Glowy & Beamy - For The Chorus

This is numero dos in a series of posts about what lights up my life, face, and Christmas tree collection.

I live in a world that feels like it's riding a merry-go-round after having a few thousand beers and eating an egg salad sandwich. I'm nauseous and nervous. Tired and terrified. Frustrated and fearful. "This can't end well!" My Brain screams. My Heart counters with, "This is what you want!" And My Soul clarifies with, "This is what God asks of you."

Every once in a while, those three thoughts fit neatly together. Its only when I'm with my best friend that it does. I was with my best friend tonight. We were in my car zipping down Route 28 and blasting Owl City as we headed to her home. She nestled into her seat and closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. She only stopped looking so stunningly beautiful and peaceful to mumble an "I love you" or two.

I was "home". Not the place, but rather the heart.

I took in the sight of the streetlights as they leapt past. I could almost see the wafting steam of my melting frustrations in the night sky. The summer from Overscheduledville is far from over. Years of uncertainty and waiting and not getting a chance to wait still stand in front of me. But they seem more friendly now. As if they're reluctantly holding our their hands to welcome me. As if through sheer force of adorableness and unquenchable love, my Meg in the seat next to me had gotten my worst fears to get their act together.

I was/am/will always be content. I was/am/will always be beamy and the world was/is/will always be glowy. If Time had a pause button, I would have hit it then and placed something very heavy and unmovable on the button. I wish I could go back. But the week, month, year, and rest of my life all beckon me. I can only pray that God gives me so many of those peaceful, heavenly, content moments that I take them for granted. My life doesn't look easy, simple or even possible. But I wouldn't trade it for anything.

The tears I hold back are more than worth it when they flow out as joyful droplets. The future's far away. But it feels close enough to hug when I'm with my Meg, and in my Lord's arms.

I'll let them be my chorus. I'll keep going back to them since they're the whole purpose anyway. Excuse me. I have beaminess to be. Feel to join me and the crickets for the chorus.

I'd rather waltz than just walk through the forest
The trees keep the tempo and they sway in time
Quartet of crickets chime in for the chorus
If I were to pluck on your heartstrings, would you strum on mine?

What is this? Its me, thats what.

Four blog posts is too much in a 24 hour period, you say? I say you need a life if you noticed that. Im just bored, ok?

Here's my question: If a blog post is short enough to be a Facebook status, is it still a blog post? Or a misplaced Facebook status? What if most of the blog post is spent talking about whether or not its a blog post? Do those count towards the blogpostiness? What happens when a question turns into five questions? Or six? Or eight? Confused?

Not anymore.

Every Once out a while Every Once got sick of being in a while.

The mood strikes me. The mood for silliness, for idiocy disguised as intelligence, and for pure fun wrapped in a bundle of goodness and decorated with post-it notes that declare this incredible package to be mine and mine alone. Sadly, the mood also pats William Trystiam on the back.

I don't like Will very much for that fact. Its just not fair! I wouldn't stand for it, but fate seems to prefer that I sit. So I settled for lying down. Which is a dangerous pasttime. Did you know that? It is.

And here is why. Do you know what you're doing when you're lying down? You're sleeping. Or injured. Both result in terrible consequences. You see, burglars and aliens alike (and Santa) know when you sleep. So they both lie in wait for you to start snoozing and drooling before they attempt to suck your brains out or rob you, irrespectively.

Do aliens suck out brains? Or is that just zombies? I get them confused sometimes. What's up with bulbous loafers? I mean, seriously. I like loafers. I don't know why. They just so...

Yeah... So... THAT.

I think there should be a Loafer Day. We all will celebrate by wearing comfy shoes and eating bread. Then when we're busying hiccuping, the brain-sucking creatures (be they aliens, zombies, alien-zombies, or Cassidy Freeman clones) can all take over our useless and then lifeless bodies.

Do you know what's a funny word? Mercenaries. Thats what.

(I think its safe to say that hyperness, Fall Out Boy, and an outlet for insanity is not a great mixture for me.)

((Yeah...))

Hello Detroit

You knew this was coming. Stop pretending to be surprised. As you all know I recently purchased an Ipod Touch. His name is Detroit. The reason his name is Detroit will be saved for another blog post. Suffice it to say that its a good reason. For now, I'd like you all to read my latest parody. Its a parody of Hello Seattle by Owl City. I call it Hello Detroit.

Hello Detroit

Hello Detroit, I am your new owner

Since I purchased your awesomeness

I fall asleep hearing your melodies

Every night when you sing

Hello Detroit, I am so happy

Now that you are with me

I’d crawl for hours across burning pavement

Just to save you from being drowned

Hello Detroit, I am in love with you

And the huge grin on my face

I won’t consider selling you until

Apple releases something new

Hello Detroit, please don’t run out of space

In the near future

I have too many apps I need to fit

Inside your silver shell

Hello Detroit, you made me forget

All that I would put up with

When I plugged your predecessor in

My ears and tried to sing

Hello Detroit, where were you all my life?

Im not sure how I survived

I’d give you my love, if you opened up and shone

With the light of the citrus sun

Hello Detroit, I am your new owner

Since I purchased your awesomeness

I fall asleep hearing your melodies

Don’t let me dim your light

It’s too late to open my eyes

Did I say “Album” right?

Sing me to sleep tonight

Don’t let me dim your light

(Hello Detroit, I am your new owner)

It’s too late to open my eyes

(Since I purchased your awesomeness)

Did I say “album” right?

(I fall asleep hearing your melodies)

Sing me to sleep tonight

The Good Life

Gregory needed light. He couldn't see much of anything. His hands fumbled in the dark across knives, grenades, and mouse traps. Finally, they felt the familiar touch of a matchbox. He picked it up. Not a single match resided inside. He kept feeling around until he found another matchbox. Still no matches. This happened to poor Gregory again and again. It happened 19 straight times. Only when he grabbed the twentieth matchbox did he find a match.

He wondered why his parents had 19 empty matchboxes, but just put it out of his mind. When the realization that he needed a candle hit him, his heart sank. But then a lemon-scented candle dropped from nowhere and whacked him on the head in much the same way that a rock would if it had been thrown at his head for no reason.

But that didn't matter too much. Because as soon as he lit the candle, he had the bright light he had been craving.

Gregory walked into his kitchen. In the light of the abnormally bright candle, he saw something strange. A Turkish Vegetable-Eating Horse was looking through his mail. He let him finish. The horse whinnied while perusing a letter from New York. Then he walked out of Greg's house casually.

He picked up the letter and after brushing a horse hair off of the envelope, began to read. He read about familiar violins, long days in June, and memories of bitterly cold winters. Then he got to the last sentence. It didn't follow the previous train of thought. In fact, it seemed to belong to its own letter. It said, "Gone." That was it. Just "Gone."

The oddness of that word did not have time to properly sink in to poor Gregory's head. A thief named Tom made sure of that. It was a blow to the head that made him forget the past 13ish months. He spent many years trying to remember it. Yet he never could. Just one moment remained burned into memory despite the amnesia. That memory cannot be described. Not because it is indescribable, but because it is known by every single human being who ever drew breath.

And that is the end of my story.

The Only Direction (East)

I've been on a roll lately. I just finished my fourth parody. This one is distinct. You see, its serious. And its written somewhat cryptically. Thats intentional. You see, its one of my worst moments and one of my best rolled into one song. Its about the fact that both the good and the bad times I go through are all pointed in the same direction. East. Towards the sun. Or the Son. If you catch my meaning.

Yeah...Im a complicated fellow. Anyway, enjoy Track 4 on Never Judge a Cover Band By Its Booking Agent. "The Only Direction (East)" a parody of "The Only Exception" by Paramore.

The Only Direction (East)

Early this morning

I saw the yellow sun rise

From the east again

A new day to start

As I watched and grinned directly at it

Its quarter past four

But morning’s too bright to sleep through it

And today is the day that I promised

I’d never fall in love

If it’s not with my Meg

But, Dear East, you are the only direction

You are the only direction

You are the only direction

You are the only direction

Maybe I’ve felt somewhere

An ache in my soul

That I finish last

Sit here all night and wait

Don’t leave me alone

In a purely sad state

And it never seemed like this

When you were a comfortable distance

It was just now, I have chosen myself

That I’ll stand up and embrace this

Because you are more than worth the risk

Well, you are the only direction

You are the only direction

You are the only direction

You are the only direction

I’ve got a close stare that’s facing east

But I can’t forget that behind me is fear

I don’t feel lonely in the morning when I wake up

Left me the heart I knew exactly what you meant by it

You are the only direction

You are the only direction

You are the only direction

You are the only direction

You are the only direction

You are the only direction

You are the only direction

You are the only direction

And I’m on my way out east

Will you join me out east?

Sequins

In the same way that you can't take your eyes off of a train wreck, you'll probably read this. My first parody song was kinda funny, the second was a little worrisome, the third is a real red flag. This guy really is nuts. I started by turning a song about being ignored by someone out of your league, into a song about getting your girlfriend to give up her pork addiction. Then I turned a song about the magic of fireflies, into a tale of me getting murdered over my horrendous dancing. Now, I've gone too far. Why would I turn a song about viewing the world as a dark place, into one about a down-and-out fashionista? I don't even know.

But someone needs to stop me. Have an intervention or something. This needs to end here and now. But it won't. How do I know? Because I've discovered a Relient K song that is perfect to make into a Portal song. Oh yes. Portal and Relient K. Shiver and scream. Anyway, here is my song. Its a parody of the Onerepublic song "Secrets."

Sequins

I need another necktie

Something to put on my chest

My outfit’s kinda boring

I used to be better dressed

Is that T-shirt distressed?

I only have it in gray

Come buy it for me on sale

I’d wear it all week, since it’s all I purchased

In complete honesty

Lately Im entirely

Out of all my currency

So, Im gonna give all my sequins away

I’m fine

Without their fake plastic shine

They’re impossible to combine

Im gonna give all my sequins away

This coat

Is good at keeping out the cold

But then it started looking old

It was begging to be sold

And every day I see you

And the clothing you’ve got a hold of

Ones with many different sizes

You don’t how badly I want

To be you

I don’t really like my clothes

Oh so

In complete honesty

Lately Im entirely

Out of all my currency

So, Im gonna give all my sequins away

I’m fine

Without their fake plastic shine

They’re impossible to combine

Im gonna give all my sequins away

Out of season

Out of place

Way too baggy

For my taste

I know my scarf is so last year

Please stop mocking me

In complete honesty

Lately Im entirely

Out of all my currency

So, Im gonna give all my sequins away

I’m fine

Without their fake plastic shine

They’re impossible to combine

Im gonna give all my sequins away

In complete honesty

Lately Im entirely

Out of all my currency

So, Im gonna give all my sequins away

I’m fine

Without their fake plastic shine

They’re impossible to combine

Im gonna give all my sequins away

All my sequins away

All my sequins away