Here’s A Song I Always Thought Would Sound Better Fingerpicked, Of Course Pulling It Off Didn’t Go
Here’s a song I always thought would sound better fingerpicked, of course pulling it off didn’t go ALL that well. Here’s me playing “ You Only Live Once “ by the Strokes, one of the only newish bands I think are worth a fuck
More Posts from Wasted-life-musings and Others
Do not sleep under a roof. Carry no money or food. Go alone to places frightening to the common brand of men. Become a criminal of purpose. Be put in jail, and extricate yourself by your own wisdom
Miyomoto Musashi
Concerning Books of Literary Importance
In highschool I took Classical literature, creative writing, and poetic verse, I’d like to think I’ve read at least 75% of the things you were all forced to read. of those books maybe 75% of them mattered, if that. I found long after I was forced to read, I read and found things significant to me, not significant as a generalization, and to me that proves most if not all learning is self learning. Don’t real what youre told to, or do and make ya own judgement, learn what you want, dont learn what you dont, as much as society hates it, our brains tend to pick their own topics of specialization unannounced to us, dont be “smart” just use your brain the best you can.
Dickheads.
Shamisen > Banjo. Lady Gaga like you’ve never heard
The previous night brodie dreams hes in a jail the size of a continent, rolling hills of barbed wire, he dreams that the inmates sleep stacked like firewood wrapped in shroud, on different levels of raised platforms in one open room, he dreams of a rec time only held on the roof, men marching in circles, he can see the snow laden fields housing a grizzly sea of endless rooftops. He watches the smoke roll out of the chimneys and crash to the ground as he feels the cold play xylephone with his bones. The smoke below joins and dances in a wispy procession of some grotesque marching orgy, it smells of salt and rust. He dreams of scaling down the wall and sneaking off, dreams of draining small amounts of his blood into stolen jars, he buries each only elbow deep in the frozen ground with a stone hes named pell mell. he dreams he cuts off a finger here, and a toe there, with a single stolen knife from the kitchen and hides them in various locations, so that when he dies his spirit can recall his steps and rebuild his mortal coil. He dreams of a great tube fluttering down from the sky, driven into the ground on one end with force, he sucks on the other end and siphons the sickly pink hued souls of unrest through the tube into a coffee can. The coffee can fills too full and the slime spurts out with such force it flings him high into the air, as the land comes crashing forward, he wakes.
Sometimes you find amazingly talented people on youtube, here’s my youtube crush I’ve never talked to, she’s a much better guitar player than me....
“ If you wish to control others you must first control yourself…The primary thing when you take a sword in your hands is your intention to cut the enemy, whatever the means. Whenever you parry, hit, spring, strike or touch the enemy’s cutting sword, you must cut the enemy in the same movement. It is essential to attain this. If you think only of hitting, springing, striking or touching the enemy, you will not be able actually to cut him. “ - Miyomoto Musashi
Musings and more of a despondant 30 year old man, former drug addict, current writer/alcoholic. I'm unmarried, I have no children, and all my dreams are dead, I've wasted my life, and you can too! Never say never. Sometimes prolific, mostly offensive observations about people, life, and the nature of the universe. I'm a communist, your god's a lie, hate mail welcome.
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