I’m An Extraordinary Machine


It’s hard to actually get something down on (figurative) paper when you’re imagining how every single sentence is going to be taken. I so badly want to be understood, but am terrified of being misunderstood, which is far more likely when you share something with the entirety of the internet. I would like to be open with you but I’m not sure what you’ve ever done to deserve it. The point of this opening paragraph is to let you know, that I’m going to talk, but not about that.

I’m going to talk about songwriting, because it’s what gave me the freedom to talk about that. I mean that’s not always what it’s been about, once upon a time I just wanted to be taken seriously as an artist, like Avril Lavigne *, and figured I could only accomplish that if I wrote my own songs. And those songs are jems. I promise you, never has a lyric rang more true than, “you walk around with your Abercrombie shirts, and your friends with the poufs like they washed up on the jersey shore”**. I might’ve been ridiculous, but I needed that time to work extremely hard on becoming a serious artist, so that one day I’d actually have the skills to put complicated thoughts, feelings and life experiences into a coherent song.

Writing a song is now a process. It’s my favourite process in the whole goddamn world. It’s even better than the digestion process, which has at least two good components. *** It’s finding a moment alone to grab my notebook (or in more recent years Evernote) and make a badly written rant about whatever is bothering me. It’s going through that rant and finding one or two phrases that keep ringing through my head for the next few days. It’s rewriting that phrase somewhere else and focusing on it intently. It’s realizing that this isn’t just the catchiest phrase, this is the most important thought, this is the overarching theme of my new song. And then it’s analyzing the situation that gave birth to this thought and every similar previous one to build upon my blossoming song. ****

What I’m getting at here, is that it’s my way of releasing my emotions and understanding myself. And in the end I have this completed product that I’m proud of (for at least a few years before I’m making fun of it in a blog post). I take the bad shit and I use it as fuel to create something (immo*****) beautiful,  Fiona Apple put it best,  I’m an extraordinary machine.******

* Italics here indicate sarcasm. Not that Avril Lavigne isn’t a serious artist, but I’m not sure she’s ever been regarded that way, and taking the punk persona well into the 2010s certainly hasn’t helped.
** From a song called Basic that can be found on my Myspace Music. And yes, I did start ‘basic’, you’re welcome.
*** I’m trying to make a joke about how much I love to eat and poop here. Digestion includes both of those right? It starts when you start eating and ends when you poop? Frankly, I don’t know what digestion really means and I’m not committed enough to the joke or the respectability of this blog to look it up.
**** This is the condensed version of the process, which also includes talking to myself as an interviewer who is getting the scoop on the most anticipated release of the millennium.
***** Immo : In My Mom’s Opinion
****** My half assed attempt to tie this post back to the title.

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