this'll be the year

i get myself together

made myself a pact

this time to do much better

signed in violet ink

in smudged capital letters

"be the best me you can be

in 2020" (2? already?)

delete my shopping apps

and ones with food delivery

read up on mindfulness

to keep my thoughts real steady

re-joined my old gym

can't wait to get real sweaty

"planet fitness is now

closed this week for disinfection-" already?

[chorus]

catch me on teamspeak

crying into my lean cuisine

'cause it's shapin' up to be a

new year, same me

catch me at the listening party

vaping some cbd

'cause it's shapin' up to be a

new year, same me

new year, same me

new year, same me

new year, same me

don't know who else i could be

new year, same me

new year, same me

new year, same me

what do i want to be

ella fitzgerald cover, in the style of zooey deschanel/joseph gordon-levitt.

sorry for the double cover, i swear i'll write something original in 2022 ;_;

amy winehouse cover i couldn't finish cuz i ran out of time aaaaaa

bonus entry, please don't vote

lyrics:
(groan)
it's now, i guess?

there's a you-shaped piece

of baggage i carry

and it still weighs

on my heart heavily

they said i did the best i could

is it the best

when you are gone for good?

please tell me if i should

let go

toss it off a cliff

with the rest of it

let go

down into the rubble

with the rest of my troubles

wringing my hands

won't bring you back

so let me know

know if i can

let go

"Although the villagers had forgotten the ritual and lost the original black box, they still remembered to

use stones. The pile of stones the boys had made earlier was ready; there were stones on the ground

with the blowing scraps of paper that had come out of the box. Delacroix selected a stone so large she

had to pick it up with both hands and turned to Mrs. Dunbar. "Come on," she said. "Hurry up."

Mr. Dunbar had large stones in both hands, and she said, gasping for breath. "I can't run at all. You'll

have to go ahead, and I'll catch up with you."

The children had stones already. And someone gave little Davy Hutchinson few pebbles."

-- from "The Lottery" by Shirley Jackson

according to some "secret of mana" wiki entry i must've seen a month ago, the japanese title also translates to "ritual." i had "The Lottery" in mind and all the speculated pomp and circumstance that used to go on pre-stoning when arranging this.

really wanted to feature a children's choir in there and wanted to support it with instruments that were equal parts "cute" and "unnerving:" celesta, glockenspiel, and pizzicato strings. i added some adult choir bits for extra meat. i also added a little bit of timpani that turned into a whole lot more timpani than i had anticipated.

here's to all of the classics

and everything in that demographic

first editions, flaky spines

thoughts run together in wavy lines

but still it's so tragic

to see them stripped of all of the magic

raw emotion in its prime

gone to humidity and time

(mini-keane cover, because i forgot to write lyrics ._.;;;;;;;)

you and seven other couples take to the floor. the scent of hairspray and roll-on body glitter hangs heavily in the air. you can see the hunger in everyone elses' eyes; like you, they've been training for months for a chance at the top spot. can you and your partner catch the eye of the judges, and can you remember to smile?

this was a love letter to my amateur ballroom competition days, and all the fierceness (both colloquially and literally, these were some beautiful, scary motherf--ckers) from my fellow competitors. shout out to my older brother, who broke a shelf with all of his dance medals and trophies. sadly, i never really placed much higher than a certificate of participation.

i really wanted to tap into the aggressive spirit of competitive dance; juxtaposing a social dance (salsa) with a battle theme was extremely fun. i don't think it's quite salsa enough to be considered salsa, but i think you can dance to it if you really tried (i was able to get a couple of steps down to it)

EDIT: tempo was really bugging me. i originally had it at the original 143 but it was too fast to dance to, so i slowed it down to 130 before submitting. now it's a slightly speedier but still dance-able 135.

pour me through a sieve

a scene in cinnamon and cream

i got one shot to espresso

oh, express the way i feel

i'm still redeyed and confused

about the way i feel 'bout you

'cuz you had made the coffee,

and i just shot the news

we fall into routines

and you don't know how much it meaned

to me the last time when you said

"there's pigeon shit on your jeans"

oh, when you shuddered down

after the virus came around

though i chug starbucks now

i miss the psl at ol' beantown

ripped a bit from "ozymandias," hope that's cool!

(lyrics)

bury me under a sheet of sand

bury me once more

like you did before

bury me under the seat

of your gilded throne

of blood and bone

water

feel the current coming

harder

feel my grief oncoming

(water)

while you waste time

building castles on the sand

water

hear my people shouting

harder

while you're empire's crumblin'

water

when the waves start calling

know i had a hand

look on thy works, ye mighty and despair

'cause i was there

of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

so say your prayers

when you say you see

parts of yourself in me

in the cuts and burns

reflected on my skin

but then suddenly

when reminded of your fraility

you resent

what i represent

and you fear what's within

that's why i can't be

the one you love

being with you doesn't feel right

don't say you need me

or that i'm sent from above

know it's just a trick of the light

take it step by step

keep your eyes ahead

don't lose sight of your goal

though it's hard to tread

please don't lose your head

you'll make it home

keep my head above water

though the current gets stronger

i'll keep the fight up longer

(i owe it to you)

though my doubt's gettin' louder

weakness grows by the hour

you couldn't be any prouder

(i owe it to you)

take it step by step

keep your eyes ahead

don't lose sight of your goal

though it's hard to tread

please don't lose your head

you'll make it home

take it step by step

keep your eyes ahead

don't lose sight of your goal

though it's hard to tread

please don't lose your head

you'll make it home

i dunno why i came here

air is brutal

sun's too near

ten bucks for water

so i chug my beer

bass is screaming       

i can't hear

thoughts over the speaker

tho i made it clear

i'd never come back in a million years

sorry for being a stick in the mud

i don't go out much these days

social anxiety coaxes out

demons in gestures most mundane

why'd that girl shoot me that look?

does she know all that it took

to get my butt out of-

(oh, i dropped my keys? oh thanks)

sorry for being a stick in the mud

i don't go out much these days

social anxiety coaxes out

demons in gestures most mundane

sorry for everything, i know you

wanted to see gojira play

social anxiety coaxes out

demons in gestures most mundane

another compo, another song where i only manage to write a verse and a chorus

(i guess it's time)

pack my things and go

'cuz i don't want to

deal with your shit no more

i bid you adieu

with all you put me through

and all i bled for

won't take more blows from you,

my so-called mentor

call disconnected

call it what you want,

but don't call to ever touch base

why ya still askin' for me?

ain't this you meant

when you said that you wanted space?

i wanted to capture the spirit of hearing a live jam in the park, something i've sorely been missing ever since i started working from home regularly. in-universe i pictured this happening by the benches near the route 35 entrance.

part of what drove the instrumentation for this was choosing/prioritizing acoustic instruments that were easy to lug into a park (well, save for the double bass.) as such, the drum section was replaced with bongos, a shaker, a tambourine, and a couple of human sounds (stomps and claps.) hopefully that's still considered MnP.

title is a play on the french title for Georges Seurat's "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte," which was a huge inspiration for this arrangement!

by the campfire, you reminisce about how you got here --

a sharp turn, a crash, a fall

partially inspired by mr. weeks himself. love you, t.

[lyrics]

you're the kind of tired sleep can't fix

and i'm so sick of watching

my cursor blink

so lets go

to the motel

on east young ave.

where we necked our first o'douls

we were young once, right?

tropicana waits

for me and you

was it really easier back then?

'cuz i had a stick up there

and you were much quieter then

let's just go

to the motel

on east young ave.

where you lost all your belt loops

you were young once, right?

tropicana waits

for me and you

but we'll go

to the motel

on east young ave

where i realized i love you

i was young once, right?

tropicana stays

for me and you

lyrics? in an hour? impossible

lyrics:

spent my days sittin'

where the grass ain't greener

you've got a new demeanor

is that what life's like

on the other side?

spend my nights wishin'

one day i'll be braver

i'll aim for somethin greater

but i can't move forward

no matter how i try

try as i may

i can't get over you

leavin me this way

try as i may

i can't move forward

try as i may

you tried your best i guess

but i just stay the same

you built the bridge

i can't get over it

(and you're gonna be okay)