It’s 12:27 and I’m trying to think of what to write.
I’m not in the mood for short stories, and I feel more like reading.
Hopefully this little blog will feel like a combination of both.
I don’t know why it would… unless I reread what I’ve written.
I’m listening to Gymnopedie 1 by Erik Satie.
I wish I had larger speakers. I also I wish I had an lp player to play this and some other classical works.
I could open up my windows and play it. Some times it’s ok to be “that guy.” If I’m the “guy that always plays classical music with his windows open,” I can absolutely live with that. I love how classical music changes with you depending on your mood. I feel very thoughtful, but listening to Schubert’s Ave Maria (which is actually a different song, but known as Ave Maria), I could be contemplative, sad, or content, and it would enhance any of those feelings.
One of my landlords in
Which leads to my snobby side. And I’m VERY judgmental about classical music, the tempo, instruments, musician’s interpretation, etc. I’ll tell you what though, Ave Maria isn’t Christmas music. I found it on two separate Christmas collections while searching. No sir.
Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole. The end. Oh, and those starbucks cds you can buy with Christmas music that’s new and improved. They took all the old songs we love and jazzed em up and made them BETTER. I seem very bitter for some reason. I could care less I suppose, I still listen to the music I want. I guess it just grosses me out that people like stuff that I hate. I’m sure that’s the same with everyone. Even people open-minded enough not to make a face when someone says “yeah, I like the Jonas brothers. They’re really talented for being so young.” I always make a face. Like when Calvin’s dad is trying to take a Christmas photo of him. Anyone who gets that reference must have had at least a decent childhood. If you had Calvin and Hobbes to escape to, things couldn’t be all that bad, right?
i'm going to go read a short story and do some self-hypnosis.
