In Continuum.

Rambling Spree

(Be warned. Ramblings ensue!)



Cheers darlin'
Here's to you and your lover boy
Cheers darlin'
I got years to wait around for you

A little thing about performing on stage I read once from John Mayer had me smiling before the computer screen, secretly cursing under my breath for the truth he spoke. He mentioned that before he became famous, he used to play guitar in his bedroom and imagine himself on a stage. But once he got famous, he would imagine himself in his bedroom while performing on stage. To be honest - as embarrassing as it may be - I do that all the time in my bedroom with the door to my room locked and the atmosphere adjusted to feel like a bar or lounge of some kind.

With the yellow lamp turned on and the window closed, I would sit in the middle of the road and imagine the ground before my feet falling away, and stretching out before my eyes where the bed should be would be the rows of audience. Everybody watched and anticipated, silence resonated through the concert hall as they waited for the first note of the next song. That is how I picture myself usually, being all narcissistic and vain. It is one of those childhood dreams I guess, so I guess there is no harm fantasizing about it. Cheap thrills, we are all guilty of it.

Cheers darlin'
I've got your wedding bells in my ear
Cheers darlin'
You give me three cigarettes to smoke my tears away

But tonight was a little different, as I sat in my room alone after dinner and the lights turned out. I was there in the middle of the room again with the lamp turned on, the same routine as usual right before a series of songs I intend to play and sing. But this time, instead of rows and rows of people I imagined myself in the corner of a bar alone with my guitar, the lights dimmed for my performance and the spotlight on me. Probably my first show or the second, so I was obviously nervous just sitting there on the high stool as the customers of the bar scrutinized me from below.

Smoke swirled from the tips of the cigarettes, the smell of alcohol thick in the air. Everybody turned their chairs towards me, legs crossed and obviously not interested with what I had to play or sing. But since the night was young and they had nothing to lose, I was saved from being yanked off the stage and kicked into the back alley. So I cleared my throat for the very last time and adjusted my pick as it trembled in my hands. Cold sweat formed on my palms but I turned them away from the audience, afraid that their vulture-like eyes would catch that hint of nervousness, the fear of myself messing up the set. "Here we go..." I mumbled, and started playing.

And I die when you mention his name
And I lied, I should have kissed you
When we were running the reins

Tonight, it was a good imaginary show. I kept on playing and playing, and sang my hearts out for the first time in a long time. I forgot when was the last time I sang those heartbreaking songs and actually meant every single word of it. I forgot when was the last time I smiled despite the throbbing pain at the tips of every finger. But the adrenaline rush was there, playing songs after songs like there is no tomorrow. My invisible audience cheered in the imaginary bar, the cups half full with alcohol raised up high in the air as I bowed to the crowd. Satisfied, I took my leave from the stage and back into my room - reality.

As I am typing this entry, the tips of my fingers are still aching. Guess I got to get a tub of hot water later to soak my fingers until they prune. But it felt so great, just shouting out every word of every line even if they went out of key sometimes. Songs that you wouldn't usually sing for it's cheesy heartbreaking lyrics suddenly made so much sense, and inside your mind as you are singing those lyrics out loud, you are also going "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! YES!" Because they are all making perfect sense now, why haven't I realize it before?

What am I darlin'?
A whisper in your ear?
A piece of your cake?
What am I, darlin?
The boy you can fear?
Or your biggest mistake?

I was just talking to Kenzie about cliche. This is how the word 'cliche' changes from a negative thing, to a positive thing, then back to a really negative thing in one's life. Before a relationship, you listen to love songs and you feel those hair at the back of your neck standing. Those are probably signs of cliche, very obvious and easy to spot. Every word from a - say, Lionel Ritchie - love song would stab you with stupidity and you worry about the death of so many million brain cells.

Then of course, you fall in love and you are all lovey-dovey. You find that "Hey, maybe cliche isn't such a bad thing after all!" Of course it is not such a bad thing you numb nut, that's because you've been swept off your feet. People always say that it is good to be swept off your feet, but they seldom imagine what comes after being swept off: You land face flat on the ground breaking your nose and getting a concussion in your head, thus ridding you of any rational judgments.

Cheers darlin'
Here's to you and your lover man
Cheers darlin'
I just hang around and eat from a can

You break up, and there are a few stages to a break up. You break up, you break down, then you feel fed up, then pissed off. Numbness ensues, but before that happens you have to go through all those stages, and being pissed off usually causes you to start cursing popular cliches. Songs with lines like "I'm gonna love you forever" or "How do I live without you" or "Because you loved me". You start to run your penknife over the faces of Jessica Simpson, Leanne Rimes and Celine Dion because they sang those songs and they are making you feel like crap with their public display of cliche. Yes, that is how cliche transforms from one state to another. Brilliant, isn't it? Like a bloody amoeba and as useless too.

Cheers darlin'
I got a ribbon of green on my guitar
Cheers darlin'
I got a beauty queen
To sit not very far from me