don't you know that i...

So I haven't updated in quite some time, but since I've been frequenting the blogosphere recently because several of my good friends are posting their adventures from super cool foreign lands, I thought I'd write a bit. And by write, I mean talk about music because, whether I like it or not, that's what comes out.

I love discovering unreleased songs by artists. It's like a secret treasure that they know not everyone will appreciate, so they don't release it to the mass media. Or maybe it's so close to the heart they don't know if they'd feel comfortable with their words being played all over top 40 radio or set to another character's story in a night-time soap opera. I recently came across an unreleased song byMat Kearney, one of my favorite artists EVER, called Everyone I know. He recently posted the following quote on his twitter: "a brave song looks away from nothing". I think every good songwriter strives to write a brave song, one that's fearless in execution. Leaving in the parts that your heart just vomits out onto the page and when taking a second look say mayyyybeee I shouldn't have used that word (exhibit a: this sentence's use of the word vomit). For Mat Kearney, this song is his heart vomit (I said it AGAIN!) He put it all out there. Described the situation as his heart saw it and became vulnerable. Maybe not to everyone, but to the person he loved: he gave his heart. I think that's what I long for, the courage to be vulnerable...

We pulled out on 65, saw Birmingham on a tuesday night

With your broken leg, our favorite song: "Julie, Julie" we sang along.

And our tired eyes pulled up the drive, could hear the phone ring on the other side

Of your front door, that your hands made. She was so surprised you came

and we talked about babies names, halloween in the pouring rain

And I fell asleep, on the couch and through the walls I kissed your moth

And I know what it's like

Cause everyone that I know

And every place that I go

And every story that I'm told

it's love. it's love. it's love

that we're looking for.

There's an outcry in the street where all the outcasts walk their beats

and all the widows and black sheep lay their souls down low to sleep

and i can hardly find the means or all the words i mean to speak

but still this fire inside of me, seems to much for me alone to keep.

And now the writings on the wall, forgotten crying kids

will you send a prayer for me? Will you help me to stand?

Because I know what it's like...