One would think my abstinence from writing means that a wonderfully marvelous 2k wordcount piece is being generated over the past two weeks, but, yeah.
Since any last entry, I've married two Ukrainian girls, drank liters of drinks and written three songs, or maybe four. Memories are fading away, so the described events are backwards or mixed up.
Today I made my first sale for the company, about 9k euros. They might forgive the past misfortunes now.
A friend asked me to accompany her with a song today, so I was listening to Imagine and thinking of why it is so popular. I've heard how The Beatles established the pop music sound*, but the first pop song doesn't mean more to me than the hundreds produced today. The lyrics are great, but otherwise, why would you care about who did it first, not who did it the best way for your needs?
Every time I mention how I don't really listen to The Beatles, someone always goes berserk on my ass, because apparently these guys are an exception to the whole "to each his own" thing. Besides, they have created a huge cult and a brand name, with bags, t-shirts, cups, re-releases etc., which is hardly different to what modern pop artists** do. It's cool and trendy to listen to Beatles, but the music is subject to individual opinions just like anything else.
VILNIUS
Saturday night we hopped on to a bus to travel for about seven hours to the heart of Lithuania. Three guys with huge bags, two tripods, stands, poles, cameras, microphones, recorders, lights, reflectors and a clapper.
I hadn't slept much before that, so the night bus seemed appealing, but that didn't work. As we arrived and settled in, the first shooting took place in the morning, in a church, that used to be a cinema. The best part of that was definitely the choir, in fact, I really want to apply for a church choir now, and I don't know if it's possible to do without any religious background.
An incomplete rundown of the other shooting places:
1. Some fancy club that used to be a cinema. Great atmosphere (at least when it was empty) with a piano on a dark stage, perfect acoustics. Daniel and I wanted to come back the next day to record some pieces on it, since we have superb sound equipment and superb piano skills. Vytautas didn't want to bother them anymore. Too bad.
2. A bar that used to be a cinema. Completely fucking empty, except for the two bartender girls, two security guys and a friend of security guys, and us, four people filming and recording sound. Music blasting on full volume, crazy lights illuminating colorful dots around the place and the only features actually in use were the smoking room and toilets.
3. A room in a church, run by an impolite priest, that used to be a cinema, now offers some private screenings, as far as I understood. There was a piano with some text written in chalk on the side, the priest forbid us to film that.
[Information lost]
*Please don't kill me for my abstractly approximate knowledge of music genres, never cared to learn the names and history of that.
**Because you are an artist if you preform songs written by others, just like you are the chef when you bring the food from kitchen to the table)
PART 2
The following is an approximate translation from an entry originally written for the other blog.
I found a new Where Is My Mind cover.
How to describe the loneliness without whining?
Right now I'm drinking coke from yesterdays party, smoking my shitty cigarettes and not working, because I'm tired as fuck. Can't sleep as well, because I forgot to do the laundry and now an hour has to be spent awake. There's a feeling that others are tired of me again. Started to write a song, almost decent lyrics, but melody can go fuck itself, and the chords can go fuck themselves and my fingers can go fuck themselves.
A reminder that this song exists.
Shit, gotta make a list with the songs that I try to advertise for others, because they're awesome, but nobody else likes them, and then I'm sitting home and my heart is pounding, and I don't know what to do, because I have to talk things over, but nobody else cares. And then everyone is surprised that I go to the christian cafe every day, where everyone is polite and talks to me, and secretly tries to save me. Maybe one day I'll be the guy running around with a maniacal smile while searching for my bible.
In the moments, when I escape the void, I pour myself into the wrong person purely out of desperation. And then it's shitty and awkward for everyone. Meanwhile I keep the fantasy of fleeing to Vilnius and marrying that girl.
Also, fuck you if you write a question and don't follow it with a question mark in emails. That's the second worst thing I've seen anyone with a university degree do to language. It looks fucking angry, if it's not - it's misleading, if it is, why can't you just write the whatever out properly, so I can understand why you're angry.
I see no future for this blog as a blog. I've tried but there's even less emotional feedback than in real life. I should write articles. Don't be surprised, if nothing is posted over the summer in English.
No comments:
Post a Comment