After being asked to check it out by a friend, I now have a tumblr page (nightingale13.tumblr.com); just thought I'd let you guys know.

Also! I got the new White Stripes tour documentary, Under the Great White Northern Lights, which follows them across Canada. I have to say, it's a pretty entertaining film. I particularly enjoyed the "one-note show". There was also a lot of good music, naturally, though very few songs were presented in anything more than momentary snippets; however, I think it was pretty interesting to hear this montage of Stripes music. Plus, no matter how late you start into it, "Icky Thump" is always good.

So yeah, if you're thinking about getting any music-related movies or you just want a nice live album, pick up the DVD or the CD album. It's good. I promise.

I'ma be a normal member soon. That will be interesting...

*Update*

You may or may not have noticed that I have removed you (and a number of other deviants) from my watchlist. Do not be alarmed. Do not take it as a personal insult against you or your art. I have simply decided that I watch too many people and either A). They don't produce work anymore or B). I have no further interest in their work.

The worst thing I think I could do is fake it. If I'm watching you, but I'm not really actively watching your art, that would be wrong. If you feel that you don't want to watch me anymore because I stopped watching you, then by all means take me off of your list. I'm not really worried about losing watchers anymore. And I encourage anyone who feels they don't really watch me to take me off of their lists.

I may or may not continue trimming down my list. I've gone from about 140 friends to 90. A large percent of them might still be people I'm not really watching. I'm tired of feeling guilty about not reading/looking at someone's work. Ever...

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The end of my sub is coming up. I have to say, it's been fun. I'll have to try and get a new one if/when I get a job (the main issue is not where I would like to work, but where I would not die at work). Many thanks to for giving me the sub; it was very surprising and selfless. I'll have to do some massive feature for my last skinned journal.

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On this day, March 13, 2010, I finally acquired something I've been hunting thrift stores for months now; something that I've wanted for a very, very long time: a vinyl record player!



Naturally, that doesn't excite too many people, I bet, but if you're someone like me, an "old soul" as my mom puts it, then you might know just how excited I am. My next step is to buy a bunch of LPs and such, but I managed to rummage a few things from the used bin (rather random selections, mind you) such as:

A Johnny Cash single ("Big River" b/w "Come in Stranger")
Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits
and an Andy Williams comp (simply because I love "Born Free"; you can thank Showtime's Dexter for that).

So yeaaaaah, I'm a bit of an anachronistic audiophile... It's nice to hear genuine, crackly music though.

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>.>

<.<

[link]


JIMIIIIII!!

That is all, thank you.

Here's a bunch of unfinished material/early lyric drafts I've built up in my scraps gallery (and you can see more if you just go to the scraps section of my gallery). I'll pull out a few of the journal pieces I have yet to submit/finish too.

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Carousel

<sub>Walking to you far away
Can't hold my candle to the light of day
But I try anyway, I try anyway
Speaking in tongues I don't know
Can't see you against the candle glow
But I try anyway, I try anyway

And all the words wrapped around a carousel
say to me, "Help me find my way to another side".
And all the years I've been floating down
I fall from the merry-go-round...
Help me find my way in a spinning wheel.</sub>

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From February 25, school notebook

<sub>Chasing circles that don't exist
Trying to forget, but not forgive
Walk home, Johnny, walk on home
Walk home, Johnny, walk alone

Waiting for God, but not for a gift
Laughing at nothing; knows this is it
Walk home, Johnny, walk on home
Walk home, Johnny, walk alone

When the traffic stops flowing,
dive right in the middle of it.
When you don't know where you're going
just let yourself dive right in the middle of it.
It's the ocean of a faceless people,
just dive right in the middle of it.

Chewing the cud of after-thoughts
'Tastes just like chicken,' they always said
Don't taste it, Johnny, don't taste it
Walk home, Johnny, walk on home</sub>

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Early lyrical draft for "Dear No One"

<sub>I want to talk to no one
I don't want to be a pest
I want to talk to no one
Let in a little secret

All I want is to live
With no worries
With no regrets
I want to feel alive
It's not about the money
It's not about benefits
All I want is to live

I want to talk to no one
Feel the scars begin to heal
I promise not to bother anyone
If you help me know what to do
All I want is to talk to you

All I want is to feel
Something real
Something new
I want to feel alive
It's not about me, really
I think it's about you
All I want is to live

Hear me now...
Hear me now...

No one hears me speak
No one hears me cry
No one will hear me break
No one will hear me die

Hear me now...
Hear me now...

No one hears me speak
No one hears me cry
No one will hear me break
And no one will hear me die...</sub>

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From school notebooks, March 2

Microwave Ovens Are of the Devil

<sub>It shouldn't take too long to thaw them in the sun.
You know, those, um... things you used to use so much.
All the best candies must come from the Cardiac Factory
and if they all do, what kind of candies do you give to me?

----------------------------------------------

I hope you understand, even though my
left-handed letters tend to slant to the right.
And my vocabulary is usually
centered around one or two feelings,
sometimes even less.

----------------------------------------------

Microwave ovens are so convenient,
but there are those who say they're of the devil.
I guess, having no fire, but having so much heat,
I can expect nothing less than to be persecuted.

----------------------------------------------

I died on my birthday,
will be bring presents to my funeral
even if I don't come?
I tried to say something,
but I must have lost it in the crowd
when I saw you run away.</sub>

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From journals, February 16 9:27 p.m.

Apathy

<sub>Well I was stuck in the past
and I didn't care about anyone around me;
things were starting to change too fast
and I was left on the threshold of nothingness.
I was on the verge of losing you.
I was on the verge of losing you...

Well I was stuck here within
the corners of my prematurely aging mind;
I've lost it all to my Sick
and I'll have forgotten about everything in time.
I am on the verge of losing myself.
I am on the verge of losing you...

I was born walking on eggshells
I was raised on my knees
I don't care about anyone else
I don't care about me
I am looking around with my eyes sewn shut
and when I speak, no words come out.</sub>

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Well Well Well

<sub>Do you see your life through a stained-glass window?
I've seen several atrocities committed in the name of God;
how must He feel being honored in such a way?

Do you see your life through coffee-stained eyes?
You know what it's like to feel the aftertaste of suicide
despite never knowing Death personally.

With eyes wide open sewn shut
With lies tried often enough
Well well well
It's not good enough

Do you write about your self-proclaimed madness every day?
How can you know the struggles of the yesterday
when you don't even know your own?

Do you feel you are better than what you've let yourself become?
Vanity will kill you, pride will smother you, apathy will eat you away
and you won't have any love left to save yourself or anyone...

With eyes wide open sewn shut
With lies tried often enough
Well well well
It's not good enough</sub>

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Shuffle Is a Great Option to Have (When You Don't Know What to Do with Yourself)

<sub>I think I've become dependent on the life I live in this little cup,
swirling in the aroma-therapeutic fluids of invigorating power;
I call to you and you don't answer; I call to me and I don't answer either.
When, oh when will I wake up from the dream that threatens to kill me?
When, oh when will I learn to live this life with contentment before it kills me?

My world has been positioned for so long in this music box
that I've become a hollow shell from which the atonality emanates;
you know the screams of a man who died before he was dead?
Well, they've become my nectar and my essence;
they define me better than I ever could...

I've written countless words that should never have struck the paper;
they don't mean anything and neither does this.
Well well well, the lad has woken up from his little nap
and he's complaining about his dreary little home once again.
Well well well, the mirror in your eyes doesn't reveal everything after all,
at least, not to yourself. You'll still lie to yourself about your true feelings.
You'll still take the boulder upon your shoulder
that once broke the back of the man who didn't let himself exist.</sub>

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Unfinished & Untitled song beginning,

_{It's not a new kind of message that I teach.
It's not a new kind of music that I sing.
It's not a new way of life that I preach.
This is just me and this is what I say...}

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February 28 2:50 p.m.

The river flows both ways, my son
The river flows both ways
Gonna float down it all your days, boy
Gonna float down it all your days
Steer clear of the waters that hide what lies beneath
Steer clear of the waters, boy, if you don't know what's underneath

The boat you have is your life and bread
Don't ever let it down
Don't ever lose sight of where you tread
Don't ever let it down
The life you lead means so much to me
Don't ever let me down
Don't ever give up what you could be
Don't ever let me down

The river flows both ways, my son
The river flows both ways
Gotta find the way to sail across
Gotta find a way to cross
Stay away from those who swim in poison
Stay clear of waters, boy, if you've never been...

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As you can see, I've been a lot more productive than a lot of people with the same level of "writer's block", but I can't say I've written anything good. There's actually a lot more in my collection, but I don't feel like posting more. Typing is tedious.

Stamps

Lately (like, the last month or so) I just have not felt the desire to write too often. When I do write, it's either extremely crappy (by my standards) or I just don't feel like posting it on deviantART. Whether I'm uninspired or just melancholic, I don't really know, but I can't seem to express myself at all and it's killing me. I don't think the community at large has been affected by this, but I apologize to all of my watchers if you actually enjoyed reading my work; I miss it, too.

I just don't feel great, I guess.

has published its first zine and I want everyone who reads my journals to go over and check it out NAO.