Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers

It's all in my head

I spent the day thinking of recording. And my pain was at a solid 8 all day. Even when laying down. There was no relief. I just sat on the floor "indian-style" for an hour, trimming the harvest, and by all rights, should be in excruciating pain. But as I sat there, I sang along to Madonna, U2 and Lady Gaga (don't question my muses), and I feel fine right now. That just proves to me that I need to find the right outlet and this pain will go away. And it's got to be the recording.

Doc is wrong, that's what I've been obsessing over. I've been going over all of the constructive criticism I've gotten since widely releasing the 31 pieces on SoundCloud. Putting aside the technical critique, which I believe I have fixed to the best of my ability and budget, there's a lot of good stuff there. What keeps repeating is CR listening to a rather emotionally performed piece and picking out of it that I was holding back. He's good. I've figured out completely new deliveries for old favorites of mine that I've never considered re-doing. Actually putting the "punk rock" in the performances, like I do live. Did live. Will once again do live.

The only problem: Doc will be home while I am doing this. I will be in my room and he will be in the living room watching TV, but he will still be here. I don't want that to dampen my performance. He and Kelli used to go outside for a cigarette while I was up on stage. I can do this. I can do this. This has to be done in order for me to continue on my path. I chose this path, it is mine to walk. There is a ledge on only one side, the other side is a sturdy wall that I can cling to, I can do this. I will not fall into the Bog of Eternal Stench (ok, yeah, I was listening to the Labyrinth soundtrack, too).

Erg, I have an article to write. I'll do it tomorrow morning. It isn't like I have a deadline. I just want to get it done. Only my Patreon Patrons will see it, but I want to get it out. The thoughts have been running amok in my head so long, they have formed an outline and made note cards. All I have to do is fill in the participles.

I also have a video to make. Which reminds me I need to read up on "Fair Use" of copyrighted material, because I want to use a song from "Run Lola Run" as the soundtrack to said video.

I keep making lists of shit I need to look up and research and people I need to tweet and email, but I keep forgetting to save them and then Doc over heats the laptop with that fecking Pot Farm game he plays and it shuts down and the list is gone and it takes two days to assemble it again, with all the new stuff that comes along.

Rachel Maddow's blog assured me that tips/story ideas/etc. would definitely be seen by someone if tweeted to @MaddowBlog. So I tweeted the link to my open letter to Mike Huckabee about slinging the word "schizophrenic" around to that tweet address, and I'm really hoping to get someone's attention, if not to the story, then my writing style, or something, anything. One little break, that's all I'm asking of the Universe.

We put the "acoustic tent" up in my room today. Simon thinks I built him a tent. He is so happy. I left the wall with the book cases on it uncovered, so there was some clutter to bounce around the sound, just nothing flat and glossy to straight up reverb the sound. I don't want the space completely dead, just really sleepy. We'll see tomorrow if it makes a bit of difference. I don't have the energy to deal with the technical details of getting the mic and shit together in my room and setting up. Actually, I do, but if I do it, I won't have the energy to do the readings.

I think I need to smoke. My next Xanax isn't for another hour and I haven't smoked for four hours or so. The paranoia has calmed some. I feel ok going out back. I know it's secure. You should see the shit Doc did to make sure that IF someone gets in, it will make so much commotion that the neighbors will call the police, and they aren't even in town right now.

They enabled text 911 here this week. Fun, but it doesn't really help me. My phone only has a number pad, if I want to text something, I have to want it really bad, and have a lot of free time to do it. Any time I want to text Doc, I use an online service, really, it's that much of a hassle. It doesn't beep every time you hit the key. You would think that it would. But it randomly beeps as you are hitting the key 3 times for a letter, and you don't know you hit it four times until the number comes up instead of the letter, then you have to backspace and start over again. Yeah, don't text on my phone.

Ok, now "Running Up That Hill" is on. Placebo's version. Yeah, I really want to do a reading of this. If I can separate it from the music.

  • dry hot and dusty as hell

    My last surviving grand parent died a couple of weeks ago. Two days to the hour o my Nana's death, my favorite cat, Boo, died in my arms. The grief…

  • Hey there, hi there, ho there

    I'm back, bitches and bastards, TC paid for a forever pass, I should use it. The cops came over and did a welfare check about a month ago. My…

  • Got Caught Stealing

    Having had yet another clever thing stolen by a bunch of what I have to assume are white middle aged hate macines; The line in my twitter profile…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.