Thu, 19 May 2005

what i remember of the song she wrote for me, one
At first it made me happy, all the standing up for me she did, how she championed me in any company, and then I saw it start to wear on her, how before she could say anything to certain people, people who were otherwise her friends, she had to rego through the seemingly endless debate about whether or not I was using her, holding her down, pulling the heat from her body in exchange for some poential future interest on my “talent”. I haven’t had to make these sorts of arguments since I moved out of my parents house, and had assumed they had ended, but it became obvious they had just changed venues and participants. I thought it would help if I could return the favor, make a public statement of support against the general concensus of doubt, and so, over time, I convinced her to start performing her songs at parties, at open mics, anywhere she could lug her guitar.
(12:25.05.19.2005) [/scrytch] #