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"Life Like Weeds" by Modest Mouse
In this life like weeds, eyes need us to see
Hearts need us to bleed, in this life like weeds
You're a rock to me
I know where you're from, but where do you belong?
In this life like weeds, you're the dirt I'll breath
In this life like weeds, you're a rock to me
All this talkin' all the time and the air fills up, up, up
Until there's nothin' left to breathe
And you think you feel most everything
And we know that our hearts are just made out of strings
To be pulled, strings to be pulled
So you think you've figured out everything
But we know that our minds are just made out of strings
To be pulled, strings to be pulled
May 28, 2016 Saturday 10:03 PM
Today is hell!!!! It's a good day, I suppose. But it is fucking humid as fucking fuck, eighty five degrees in our house right now. It has been about this hot since Thursday and it's baaadddd. I hate it. Jeez. Heat is one thing. Humidity is just gross.
Liv's over. Been over since yesterday afternoon. I love her. Also, she's annoying me. Also, she's not really annoying me at all. I assume this just comes with the title Best Friend (in combination with situation Close Quarters).
My piano teacher gets so amazed by my memory. I'm, like. Confused. I'm not very good at piano or anything. I'm actually remarkably terrible at music theory (I practice playing for like an hour daily but theory is just so... eugh). But, like. Today I played a piece and she was like, "Veronica, your timing was perfect. And you say you don't count??"
I was confused because like. I think occasionally, if I find a piece difficult, I will count out the time but normally I just go by sound. Like by how I know it is supposed to sound and I tell her this and she's like, "YEah but how do you get the timing?"
And I don't know to explain it to her. I've always been good with memorizing numbers and words and sounds. It's not like I've got a perfect memory. You can't play a song once and expect me to remember off the bat. I'm just. Yeah. My brain is nice to me in that sense.
All I could say to Polly The Piano Teacher was, "I have spaces in my head." So, y'know. I know when to start and stop playing. But I don't think it is a particularly great thing. I use my memory as a musical shortcut which is shit. Meaning I read the notes and play the song until it is fast enough to be coherent. Once it is coherent and I know how it is supposed to sound, I don't really have to read as much. Also, I'm bad at interpreting time signatures and stuff. I just. Having someone demonstrate a piece to me is like a Godsend. I swear. Self. Please get better at music theory. Seriously.
If Polly looks at me like I'm an idiot one more time – because she's all, "What is the purpose of the circle of fifths?" and I'm just like "..... key...???????" – I will cry. No I won't. But I don't like that look. She's not even mean, but still. I'm like 17 and I've been playing piano since I was eight (don't mind the gap between 12 and 16), how do I not know this stuff? Maybe it has to do with the four years in which I barely touched the piano. OOorrr it could be because I have neglected the theory lessons since I began playing. Haha.
May 29, 2016 Sunday 12:03 AM
Sorry, I stopped to watch Deadpool with the fam Liv (she's fam but like. Had to specify).
OK WELL. I'm not dying. Why am I writing? I wanna write other stuff.
I'm gonna go do that. Shit, it's hot.