• my muse,  the anomaly that is me

    because my parents aren’t on facebook or twitter

    I’m embedding these here, too! It’s been 2 years since I’ve played my guitar so I pulled it out of the closet last week when I was feeling really down. There’s a hair-style change between the first and second. 😉 Long Gone I Thought I Loved You I still haven’t been able to write a new song in what seems like forever, but hopefully my downward spiral will convince my muse to resurface and help me create again. I’m itching to write something, I just can’t. Nothing comes out when I try. Anyhow, my long weekend is over and I’m back to work tomorrow and I never got out to the store to buy my fruit for the day. Oops. At least I had a relaxing long weekend! Weather was perfect and I got to see Monkey and Mr Monkey on Saturday morning for a bit. I needed this break!

  • my muse

    ye olde ode to valentine’s day

      He Shoots Again cupid’s arrow has done it again just like a bull’s eye it struck my heart and made me love he made me love someone i can never have oh, cupid is playing darts with his bow and arrow and my heart is the board he shoots and he shoots some more until my heart is sore and he shoots again i hear the laughter again to him it’s just a game there’s pleasure in my pain and he made me love he made me love someone i’ll never have without your help i can do just fine please leave the choice up to me look at all the pain you’ve caused in all of history, romeo and juliet, adam and eve would have been just fine without you why don’t you just leave? and he shoots again and he shoots again he’s drunk on love’s passion he’s crazy for love he needs it, he wants it he’ll take it ’til you’re sore he’s just got to, got to got to have more and he shoots again oh, cupid is playing darts with his bow and arrow and my heart is the board he shoots and he shoots some more until my heart is sore and he shoots again   © cjh february 4, 1993  

  • my muse

    fog

    it’s never been an easy road but i know it could have always been worse and I don’t want to sound unappreciative but I could do with a break if it’s not one thing it’s another and sometimes it’s even both and i’m not expecting miracles don’t even want to win the lotto but i admit, that’d be nice it’s just that i’m so tired and i’m so sick, sick sick and i’m so sick and tired of being sick and tired if it’s not one thing it’s another and usually it’s always both and i’ve never been the lucky one though i’ve had my share of luck and i’m not discounting the little things it’s just the bigger ones just suck and i’m so tired and just when you think it’s getting better and you take one more step up on that ladder and you can finally almost see all around you that’s when the ladder starts to topple the fog rolls in and stops you and while suffocating you have to start your climb again and if it’s not one thing it’s another normally it’s both and i’m so sick and tired of being so, so tired © cjh january 5, 2007

  • my muse

    soul song

    i don’t know who i’m becoming but i’m not the person i always thought i’d be seems i’ve forgotten the song that my soul’s supposed to sing i can no longer hear the music i’ve lost the melody who am i? who am i supposed to be? i used to find solace in the wings of my muse she used to whisper the notes in my ear but i’ve long since forgotten the tune

  • my muse

    too much

        there’s a rock in my stomach heavy cold its sharp edges piercing me from within piercing my heart piercing my lungs stop squeezing me i’m suffocating silence is too loud in my head my heart beats too fast it echos through my body there’s a rock in my stomach weighing me down unbalanced and shaking holding me down

  • my muse

    fear

      it’s a fear i’ve never felt a fear i fear to fear breathtaking heart wrenching suffocating fear in the shadows it grows i see it in a look, a laugh in each second that passes don’t tell me it’s unwarrented i know how this goes my heart’s being squeezed in a vice there’s not enough air not enough air in here it’s a fear i fear to fear to fear august 23, 2006

  • my muse

    suburban refugee

      morning comes soon in this place up with the dawn the night’s barely gone a new day i guess life will go on and i’ve lost to the demons in my head they’re pounding now overly loud and shouting at me to pay attention to their needs and it’s deafening what’s happening to me? in a blink of an eye it all past me by under cover of smoke suffocated and choked turned upside down and inside out before you could figure it out and now i’m displaced nothing makes sense and i’m suffocating in shadows and smoke just want to fix what’s been broke and i’m losing this internal war june 12, 2006

  • my muse

    good girl

        always the good girl always the good girl always the responsible one trying your hardest try to be honest don’t want to offend anyone but it’s not good enough it’s not good enough sit back and watch those who never try get it handed to them on a silver platter seething writhing jealousy why can’t it be me? choke it down swallow it guilt rises up the bitter taste so sick of it always the good girl always on time always the safe one but it’s not good enough it’s not good enough when will i be good enough? never good enough always the good girl so why am i crying? june 12, 2006

  • jinx,  life with dogs,  my muse

    jinx wants to be a rock star, too!

    So I was playing around with my guitar and my camera and I thought I might try and record my songs and maybe, possibly, share some with you. But I haven’t played my guitar in over a year, honestly. And it’s kind of too big for me… AND it’s harder to play since I’ve gained weight due to my, um, upper body parts getting in the way. But I still wanted to see if my camera could record me… and it did. But then… Jinx thought he’d come help. [click the photo to see Jinx help me sing]

  • my muse

    dear music executives

    I want a record deal, damnit. I don’t want millions of dollars.. I just want to sing. And make music videos because they are cool. So, just call me already. written september 26, 2000 recorded february 18, 2006 in my apartment. 😉 [click photo for song]

  • my muse

    precious

    if i were a flower would you pick me? would you paint me? would you save me? would you press me between the pages of your favourite novel and keep me forever? it’s the little things love it’s what we keep, what we hold sacrifice love if i were a flower would you throw me to the floor would you crush me would you save me and press me between the pages of your favourite novel and keep me forever, love it’s the little things that prove i’m so in love i’m so in love i’m so in love i’m so… if i were a moonbeam would i be a sparkle in your eye would you hold me in your heart if i were a flower would you pick me? would you press me between the pages of your favourite novel and keep me forever precious love

  • my muse

    she awakens (updated)

      it’s the awkward silence that follows that brings doubts to the act that we’ve played on this night in the dark in this room don’t turn the light on i can’t stand to see you what felt so right is now just a bad taste on my tongue you are comfort at the time you are are red hot embers burning my skin so. these are the words that with fervor are spoken as we lay tangled together in this terrible joke with our love on the line and both our hearts breaking i just can’t recall if this risk is worth taking then you whisper the nothings i need to hear most when i’m trapped on the edge so far but so close in the dark in this room my fever spikes i’m swallowed by the undertow and i’m on the edge i’m on the edge i’m on the edge of the world i’m on the edge i’m on the edge i’m on the edge and i can’t help keep myself from falling   february 4, 2006 august 19, 2005

  • my muse

    dancing barefoot in the snow

    and all my heroes are gone. I’ve torn the posters from my wall. They’re lost to me. Much like my muse. When this happened, I’m not really sure. One day I just woke up and realized I didn’t have any heroes or passion for anything any more. Not like I used to. nothing consumes me anymore. Not sadness, not hate, not anger, not love. There used to be this super-sensitive, passionate part of me. That part would be in control (or out of control, more like) almost constantly. Now? There’s just this numbness. Something smothering my spirit. I used to suffocate from desire, now my desire is the one suffocating. there was a time I’d sit at the edge of my seat, giddy with anticipation waiting to hear or see something I was obsessed with for so long. My goddess was a musician. Her melodies and words touched me in the deepest part of my soul. With every breath I’d shiver and shine. Emotions poured out of my being with each syllable I heard. To see her in person or on screen was almost an orgasmic sensation. Her sadness was my sadness. Her angst mine. She filled me with hope and sadness simultaneously. that passion has died within me. I can’t seem to get it back. It was the passion of youth I think. A youth that I didn’t like when I was a part of it. Sometimes I long for the stabbing pain of despair that incapacitated me so…

  • my muse

    wilting

    i can sit here watching the clock on the wall and time barely moves forward i can sit here and sit here… and sit here and never move forward my petals wilt my spirit fades and i sit here and nothing moves forward

  • my muse

    deep within

    i dream. i hurt. i love. i feel. i am not made of stone nor ice nor sand though a fire burns fierce within me red it flares and ignites anger consumes rage smothers but i go on and i live another day