Post by Zip on May 18, 2009 17:45:14 GMT -5
Performing the ritual, the knobs tuned, twanging up and down in pitch, trying to match each other in the harmony of G.
Strumming, improvising, she looked up and down her old battered guitar, the famililarity warming up. There was no other feeling than the one you got when you had an old, beaten insturment that helped you through, that helped you through all the times that condescended your being. They helped select your attention to something productive, to just...be.
Her hand shot up and threaded the short hairs behind her ear, sighing. There were hardly any thoughts muttering through the air, and June was a bit disappointed. That meant the werewolf-boy Alex hadn't arrived yet. The song she roughly plucked out was one of her first songs she learned by ear, and thought that maybe it was something that could have sentimental value. It was the song of her beginning, and it would be his.
'Course, she didn't bother to search and see what kind of music he liked, so maybe he wouldn't appreciate it. He wouldn't voice it either, poor boy, but he wouldn't have the balls to leave. A very spacey mind, too, which was always fun.
Like playing a game of Madlibs, filling in the blanks and being surprised with the results later on.
Her fingers trailed quietly, settling themselves on A Major. Humming that oh-so familiar tune, "Ten Years Gone".
Before she turned around, she heard a voice becoming progressively louder--obviously not speaking out, but in their head.
Know the course may change sometime,
Rivers always reach the sea...
-Ten Years Gone, Led Zeppelin
Strumming, improvising, she looked up and down her old battered guitar, the famililarity warming up. There was no other feeling than the one you got when you had an old, beaten insturment that helped you through, that helped you through all the times that condescended your being. They helped select your attention to something productive, to just...be.
Her hand shot up and threaded the short hairs behind her ear, sighing. There were hardly any thoughts muttering through the air, and June was a bit disappointed. That meant the werewolf-boy Alex hadn't arrived yet. The song she roughly plucked out was one of her first songs she learned by ear, and thought that maybe it was something that could have sentimental value. It was the song of her beginning, and it would be his.
'Course, she didn't bother to search and see what kind of music he liked, so maybe he wouldn't appreciate it. He wouldn't voice it either, poor boy, but he wouldn't have the balls to leave. A very spacey mind, too, which was always fun.
Like playing a game of Madlibs, filling in the blanks and being surprised with the results later on.
Her fingers trailed quietly, settling themselves on A Major. Humming that oh-so familiar tune, "Ten Years Gone".
Before she turned around, she heard a voice becoming progressively louder--obviously not speaking out, but in their head.
Know the course may change sometime,
Rivers always reach the sea...
-Ten Years Gone, Led Zeppelin