Finding A Feeling

“Cause they’re just spies…(Guitar strum)”

I wonder what the song means.

Most of the time, when I hear a song, I don’t really listen to the lyrics, or allow myself to take them in as much as I wish I could.

What I listen for is the feeling behind each pitch, or tune, beat, the resonance of the voice.

I’m currently trying to decipher Coldplay’s “Spies”. I thinks it’s beautiful. For the past two hours, I’ve been trying to figure out a song, or something to coincide with how I was feeling, because I didn’t know what what I was feeling, and that’s scary.

Sometimes a feeling comes to you like a stupid blow in the face when you least expect it while doing Calculus homework and it just destroys your brain, which is of course connected to your heart, which is supposedly the place where you feel (but I think it’s the brain that really feels. Heart vs. Brain: worthy of discussion.) So sometimes I have to forcibly mask my face with a sort of cloudy expression of nothing. Unfortunately, my parents can see right through me most of the time so it doesn’t exactly work, but at least they don’t confront me about it right away and give me some time.

It sucks when you’re sad and you have a lot of other things on your plate that you have to finish, but the thing is, I’m full. And I only just started eating little bitty crumbs of the plate (metaphor for completed 2 problems from my homework).

So now I’m pooping, metaphorically speaking. Writing is like pooping, you know what I mean? At least in this case. It replenishes all the bad stuff/waste and makes you feel fresh again. You can stand up straighter now, you can stop feeling that tight bloated uncomfortable hit in your gut, because the poop is all out. Ah, starting anew.

That’s why I like pooping. That’s why I love writing.

I need to finish Calc. Homework, which is making me sad because I just want to write, forever and ever and ever. I want to sing Coldplay forever and ever and ever. I want to make music and tell stories and feel forever and ever and ever.

I want to be weird forever and ever and ever.

napolean dynamite

Hey, I just figured out something really cool:

Keep Calm

and

Poop On.

 

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