Actually, I really dont care about DM, I just wanted a catchy title.
Right, so the holidays are finally over. And good riddance. Sure, I still got some presents to hand out, but they're more appropriate as friemdly gifts than christmass presents. Oh, who cares. I treat my friends to cool stuff cause I love them and thats all that there is to it.
Now, that being say, on to the rest of the program.
I have managed a bit of writing, now that I've formatted and updated the old workhorse. I'd love to say that its efficient, but basically, its efficient as far as not going on the internet goes. Otherwise, I can burn CDs, convert 5 years of cassette recording into the digital format (and witness the decay!) and write like a pro, now that I run OpenOffice! The only problem with that application is that you cant just fucking write with it, it constantly tries to play around with the text. What I need is a simple, word-processing program that will let me type however I fucking want and point out my spelling errors. Thats all. I dont think I'm asking too much? Why so I feel like I need a 3-month class in the damn thing to make it work my way? At least now I know just how many words I've writen. Not bad, but should be way better.
So I've started going through the old tape archive of the various "musical" endeavours of the last five years. And man, theres a hell of a lot of stuff there. I've barely skimmed the top and I crammed the memory on the workhorse, poor bastard. HE, I think that I just found it's name, Poor Bastard. Anyhow, the not so big surprise is that what I thought was good then, pretty much hasnt changed. I still have to dig through lots and lots of tape, and I know that there's some lost gems in there, somewhere. Oddly enough, my best recordings were almost always done solo. What makes the whole endeavour so interesting too is that it could alomost be released as bootlegs, since its very sounds (hell, it was!) recorded poorly, with a basic tape deck most of the time. I go back to those days and now I miss the creative energy that was just floating, where we could just sit down and make a halfdozen songs from scratch in an afternoon, where lyrics just came to me.
Those were poorer days, and thats a part I dont really miss, that and the crummy appartment. I was however getting layed more then. Sign of age? Maybe.
But I'm still rock'n'roll, baby.