[2:43 a.m.] : [2007-11-16]

I dare say seventy five percent (or more) of my cd collection is useless. Okay, useless is not the correct word. Why don't we agree on something more like 'dead to me.' But then again that phrase could be applied to a little too much at the moment. Klump it on and spread it around thick and to narrow it down as to what I am trying to say is all I have is music I can not stand to listen to. Tones, voices, lines, words, singers, albums there is too much that makes me feel something and everything is laying in such a way that there is no pay off in feeling anything so the really good stuff I just can't take. I just can't fucking take it when the slow vocals come in full of emotion and honest words and aching it rips at the ghost of a limb I no longer have. I can't bleed if there is no blood left and even if there was a drop or two deep down somewhere I would never know cause i'd need a heart to pump it and everything is gone. The funny thing is I need something to work to, a little sound. Hell, i've said it before, I need a sound track to do everything. I've been known to spend five minutes trying to decide what to listen to while putting on my socks. I need something to soundtrack the construction site, tones to fill the air voices crooning in the back ground as I put together the little pieces. I cut the paper and with glue and tape and pipe cleaners I make something that fits into the vacant spots and then recklessly I put on Ben Folds or Ryan Adams or Riendeer Sections and like a house of cards what I've made crumbles in my hands and I've got to start over again.

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