rock opera dream

I should be sleeping now. I should, I should. That way I am not in bed til 11 tomorrow. But I can't sleep. Every night its like this. 1, 2, 3 in the morning and I am wide awake, drawing, writing, reading, pining, watching, listening, pondering, avoiding, many of the -ing words. Gerunds, isn't that what they are called? I can't remember.

Anyways, now I am playing the waiting game. Really this whole ordeal is a waiting game and this is just a smaller game within the big game. So many is games. Games that aren't even that good. And sentences that aren't even that good because I know that is what half of these are. If I were writing this in a Word document there would be all these squiggly green lines under my, so-called, sentences telling me that they were fragments and that I should consider revising. But I am not writing this is Word. Thus I will let my fragments run rampant and hope that they can be understood.

There is a song called "Am I Understood?"...I can't think of who sings it. I should. I should know. What kind of music business student am I? I need to be up on all these things.

Maybe I could think of it if I didn't have the lovely, lovely Sarah Brightman filling my ears. I don't think Travis knew what he was starting when he gave me the cassette of the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack at such a young, impressionable age, but he certainly did start something. Ever since then I counted Sarah Brightman as the epitome of female vocalists and felt it was just short of blasphemy to cast Emmy Rossum as Christine in the Phantom. Really, if we could go shopping for a new voice, who wouldn't have Sarah Brightman's in their top 3? A crazy person, thats who. And to age like she has, whoa. I'd be happy if i was that attractive at 30 and she is nearly 50. And she gets to wear amazing clothes and be in [sub-par] bloody rock operas. I don't care if it was a bit of a let down, I would love to be a rock opera.

If I were in a rock opera...oh man...my happiness level would be through the hypothetical roof. I would wear super edgy clothes with corsets and lots of tulle and crazy hair, probably white, and I would have a keytar. A Roland AX-7. I would rock it like some sort of musical goddess and there would be a large group of people dancing and singing. Gloriousness. Maybe with all my time I should write a rock opera. But I don't know what it would be about. The only rock operas I can currently think of are Tommy and Repo: A Genetic Opera since we just watched that one. So I guess I could write about a bunch of things, but not blind pinball prodigies and human organ repossession. That seems to leave quite a few open doors.

On that note, I do believe my sleeping pill is beginning to take effect which means I should hop in bed before I pass out at my computer and wake up with an angry neck/back/bum.

Maybe I will have a dream of something work rock opera-ing about. Like a giant attack tortoise.





"Come, Nadia! Let us dance like children of the night!"