On Post: A Feeling of Thoughtful Sadness
Date: January 13
So here was process in writing this entry: do the normal picking process, pull the CD, listen to the song. Nod like the intellectual I am, go to the internet to look up lyrics. Realize this artist, Dustin Burley, is just a random self-publishing singer-songwriter who I heard in a local bar one night and bought two of his CDS for 8 dollars and is therefore unlikely to have lyrics on the net. Listen to the song again, transcribing the lyrics. Finish that, look at the clock, realize, “Damn, it’s late.” Panic. Accept this is the way it is. Sit down. Write.
All of this is by way of explaining that, yes, I am aware this is a bit of clichéd interaction. I admit that but I offer this story as, “Sure, but considering I transcribed the lyrics, not bad, right?”
Actually, I don’t think it is all that bad. But yeah, it is really clichéd. I know it and I’m owning it. Albeit while making a plethora of excuses.
Also, I think the piece justifies itself on the basis of “You are the bird flu of my social life,” and the justification of a social life as boosting one’s immunity. I wish I had tried that gambit when I was 14.
As far as the why of how it came to be, the song, which I like, has a…tone to it. Without consulting my transcription notes, I will paraphrase that there is a line in the chorus that amounts to “let me go or keep killing me,” that struck me as very early adolescent. So I took that piece, got the immunity discussion, and wrapped the rest of the dialogue, basically the setup and the close, around that exchange.
My explanation not ring true? Do you have questions that this piece left unanswered? Reach out and touch me at firstname.lastname@example.org or @ungajje on the Twitter. And, as always, spread the word.