I'm having a difficult time coming to terms with the fact that my child is 7 months old already.
It doesn't seem like she should be this old, and I know that the older she gets the harder it is going to be to deal with.
I am extremely happy that I have the chance to be a stay at home mom. She makes my life so much better. And no, I'm not just saying that because its expected. She really does make my life so much better. I love being a mom. When I feel sad or I am pissed off about something, just hearing her laugh, is the best thing in the world. I absolutely adore her smile.
She is so happy and innocent. I pray that she stays that way.
Remember when I really hated Emo-core in high school? If you do then you probably thought I was obnoxious (I'm sure that was the only reason). I've gotten pretty good about not hating things just to hate, but there is still something about this band that I just cannot tolerate. I don't know if its the whole get-up (i.e. the make up and clothes whatever). I just find it obnoxious. It's like Lady Gaga for me, I feel as though she'd be a great musician on her own without the uncooked turkey on her head. Call me shallow.
The music isn't that great to me either: It's just bland. Robert Smith's voice doesn't do it for me. If your band is going to be famous for a lead singer he should be like a Robert Plant and like a David Bowie if hes going to be this level of eccentric.
In the end I suppose it just boils down to preference. What I won't do now that I might have in the past is tell you that you suck for liking The Cure.
::
2011 11 June :: 2.40am
:: Mood: creative
:: Music: "Love you till the end" By The Pogues
What Is Love
A love all-commanding, all-withstanding
Through a year is my love;
A grief darkly hiding, starkly biding
Without let or remove;
Of strength a sharp straining, past sustaining
Wheresoever I rove,
A force still extending without ending
Before and around and above.
Of Heaven 'tis the brightest amazement,
The blackest abasement of Hell,
A struggle for breath with a spectre,
In nectar a choking to death;
'Tis a race with Heaven's lightning and thunder,
Then Champion Feats under Moyle's water,
'Tis pursuing the cuckoo, the wooing
Of Echo, the Rock's airy daughter.
Till my red lips turn ashen,
My light limbs grow leaden,
My heart loses motion,
In Death my eyes deaden,
So is my love and my Passion,
So is my ceaseless devotion
To him to whom I gave them,
To him who will not have them.
What makes me happy about Jack Johnson is simply that there is no underlying theme I have to take into account in his music. It's pretty straightforward, and who can really be unhappy when thinking about sex and pancakes?
