wide awake

i've been writing a lot lately, mainly because i haven't been able to sleep.



sometimes in very odd situations or at the most nonsensical times,

such as while making a peanutbutter and jelly sandwich
or driving home in a lightning storm
or watching a documentary about the pope at three forty-seven in the morning (right now)

i think i would like to spend my life making music.


that's a rather strange dream, and not because of its impracticality and definately not because of its uniqueness, and not even because i lack any impressive skills on an instrument and dislike my own singing voice, but because i've never tried to write music.

i'll let you in on a little secret about myself . . .
(i'm terrified of failing.)

so i've never tried.


and i'm not completely positive just why i would like to spend my life making music.


i've never been interested in fame or glory or riches. in fact nothing could sound more revolting.
i wouldn't want the rockstar life or my name in lights or anything like that.

i think i'm intrigued by the idea of impacting someone else's life.
and while i realize there are many ways to do this other than writing songs and traveling around playing them for people . . .

the way the right melody can reach through to the very core of someone's being
the way music is a universal language, transcending every barrier that distance and time and money and war can construct
the way a song touches someone so intimately . . . so sincerely
is all rather romantic, i think.



but i think too much,
or so i've been told.