive assumption that my single marital status alone qualifies me as equally lowlife enough to get with them. Unfortunately, I suppose, I am not as yet any combination of the above, and I wish I could print that on a t-shirt and wear it or, maybe, maybe write and sing a song about how frustrated and insulted I feel. Wait, I did!
And I don’t kindly reject the assumption and advances of my pursuers, I use lyrics like, “I wouldn’t poke your dead body with a stick,” and I used rhythms I made with my voice instead of any instrument, and combined them with the keyboard’s percussion sounds. The result is cool, and I like that I made the recording ego-centric, with rap-like obsession of my name–repeated dozens of times. Repeating my name keeps it a little unpretentious and even a little laughable, which returns the offense.
I was worried that this song would have listener comments about how insulting and mean it was, but it’s been played and downloaded more times than I expected, which makes me laugh.
I am glad I could sing my life though; this is yet another example of me taking a moment (or many moments) in my life and translating it into melody, rhythm, and lyrics.