perchance to dream...

Listen to Hello My Old Heart by The Oh Hellos.

hello my old heart 

how have you been 
are you still there inside my chest? 
I’ve been so worried 
you’ve been so still 
barely beating at all 

oh, don’t leave me here alone 
don’t tell me that we’ve grown 
for having loved a little while 
oh, I don’t want to be alone 
I want to find a home 
and I want to share it with you 

hello my old heart 
it’s been so long 
since I’ve given you away 
and every day I add another stone 
to the walls I built around you 
to keep you safe 

hello my old heart 
how have you been? 
how is it, being locked away? 
well don’t you worry 
in there, you’re safe 
and it’s true, you’ll never beat 
but you’ll never break 

nothing lasts forever 
some things aren’t meant to be 
but you’ll never find the answer 
until you set your old heart free 

until you set your old heart free

from The Oh Hello’s, track released 01 December 2011

everything in me aches for the one thing i want most, but everything i am still isn’t enough.

sometimes…

i often wish i had softer standards so i could go have mindless fun like so many others seem to. passing from one to the next in the “not ready to be involved” okcraigslist instant-gratification of things. always being “on”, with little outlet but my own free time or putting myself into even more work or attending more concerts, i think i’d quite enjoy being a little slutty. ok, a lot slutty. i think men would be surprised at that level of interest i always hold. it’s been almost a year and dammit, i’m single. i’m hardworking, passionate, and single. don’t i at least deserve that? then i toss and turn with the idea of not having it because i’m not worthy of the interaction, or good enough to keep it if i had it, or if it’s because i make sure that i stay just out of the path to let anything happen.

and then there are moments, like the one today, when i sit still daydreaming of that easy and carnal resolution for half a moment before i remember distinctly what it felt like to be wrapped in you. to feel your breathe and your skin and your guidance and strength. to feel protected and cared for and that you wanted to devour every inch of me. that you were all mine and i was all yours. that there was nothing outside of that room and that moment and the two of us. the way that those 23 hours were more magic than i’d felt in a very long time. the way i crave it with every part of me to be real again.

and so i must admit that if nothing else, i would know how fake the substitute would be. how cheap and faceless that paper doll of a person would have to be in that space. how empty it would feel. how unsettling and disappointing it would be. and then how easily i’d given up on the idea that someone who held so much importance and beauty was worth waiting until he saw the truth of it too. or until someone else who deserved that emotional treasure crossed paths with me at just the right moment for us both. to make this frustration FINALLY mean something in its droning on…

and so here i am.

tonight every ounce of me aches to be loved. i can’t give more, work harder, or wish it stronger. no resume earns it, no heart begging it so makes it real. and yet i continue to think that somehow i’ll wait life out and my movie moment will still somehow appear. today i returned to the site of the best day of my last year and i couldn’t help but replay the memory and long for that place in my life again. yet no wishing will change that for the other person it has been permanently banished. my soul aches. i hope sleep will come quickly and soothe me…

Yeah, I can take roadtrip adventures by myself, pursue debt-free living and a dream job with dedication, but there are still nights like this, when I wonder how someone with such a big heart and overwhelming passion always finds herself in such a big bed alone.

Having a good memory can be a real bitch sometimes. As can being so nostalgic. Good thing I - nope, that’s right. I’ve got both…

zoekeating:

As a DIY artist it’s up to me to educate myself about the music business. I do my best, but some elements of it seem exceedingly opaque, in particular, performance royalties as handled by the performing rights societies such as ASCAP and BMI. The royalty “system” for radio and television is…

I didn’t want to kiss you goodbye — that was the trouble — I wanted to kiss you goodnight. And there’s a lot of difference.
Ernest Hemingway  (via twinkletitties)