#hummusrhymeswithtomas

[space-lesbians]

hummusrhymeswithtomas replied to your post:My tablet pen is under my purse. it was blending...

bedazzle it

that's not an awful idea

I should at least paint it glow in the dark or something

[bugsongs]

hummusrhymeswithtomas replied to your post “oh man i hecked up”

IGBOK

oh without a doubt but i still feel like an idiot haha

[pianosmasher]

Do Sun Kil Moon's cover of Modest Mouse's "Space Travel is Boring" and then do "Old Chokes" by Frameworks and then do "Mojo Pin" by Jeff Buckley and then do "Sandy" by Whirr. In that order.

Okay Tomas here it goes.

"Space Travel is Boring"

The ocean lapped against the sandy shores of the beach. You wouldn’t believe how the stars can twinkle twice (once for the sky, twice for the ocean) until you see it, and once you see it, it’s too late, ‘cause you won’t forget it. I won’t forget it.

I want to say I was alone but there were other people at the beach with me. I remember watching two boys tugging on their mother’s arms, asking to stay just a few more minutes. I remember being like them. When they started walking away, I thought to myself, this time I don’t have to leave. But I couldn’t tell if that was for the better.

Because here I am, lying at the edge of land, paperback in my left hand, emptiness in my right, and I’m watching the moon crush me with its brightness. And I don’t want to leave, though I know that I wouldn’t feel this way if I didn’t. I want to be crushed, but worse - I know that I wanted to be crushed.

I want to say I was alone because that’s how I felt.

"Old Chokes"

Making our way down the hill. Tumbling, more like it. Nearly dodging the trees. Until I slipped and slammed right into one. Left a nasty bruise on my head later but for now I was just dizzy. You stopped to hear me tell you I was bleeding. Came down like raindrops on the other side of a car window. I thought it was something different.

Don’t get hurt very often. Don’t go into the woods very often, don’t get up early for a hike very often, don’t have a friend to drag me by the heels very often. Something about the way the light passed through the canopy of leaves above us. Visceral. So absolutely raw.

You asked if I was hurt. Of course I was hurt. Smiled. Relished the thought. I am hurt and therefore I am alive.

"Mojo Pin"

Where am I? I feel a mattress under me. Bed. Okay I’m on a bed. Lying down. The light comes back to my vision. This is my house, my bed. I am in the sheets. I feel like I haven’t moved for hours so probably just woke up. I turn over to find a bottle of wine on the hardwood floor next to me. That explains why I’m so disoriented.

I’m alone but that doesn’t mean I slept alone. I would check my phone but I can’t find it. Head is pounding. Okay don’t move. Close your eyes and think.

I can remember the bar. Yes I can remember ordering a drink. I can also remember ordering her a drink. Who is she? With her black hair in a ponytail and painted nails and feline eyes, who is she? Who do I think she is?

I remember a bathroom. I remember throwing myself into her like an animal. It was absolutely primal. I cringe at the thought of it. It was so unlike me, but the energy burst out of my chest and I could not hold it back. I’d blame the alcohol if I didn’t know better. But she knew. She understood and she accepted it. I remember she grabbed me by the neck and stopped me to say something. She told me she was empty. She dared me to make her feel something. I did what I could.

I don’t know if we fucked there or here or anywhere, but I felt like I knew it happened. It must have. I wouldn’t have let her leave me without it. And sure as shit, on the nightstand, there was a note written in her dark lipstick. “Thank you.” Thank you. But please, come back to me some day.

"Sandy"

I turned on the television to a static station. Silence would be too much and I didn’t want it any longer. But I didn’t want to “hear” anything, either. I wanted the opposite of silence, which is not noise, but neutral filler. I needed it quiet without being quiet.

I lay down on the couch, a jack and coke in my left hand that hung off the edge. I thought of how many cigarettes I smoked today. I began to wonder if it was too much, but then I laughed because it’s all relative, isn’t it? To some, one is too much. To others, a pack a day means you only have a problem. Never any mention of “too much” to me. I am remarkably docile to everyone I meet.

But I don’t want to be. Oh god I do not want to be. I wish I could tell you how much I want to sing. I wish I could verbalize how wonderful it would be to cut across a crowd’s emotional threshold using nothing but a microphone. I could fill a silo with my energy. I avoid calling it passion. Passion is a thing you chase. Energy is a thing that chases beside you. An encouraging friend is energy. I want to be that friend to others.

I began to dream of the music I could create. I hadn’t heard anything like it before. I could live in here. I could die in this place. I could die in my place. I hope I do.

[pianosmasher]

Lucas and I were jamming yesterday and I think he got mad at me. He kept telling me things about the guitar I never asked about, like how he used to take lessons but doesn't anymore, and how he isn't studying the guitar at all because he doesn't have time. He went off on these things and stopped making eye contact with me. He might have thought I didn't notice, but I did, because it was familiar.

The thing about New York is that everything here is backwards. Here, I am the one who makes things happen. Here, I do the dishes, and cook, and give advice at the gym. Here, I am a leader, and not a follower.

I wanted to tell him about meeting Scott and Ian and Tomas and Ryan and Drew for the first time. I wanted to tell him how it felt to watch my senses of status and confidence slowly fall out of my hands and onto the floor below me. I wanted to tell him that I, too, tried to justify my complete and utter lack of skill to the masters of their instruments, sounding off impossible riffs with such aplomb that I could swear they made them up on the spot. I, too, looked away, and felt my shame turn to jealous, and jealousy climb, ascending the tower of my rational mind until I could think of nothing else but the envy inside of me. I wish I could communicate the irony I feel now.

I spent my whole life behind in Nashville. My music was stale and insignificant in the shadow of the great giants of today that my friends would sing along to in practice rooms, garages, and backs of cars, leaving me in silence. I didn't even have a record player for the vinyl records they held up with pride. I spent my whole musical life under par. It got me angry enough to practice, an hour a day, every day, but even that was futile, because everyone else was already doing the same, independent of my own feelings or concerns. I stayed behind.

It took me years to realize that the ones that mattered didn't care. Everyone came around to making it clear: they accepted me. I played in bands with them. I jammed with them. I created music as equals. They made me realize that there was never a race, only a common destination we were all walking towards, a path we are still on today. I stopped caring whether or not I was good enough or knew the right music or acted the right way, and I started worrying about having fun for a change. And I did have fun. So much so that I would kill for another garage packed with everyone in the neighborhood. I want my microphone back, and my bass, and Drew's thundering drum kit behind me, and Scott and Ryan and Tomas' triple threat of guitar work mercilessly assailing the audience. I miss it every day of my life. I found family on that makeshift stage. I'll never forget that.

Now? Now I sit down with my guitar and imagine us all, in one way or another, doing the same thing. I imagine Tomas sanding his right-hand fingernails down, about to write his next riff. I imagine Ryan moving chord shapes around the neck of his SG just for the hell of it. I imagine Ian, fresh on the high of a Kaki King record, ready to pull something else out of his acoustic. I imagine Scott warming his fingers up on his favorite Ibanez, waiting for the new words to come to him. I imagine Drew on those four familiar strings we share, picking through his favorite anchors and closing his eyes, going crazy on the frets like he always used to. That's why I practice now. An hour a day, every day. Not out of envy, but solidarity. Out of the bottom of my heart.

Here, I am the guitarist. Here, I am the songwriter. Here, I am the musical conqueror. I bring the sound to everyone I meet. And I do so because I learned from the best.

I wanted to tell Lucas, right then and there. I wanted to let him know that it was okay. I just couldn't find the words. But maybe, there are no words. Maybe it's a feeling you get when you're with the right people at all the right times and you let your instincts take over and the jigsaw finally falls into place, the way it did for me.

[slopeseologist]

hummusrhymeswithtomas replied to your post:Time for my annual, “Okay, I guess I’ll give Bruce...

not worth it bro

Ended up listening to Ariel Pink and Eric Dolphy instead.

Also, go listen to this.

http://williegreen.bandcamp.com/album/a-suite-for-souled-people

[slopeseologist]

new Kendrick single and new milo. Good day.

Haven’t heard the new Kendrick. The new milo I’m buying first thing friday. Probably on vinyl. brucewavy for life. 

EDIT: Milo album is awesome.

[imonislandtime]

thank you thatsweetsoundof-humility for the tag!

rules: you can tell a lot about someone by the type of music that they listen to, hit shuffle on your iPod, phone, itunes, media player, etc. and write down the first 20 songs, then pass this on to 10 people. One rule: no skipping

Over the Hills and Faraway - Led Zeppelin

Crazy Love - Daniel Johnston

Severus and Stone - Radical Face

Pitter Patter Goes My Heart - Broken Social Scene

J. Brahms/Sonata Op.120 No.2 - Bornkamp

Strung Out Again - Elliott Smith

BYE - Riley With Fire

Rome - Phoenix

Simple Way - Port O'Brien

Walking Without Frankie - Okkervil River

Bible Belt - Dry The River

Three Card Trick - The Clash

Pages Written on a Wall - Margot & The Nuclear So and So's

She's a Handsome Woman - Panic! At The Disco

The Latest Toughs - Okkervil River

Gaspard de la Nuit No. 3 Scarbo - Jean-Yves Thibaudet

We Are Free Men - Bright Eyes

Mistaken For Stranger - The National

Apple Valley - The Red River

Villanova Junction - Jimi Hendrix

if i didn't tag you just do it and tag me in the thing because i wanna see it i just suck at remembering people's usernames.

unsignedletters sippinchoc pianosmasher hummusrhymeswithtomas hotknivves pepitaparty pelodesirena dearworldloveellie youwerenotthesun brightstarrr

[pianosmasher]

Have you heard of The World Is A Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid To Die? I think you'd like them.

Did you mean: the band that all of my friends have been telling me about for the past year of my life? Haha, yes, I have heard of them, but I’ve never really given their stuff a chance. I feel like I’m always behind or ahead of my friends when it comes to listening to new stuff. Usually I’m off in other territory while they stick with the new emo scene and I tend to miss a lot. So maybe I’ll finally check it out for myself.