I've been thinking a lot lately. About life. Jazz like that. And about the undeniable crazy cat lady in my night class who has bright red in-a-box-from-Target hair, with thick bangs, wrinkly skin, hot pink striped socks, and old beat-up, worn-out, old, old, old dusty white reebok sneaks from the 90s. Thinking thoughts like that. And about how the best chips are the ones I save for last; the ones that are all folded over and extra crunchy. And how elbows are often so pointy and good for jabbing people when they least expect it. Maybe in the jugular so I can get that last folded over, extra crunchy chip at the bottom of the crinkly bag.
I miss my great grandmother and I miss my great aunt. And I miss my voice and I long for the times I only hear about: The whole family of 16 crowded around the old organ with someone strumming away on guitar, someone plucking away at the old bass, someone humming away on the harmonica, and countless cool kids singing under my great grandfather's instruction.
But I only hear about it and I only wonder how different my life would be if I were a part of then.
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- Courtney Day
- So, this blog is basically to keep up with people and serve as a sort of release for writing.
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4 comments:
that sounds really nice; I mean nice in the way it ought to be used, not how it's come to be. Nice in the peaceful, "Ah that'd be so nice" sort of way.
P.S.
I was talking bout the musical aspect...not the elbow jabs to the juglar.
hahaha it does sound nice, doesn't it. positively pleasant.
hey, I was wondering, when ya get over being sick, if you wanted to go see another movie. I don't know if you've heard of it or not, it's called Definately Maybe.
i would like that.
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