Love makes us happy. Unrequited love makes us babbling overzealous fools. Its never more obvious than in the rhythm and blues songs of old. Songs of literal begging for forgiveness. Songs in which the lead singer promises to do better. Pleads for another chance. There's something about those songs that really clicks with us as a whole. Otherwise, such music would long have been retired to the LP shelves in antique stores. As it is, the music moves as much as it did in its relative hey day, because there's something about a grown man begging, pleading, crying out for just a moment of some wronged young woman's attention. I give you exhibits A and B. A is lyrics, lyrics from a powerful song. The man? Dumped. His methodology? He's so pathetic he doesn't even bother to sing a good deal of the song. The end result? Good music. Here's the lyrics. Courtesy, of course, of lyricsondemand.com

Have You Seen Her?

One month ago today
I was happy as a lark
But now I go for walks
To the movies - maybe to the park

And have a seat on the same old bench
To watch the children play (huh)
You know, tomorrow is their future
But to me, just another day

They all gather around me
They seem to know my name
We laugh, tell a few jokes
But it still doesnt ease my pain

I know I cant hide from a memory
Though day after day Ive tried
I keep sayin shell be back
But today again I lied

Verse 1:

Oh, I see her face everywhere I go
On the street, and even at the picture show
Have you seen her?
Tell me, have you seen her?

Verse 2:

Oh, I hear her voice as the cold winds blow
In the sweet music on my radio
Have you seen her?
Tell me, have you seen her?

Bridge:

Why, oh, why
Did she have to leave and go away [2: oh, yeah]
Oh-oh-oh, Ive been used to havin someone to lean on
And Im lost
Baby, Im lost (Oh)

[Repeat verse w/wordless vocal first two lines (2X)]

Verse 3:

Oh, she left her kiss upon my lips
But left that break within my heart
Have you seen her?
Tell me, have you seen her?

Verse 4:

Oh, I see her hand reaching out to me
Only she can set me free
Have you seen her?
Tell me, have you seen her?

[Repeat bridge]

[Repeat verse w/wordless vocal first 2 lines (4X)]

(spoken over 2nd and 3rd repeats):

As another day comes to an end
Im lookin for a letter or somethin
Anything that she would send
With all the people I know
Im still a lonely man
You know, its funny
I thought I had her in the palm of my hand

Coda [repeat to fade]:

Have you seen her
Tell me, have you seen her (tell me, have you seen her?)

And of course, Exhibit B. I give you, the Temptations. Masters of their craft, they had two lead singers. One was a romancer, the other was a begger. Eddie Kendricks and Dennis Ruffin respectively. Eddie promised and delivered the world, while David, David just promised not to mess up again. This song is David, asking just to hear her say she forgives him. Enjoy.
All I Need - The Temptations

My mood?

You know, I really don't know. . .

Saw this, stole this, and here we are.

You Are the Individualist

4 You are sensitive and intuitive, with others and yourself. You are creative and dreamy... plus dramatic and unpredictable. You're emotionally honest, real, and easily hurt. Totally expressive, others always know exactly how you feel.

What number are you?

Ever wonder where you'd be if you'd just done something, one thing, differently? I remember right after I had a car accident, having crawled out of the rubble, and looking at my car, wishing, just wishing, that I'd just pulled over and looked down to see what that noise was that I'd heard. I might still be driving that car today. The funny thing about looking back is that it never does any good. It just makes you feel like even more of a loser, and even more of a reject, because not only did you fail miserably to make what is obviously a clearly successful decision, but now you have the long road of consquence ahead. There is nothing more irritating that your nagging faults following you, haunting you. All the mistakes you've made, all the things you wish you'd never done, and all the things you know, I mean YOU KNOW, you should've done, all past, unalterable and at the same time still there, making you wish you could alter them. You can't forget them, you can't change them, and no matter what people tell you about remembering to avoid repeating, the sweet feeling of release, of forgetting would be so much better. Sometimes its these feelings of regret that guide us into even more regret, simply to wash away the emotions of yesterday and open new wounds afresh.

Some would argue that learning from our mistakes isn't pointless, that in fact it is our mistakes that mold us, shape us, and teach us, as well as guide us. To these I would say we don't learn from mistakes, we learn from the harsh consequences they bring. And often times, that "learning" is simply us remembering the pain avoiding it. For instances like touching a hot stove or diving into an empty pool. Living through the pain, of course, teaches us not to do that, but in complex situations, when there literally is nothing that will be repeated or remain static in the future, its kind of a moot point. Next time around, I won't have to worry about that guy getting upset and beating me senseless if I just walk away right? Seems straightforward, but what if I succeed in intimidating the next person who challenges me, but when I walk away, he feels brave enough to attack me, because I turned my back on him. What if, by walking away, I leave myself open to being shot, or stabbed? Well previous experience tells me staying will lead to a fight, but does it tell me leaving won't? In each situation, its really dependent on the person, and who can really judge a person? We change as often as our clothing, and our situations dictate to us how we will react, which means nothing that we do is predictable. Sure you can guess how I'll respond to certain situations, but there's so many variables that it would be impossible to know exactly how I'd act. And that's the problem, in my mind, with human communications. Variables. Did she smile, did she laugh, was it a polite laugh or a full thrown belly laugh? Was it for my benefit or for hers? Can I take her at face value, or is she a complete hypocrite? Why did she cover her nose, is my breath smelly, or some other part of me, or does she feel a sneeze coming on? Is she embarassed, is she angry, does she know that I didn't mean to say what I said? Did that offend her? Why? What exactly did the offending? Could I say it again? Did she accept my apology? Am I chewing with my mouth open again? BAAH!! All of that for less fifteen minutes of conversation and interaction, and in the long run, nothing is accomplished and nothing is gained. Why? Because many of our behaviors are fronts, clever rouses to make us think that someone else is an incredible person in need of our attention and/or affections. So even though you may spend hours, days, weeks, months, years with someone, you may never know them until they break down and open up. But not too much, you have to open up and gain trust, but you can't open up until they gain trust, because too much and you will regret it and that finally brings us back here to where we started. Regret.

I regret that I even thought this.

Prox Map Sort - The Metric System Favorite song line of all time: "You're more difficult than bubble sort." This is what happens when programmers do music. See Devo for more.

My mood?

Regret.

So I just keep singing my song,
because me and you will never belong,
together in sentences or phrases,
so if I seem in a daze its
just me reacting to what will be,
will be que sera sera,
the crowd cheers hurrah hurrah,
and we get thumbs up down and in between,
it seems,
the best get and the worse get dreams,
and that's really the very thing,
that boils my blood,
that forms my mud,
into pies, cakes, delicatessen shapes,
eclairs, long johns and pastries,
so much sugar I took over the french bakeries,
turned them into mockeries, or maybe fakeries,
since they mocked me once before.
Like a dog in front of the meat store
front-ing like he's really already ate,
I stand in front and watch everybody's fate,
unravel and unfold in front of my eyes,
kicking and screaming because I know its lies,
no one can be that happy with someone,
and my battle stays fought but never won,
What have I done?
To alienate that which I wanted,
to the extent that I've un-done it.
My effort and work
is emblazoned on man made fibrous shirts,
quitters never win, winners never quit,
what, that's it?
Your motto's such that you've got to win,
instead of being second best in the end,
I've got to destroy my enemies,
relish in their loss and defeats?
Not my plan, I'm not the man
So tell me I'm not the one, tell me my job is done,
and I'll laugh in your face,
and take that remote from your place.
In one fell swoop you'd get your taste,
and I'd be the one that wish YOU'D get erased,
or traced,
so we can all keep your pace,
your pace,
your pace,
your
pace
pace
pace.

Strangers - Portishead

My mood?

Pretty mellow actually. . .

Its another day without/another day within/a day when I can begin

So here we are. Wednesday, or whatever day this is. Okay, not a lot of time. I had a good thought or two, but I've lost them since this weekend.

But here's what's been happening: I got and cooked a ham.

Okay. That little section is over. Here's something I wrote.

My cornbread skillets,
made of iron, covered in grease,
formed by and touched by heat.
I make my cornbread on Thursdays,
and I make it last through the week.
My cornbread skillets,
if I told you I was in love with them,
you'd think I was bit crazy.
But I love what they are,
and they love me back unconditional
not cold hearted or judgemental,
they give my bread shape and form,
and I give them the oven that makes them warm.
I butter my cornbread skillets,
and it cooks it into my bread,
and when it comes down to it,
me and my cornbread skillets,
makes sure I keep my cool, make sure I keep my head.
Cornbread, ain't nothing wrong with that,
its what makes me tick tock and keeps me intact.
Passed down from my mother,
and her mother, and maybe her mother's mother,
or maybe we got them at a shelf in Walmart,
the real deal is that we've never been apart.
I got cornbread skillets,
and for those with it,
I'll bake you some bread.

We Live in Brooklyn Baby - Roy Ayers

My mood?

Hugs for everyone!!