Recent Journal Entries

  • Creating Coloring Pages to Nightwish

    by candyhippie on April 25, 2015

    (How cool is it that this site has a journal function! I didn't even realize when I signed up that I'd get a nifty little journal. Nice and simple.)

    So I've been drawing my coloring pages to Nightwish, almost 100% Nightwish since the Toronto concert. I was a fan long ago, memorized Once, lost track of them (disappointed at the loss of Tarja and didn't like Annette's voice), and then, last month, was blown away by the Endless Forms album and Floor's versatility. I've been a huge fan of Richard Dawkins for years and years, too, so it was such a pleasant surprise to hear him on the album.

    "Endless Forms" is fitting for the nature themed coloring pages I've been drawing lately. Here's my latest, a sun and moon yin yang with lots of leafy greens, flowers and birds.



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  • Strangling Me With Your Love

    by NomadMonad on April 24, 2015

    Defunkt  1983 (untraceable lyrics)

    You are strangling me with your love
    in your hotel room of permanent disorder
    I cry for help – for open air / you close the window and I pass out
    between your walls / in your arms…

    I slept alone for many whole nights
    but one more minute / and I will kill you
    you look at me as if I had no eyes
    but when you touch me / I have no skin

    You made love to a photocopy
    and left the room / in perfect order
    by leaning out of the window
    and traveling / by ambulance

    strangling me with your love…   [X 4]

    You are strangling me with your love
    in your hotel room of permanent disorder
    I cry for help – for open air / you close the window and I pass out
    between your walls / in your arms…
    (chokin’ to death) strangling me with your love…
    (chokin’…) strangling me with your love…
    strangling me with your love…  



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  • just words

    by CleanLaundry on April 22, 2015

    when we were twelve, my friend used to tell me about a black mamba snake he would see around his house while he was still in Africa. he said it was so deadly, there were scarcely any descriptions of it. he told me it might spit venom or bolts of electicity. or ichor. and it hid in the grasses. I ended up adopting it, made it some sort of mascot for my anxiety. I imagined it as being inky black with inch long fangs - " no actually only the inside of its mouth is black,” my friend corrected. “casket shaped head. thick as a child's thigh" it became the shape of any fear I couldn't quite get a handle on.

    right now you're my black mamba, my fucking death serpent. I know, I know. "cliched" you'd say, "you're too starry eyed about life's extended metaphors" you once said. "you just metaphorized” I retorted, happily.

    except now I have a pathological aversion to extended metaphors, especially the black mamba which is ever slithering in and out of my peripherals - the flash of face on public transit, a voice leaking down the hall, teeth marks on my neck. it was 1:45, spring of 2015 and my cell phone is dead and my car is from the year 1984. and I stalled behind the wheel with the heels of my hands digging into my eye sockets trying not to howl.  it should be clear that I have a clouded head. it should be clear that since last spring, my self esteem has been like coagulated turkey gravy.

    I tried to tell someone about these cuffs of paranoia I have, and the someone told me I was being fundamentally egocentric and I had to agree. he said, “get a grip, man. you’re life is outstanding right now. have lexie fuck it out of you” he said I was being a pussy. I think I am. I’ve felt this way before, on airplanes, visiting my brother in prison, on oppressive rainy days.

    I was like this on monday, baked- cookie fresh and I tried to believe in her love, but i’ve got loser dreams with crooked lines of ink flesh wrapped around my wrists.

    that business on the phone yesterday felt like the black mamba. its tail coiled through the windows of my room like an eel through the skull of a cow, quivering impatiently. it came up through my core, something cold and hard, weirdness of serotonin lack, settling, curling on my tongue.“get a fucking grip.”



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  • the butterfly effect

    by RosesAtSunset on April 21, 2015

    you felt the flutter and 
    i felt the seismic spark.

    i asked if you wanted to build a sailboat with me, 
    but you said the weather wasn't good enough, 
    the materials were expensive, 
    and it would be a lot of work. 

    it was a yes or no question. 
    you didn't say yes, 
    so you meant no.

    i said your one-month free trial was over. 
    you said you hate that i'm so straightforward. 

    i lied when i said you split me in two. 
    sorry for the shit talk, baby; i'm blue. 

    ---
    epilogue

    on that last day i said your eyes looked like galaxies

    and you said that was the gayest shit you ever heard



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  • and if you can do it better than me then you do it

    by RosesAtSunset on April 19, 2015

    skipped my own pity party
    to take a selfie with his dick

    i've been thinking a lot more than i've been writing and that's good. i used to connect with people on this website a lot more when it was just us, a bunch of teenagers writing about our problems. now there are a lot of people here that think these journals need to be the pinnacle of writing and everyone's got a lotta shit to say. i mostly think people should mind their business but i'm the one putting my business up on a public forum so i guess that's on me. but then i decided that i've been on this website for over 8 years so i'm not going to change and i'm actually pretty happy about that.

    i've been thinking in a healthy way, practicing CBT on myself when my thoughts try to lead me to the grave. i felt like writing today even though i didn't have a lot to say. writing in this text box has been a great comfort to me over the years and this website isn't perfect but it's always felt pretty cozy. 

    i'm content

    even when i'm not

    and that's all i've ever wanted



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  • anti bull shit

    by pastor.maxwell on April 17, 2015

    i paid attention to britney's lyrics.  i think she writes some, but not most of them.  i wonder about "slaves" when i think about mainstream pop acts in the 21st century.

    i even think about the 21st century.   china has a lot more years...

    for some, this is "thinking too much."  for others, "too much is always better than not enough."

    \

    i'm giving Surrealism a try, because the mainstream is so boring.

    ultimately, it's Britney Spears' charisma, good looks and excellent dance skills that attract me.  but in the winters of 2009 and 2010 when one was all alone in the mountains training, bored by the compulsive and unconscious patterns of denial that are obvious, i learned a lot.  and Britney's songs kept me inspired.  focused.  warm.  especially 'Radar' and 'Toxic.'

     

    i don't know if she is the poet, but there's effective rhyming poetry there.

    i have more to say. i will say it later.

     



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  • little sister

    by CleanLaundry on April 16, 2015

    there you are,

    exhausted from another night

    of peeling apples

    underneath my coffee table



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  • Comment grossir le pénis?

    by noel45 on April 14, 2015

    Produit pour allonger le pénis : portail santé Lyon
    L'accroissement du pénis est commode pour les hommes qui désirent réformer la grosseur de la verge et recouvrer leur puissance sexuelle, l'organe sexuel amélioré intervient énormément dans le rétablissement de la vie sexuelle de la personne. De même, l'opération chirurgicale du pénis s'avère être une technique à prohiber complètement, les coûts de l'intervention s'avèrent être assez élevés et le danger important sans assurer la performance.

    Nombre d'hommes croit que les entraînements péniens ne sont pas périlleux, un important risque de complication érectile se déclare habituellement d'une inexacte manœuvre au cours de l'extension. En outre, le procédé naturel d'extension de la verge se révèle être mis au point en mixant des plantes et des herbes médicales, les substances naturelles se mélangent au flux sanguin et diffusent leurs éléments bénéfiques dans les cavités de la verge, donc l'épaisseur grossit avec la sécrétion spontanée de nouvelles cellules péniennes.

    L'opération chirurgicale pour le pénis propose deux mesures d'accroissement particulières; soit le grandissement par les extenseurs métalliques soit le renforcement à l'aide de graisse, les deux procédés ont généré des complications après l'intervention avec des pénis disproportionnés ou des agrandisseurs inefficaces. En réalité, les experts de l'extension désapprouvent énormément l'intervention chirurgicale du pénis, les déficiences que provoque la chirurgie sont véritablement multiples pour être mises de côté, quelques hommes ont éprouvé des dysmorphies de l'allure du pénis.

    L'organe sexuel est allongé à travers la technique d'élargissement et l'individu profite de sa capacité sexuelle, les travaux médicales assurent qu'amplifier le pénis certifie la sérénité psychique de l'homme. D'un autre côté, pour éviter les tracas des méthodes d'étirement usuelles et accroitre le pénis sans danger, les sexologues apportent aux hommes un amplificateur plus optimal confectionné à partir de composants naturels.

    Comment grossir le pénis?



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  • Arena Rock from NomadMonad

    by NomadMonad on April 07, 2015

    [I'll even lay a freebie on ya.]

    (tuning of electric guitars, assorted drum warm-up rolls)
    "Hey Detroit - it's great to be here. We love you Motor City !!
    (wild applause fills arena)
    "This next number is named When Cows Come Home."

    The ranch-bound bovines, in dehydration,
    yet wary of Kool-aid, declined to drink.
    They grazed in wonder, cowed rumination:
    where does “beef” come from?  A herd tends to think

    of pasturage, water, and basic needs.
    Ranch-hands assured them all was in order;
    privileged guests enjoy the finest  feeds.
    Cows, content on this side of the border

    try Buddhism, yoga – or simply gaze…
    though things in the distance loomed ominous
    (those lots at the edge of the well-hoofed ways)
    – and a stench wafted into their consciousness.

    Yet their calves frolicked on while the bulls mounted heifers –
    dreamed vegan dreams as they nibbled grasses
    some earned doctorates, others went clubbing;
    all loosed sustainable methane gases.

    Soothing their calves with fables and stories
    where cows are the measure of pastured life
    they deflected the gist of the young ones’ queries,
    affirming that Truth means avoidance of strife.

    “It’s best to just graze. Don’t ask questions dear.
    We’re on this planet without any clue.
    We evolved. From just what is a little unclear –
    but Cow Science has proved that it’s true.”





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  • Lyrical Transmission Unit Engaged

    by NomadMonad on April 07, 2015

    I have been posting an original poem-per-day
    and will continue through April (National Poetry Month)
    so all Song Meanies are cordially invited, whether to revile, to yawn or to applaud:

    www.connecthook

    LONG LIVE POETRY (most useless of the noble arts...)

     



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  • Tue Mar 31 8:44 PM

    by bcrxing on March 31, 2015

    sometimes i just think about you.



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  • Mon Mar 30 10:32 AM

    by bcrxing on March 30, 2015

    intimicy makes me want to throw up. im scared how much i want it and how much i want to run from it. 



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  • Spring That Lyrical Transmission Unit On Me

    by NomadMonad on March 29, 2015

    Hi everybody at SongMeanings who is even a little bit poetically inclined. 

    I wanted to let you know that National Poetry Month will soon be upon us. 

    That means National Poetry Writing  Month (NaPoWriMo) will also rise with the first fools and spring flowers of the coming lunar cycle.

    Please be warned that I intend to inflict SERIOUS poetastery on you ... yes - you.

    Stay tuned to the psychic mind-reading radio for further poetic updates.

    Over and out in on !




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  • Broken lyrics and licensing.

    by solvent_d on March 28, 2015

    Someone noted at Rosebuds' "Blue Bird" entry that the lyrics all over the internet for the song are inaccurate.  I'd hazard that most of the lyrics everywhere are wrong simply because many other sites use engines to collate new lyrics on the internet, many originating from transcription at SongMeanings by its users.  So when the lyrics are wrong here, the bad gene gets carried through.  

    To correct this in the past, users could readily edit the lyrics in the SM database, but the many licensing agreements that now govern many lyrics prevent edits from going through.  Instead, what we get is a note informing us that the correction has been submitted to the lyrics' owners for approval, even though SM is unable to guarantee that anything will come out of it.

    This. Sucks.



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  • Fri Mar 27 8:44 AM

    by bcrxing on March 27, 2015

    i guess i'm feeling empty. i thought you could fill me but you aren't. it just feels like you're constantly pulling away from me and im not sure if i can do it much longer. i don't need everything. just a little something will do. why can't you just give me that? its not asking much. not nearly as much as i could be asking. how do people live? i don't really get it. its so much work. trying to attain everything that makes you "happy". i'm just already over it. why bother when not trying to be happy is else is easier? 



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  • to be continued

    by RosesAtSunset on March 17, 2015

    the snow is beautiful, magnified by the bright winter sun. i crouch down and start packing together white crystals with my bare hands, letting the cold sting. i pack it together until i can start rolling it up the snow-covered hill. i push and push and push and devote my entire attention to this sparkling, increasingly heavy creation. i reach the top of the hill with a gleaming white boulder just up to my hips. i shock my lungs with a sharp gasp of freezing wind as the sun slowly disappears behind thick, grey clouds. i nudge my efforts down the hill as they consume ravenously, growing wildly, rolling wildly. the snow is dirty here from the displaced parking lot slush and it coats and merges with my work. 



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  • Oiling the Rusty Gates of Wisdom with Oil from the Lamp of Prayer

    by NomadMonad on March 07, 2015

    Greetings, all you Song Meanies.

    Please let it be known, from the abysses of Gehenna unto the celestial courts of the Eternal King above, that I STILL love ʘʄɼɑ ɦɑʐɑ's face & voice.

    (my wife does not have a problem with this either...)

    BTW - have you noticed the incredible amount of activity at her thread here ?

    PS: did you know that it was her voice in Prince of Egypt



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  • More Selective Adaptation 4 U

    by NomadMonad on March 06, 2015

    MONKEYS !

    Y'all aint nuthin but SIGNIFYIN MONKEYS.   I had it with you.

    Give me back my CDs and my stereophonic record player.

    Give me back my first edition of Boccaccio. Give me back my memories of black & white TV.  Give me back my Vietnam War.  Give me back my Model A Ford.  

    Y'all suck.

    Time is approaching its fullness and the dreaded moon of doom is rising.

    Buy your ticket out of the monkeyhouse HERE.



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  • Lady Luck's cruel prank

    by Marixpress on February 27, 2015

    What to do when the person who nearly destroyed you is the same person that introduced you to many of your favorite songs? Do you avoid listening to them altogether because their meanings have been replaced by nightmares? Seems like a lose-lose either way.



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  • Shout-out to the Motherboard from the Fatherland

    by NomadMonad on February 26, 2015

    It's looking more and more like 3 people writing almost all of the boring journal posts here at Song Meanings under a variety of pseudonyms. 

    However I, Nomad Monad, DEMAND recognition as The Most Boring Writer.

    You'll never touch me so don't even TRY.

    Don't even bother dipping your quill again, you mere drip on the mildewed scroll of antediluvian parchment, you cuneiform Cunégonde, you proto-Canaanite pottery fragment, you keyboarding failed clown and archeological relic unworthy of preservation in a third-rate underfunded Albanian museum... 

    I, and I alone, dragged myself up from the protoplasmic slime to BORE you. 
    I transitioned from amphibian to anthropoid before your mama even MET the postman. I stood upright upon the bloody battleground of evolutionary struggle and SELECTED MYSELF (naturally). Now pass that banana right here. 

                                               Behold: The Missing Link



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