"You could pursue it, hell I could do it/I'll just be quiet when I get angry and hurt/I'm stopping traffic, cinemagraphic/With my long black coat hanging down in the dirt/And my hair clinging to my face in the rain/Like a goddess from the cult of beautiful pain/I don't want to be another mystery, oh no/I don't want to be another mystery/I could cut you off with a shoulder of stone/Smoke all night and leave the party alone/Screw myself with an inscrutable pout/But I just want you to come figure me out.."

Wow, do those lyrics describe me or what? Not like anyone would really know because that is the side of me that only I see. "I'll just be quiet when I get angry and hurt," and "The goddess from the cult of beautiful pain," is totally me. The latter is such a great line. Anyway, tomorrow I start yoga. It should be pretty interesting, and maybe it will inspire in me some new material to work with. I wrote a song today...well half of a song. I just need to figure out the lyrics for the rest. All I seem to be doing lately is writing songs. So, its not like I have a dry spell of inspiration--I just want more. There's nothing quality that makes me stop and really say to myself, "Wow, that was really good," like I do with most Dar and Jewel songs. Who knows? Maybe I'm not supposed to be a writer.

"I am wretched, I'm tired/ But the preacher's on fire/ and I wish I could believe.../ Whoever watches over all these truckers/ have a little mercy for a weary sinner/ and deliver me/ Lord, deliver me/ to the next Best Western." -Richard Shindell

Yeah. I'm scared....of myself. I saw my youth today, and I don't know how to take her disappearance. Dar Williams is playing over and over in my mind saying, "Farewell to the old me," and its bugging the shit out of me. I don't want to say good-bye...but I must because if I don't I'll be trapped in this labrynth of fear the rest of my life. So whatever. Don't talk to strangers, they fuck with your mind.