Cigarettes and chocolate milk

I like Rufus Wainwright, I think? 


I know I like Poses, mostly everything on that album but particularly of course the title song. 

I don't know. He's kinda sad, in every way; the way he threads his melodies, resolute and resigned, and his words, so tragic! The last line of Poses: '...no kidding.' Oh man oh man. 

I do worry about lots of things but a constant one that's way up there always bubbling away is being 'outta the game'. I have earnestly chosen to be a musician and to write music and be artistic and try to be successful doing so, and while it would be silly to attempt this without wholeheartedly believing that I could actually do it (which I do), I do give way to certain ideas that fester in the back of my (everyone's!) brain sometimes, that tell me just how deluded I am, how stupid, how self-indulgent - and weirdly, how I've probably already missed my chance, that most people have many more things going for them at 19 years old than I do. 


The brain is a wonderful thing, but it is equally as cruel y'know! God, who was it...it could've been Hemingway, I think, who said something like 'a smart person who is happy is the rarest thing in the world.' I don't quite agree, (and I probably misquoted that anyway) but there is something to it. I think that the smarter you are, the better your brain is at telling you how terrible you are, in weirdly creative ways. In saying that though, it should work both ways - IF you're really, truly smart, you're totally capable of out-smarting your brain when it tries to smart-arse its way through your self-esteem, if you get what I mean. 


See what listening to Rufus Wainwright does to you? I had a good day today, now I'm talking about outsmarting bullying brains.