#2
Yesterday I watched a documentary about the fantastic Melody Gardot. I've listen to her before, but got tired of her voice and the whole "jazz-thing". I don't like jazz. And it takes a lot to make me listen, like and keep on listening to a female voice. But this woman really changed my dull perspective on my own sex's vocals, aswell as jazz. Her story touched me, her mind, words, and style. When I look at her I realize how much my long hair ment to me, now I want it back even more! She's got this romantic aura surrounding her, at the same time it's like a dark cloud is following her everywhere she goes. "An old soul", is what she called herself in the film. I think that of myself too, sometimes.
I miss those times when I could pick the most sensitive and powerful words out of the blue, and put them in a bunch of poems.
When my mind is in a state between depression and happiness, that's where I belong. When you feel nor less, nor more. When it can go both ways.
I look at my violin and wish that I had never quit playing.
This one's for you, and all lost souls out there.
If you're going downhill, this will take you higher - but not too high.
If you're on a piedestal, this will cut it down - but not too low.
