This song has no title
"She just wanders around,
Unaffected by,
The winters winds
And she’ll pretend that
She’s somewhere else
So far and clear,
About 2000 miles from here."
I do believe the word ‘croon’ was invented for the sole purpose of expressing Chet Baker’s vocals.
Friday, someone told me I have charisma…I wonder what he meant by that.
I worry I don’t have enough idiosyncrasies to keep people interested.
I look into the eyes of drivers as they pass by on the roads, hoping I’ll catch a glimpse of who they are, hope to be, might one day become, simply through naïve, juvenile, eye contact.
I’m a stranger in this town, and at times, that makes me feel more strange than I fear I truly am. The mere word itself, stranger, implies characteristics uncommon to the surroundings, and I suppose that, by definition, labels me a stranger. But must that also make me strange? Is being a stranger derogatory, a negative aspect?... it certainly seems so at present.
Am I too young to feel things so strongly? I‘ve never suffered a broken heart, mourned the loss of a sincerely loved one, encountered a tragedy so horrendous to justify my present condition.
Why is it that the best writers led lives of utter confusion, despair and torture? Must one suffer inconsolable losses and mental anguish to be a creative genius? Do I portend my own "tragedies" simply to justify myself? Sometimes I fear that I shall die a tragic, premature death. My life doesn't appear conducive to an expansive, Hollywood happy ending. Hopefully I'm wrong.
Unaffected by,
The winters winds
And she’ll pretend that
She’s somewhere else
So far and clear,
About 2000 miles from here."
I do believe the word ‘croon’ was invented for the sole purpose of expressing Chet Baker’s vocals.
Friday, someone told me I have charisma…I wonder what he meant by that.
I worry I don’t have enough idiosyncrasies to keep people interested.
I look into the eyes of drivers as they pass by on the roads, hoping I’ll catch a glimpse of who they are, hope to be, might one day become, simply through naïve, juvenile, eye contact.
I’m a stranger in this town, and at times, that makes me feel more strange than I fear I truly am. The mere word itself, stranger, implies characteristics uncommon to the surroundings, and I suppose that, by definition, labels me a stranger. But must that also make me strange? Is being a stranger derogatory, a negative aspect?... it certainly seems so at present.
Am I too young to feel things so strongly? I‘ve never suffered a broken heart, mourned the loss of a sincerely loved one, encountered a tragedy so horrendous to justify my present condition.
Why is it that the best writers led lives of utter confusion, despair and torture? Must one suffer inconsolable losses and mental anguish to be a creative genius? Do I portend my own "tragedies" simply to justify myself? Sometimes I fear that I shall die a tragic, premature death. My life doesn't appear conducive to an expansive, Hollywood happy ending. Hopefully I'm wrong.
posted by Chishiki Lauren at 7:23 PM
1 Comments:
Actually—and I only know this because your comment intrigued me enough to look it up—the earliest known example of the word 'croon' appears around 1460 in the Towneley Mystery Plays: "Let se how ye croyne. Can ye bark at the mone?". It appears to be a dialectical term borrowed from Low German and initially confined to Scotland and the north of England. It only entered standard English in the nineteenth century, perhaps with the rising interest in Scots poetry and language. The verbal noun 'crooning' used to describe a particular style of song actually appears in print several years before Chet Baker was born, in a 1926 description of the song "Carolina Mammy" by Billy James, referred to as "A real Southern mammy song ... the crooning kind". So there you go ... You’re going to discover sooner or later that the real secret of my knowledge is merely high-speed Internet access and a university subscription to the OED. Anyhow, crooning aside, I too hope you find that happy ending you’re wishing for ...
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