Awktober

…didn’t exist.  It was too bad, I think.  November isn’t so bad, yet.  Six days in and I haven’t experienced death, disappointment–at least not much–, or extreme paranoia.  That, I believe, is the sign of a not-so-terrible month.  I am seeing Beowulf not-this-weekend-but-next-weekend (which may fall under the category of “disappointment,” though I am willing to take that risk), and I’m planning an SSU trip somewhere around there.  In the Winter of 1730 is a cool song.

I really have nothing else to say.  Maybe I’ll edit later if I’m inspired today.

Open Your Eyes

This is the song I’d like played at my funeral.

[listen to it here]

All this feels strange and untrue
And I won’t waste a minute without you
My bones ache, my skin feels cold
And I’m getting so tired and so oldThe anger swells in my guts
And I won’t feel these slices and cuts
I want so much to open your eyes
‘Cause I need you to look into mineTell me that you’ll open your eyes [x4]Get up, get out, get away from these liars
‘Cause they don’t get your soul or your fire
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine
And we’ll walk from this dark room for the last timeEvery minute from this minute now
We can do what we like anywhere
I want so much to open your eyes
‘Cause I need you to look into mine

Tell me that you’ll open your eyes [x8]

All this feels strange and untrue

And I won’t waste a minute without you