01/31/09

When Blondie (Chelsey, my BEF) finally came, I did the tradition of spraying Fabreze on her. While she was here, she did jerkish things and it was fun. When she got on my computer, I played my guitar. Any song that would come to mind. Majesty had a knack for making any moment become beautiful. I sat on my bed for hours while Blondie was being stupid on my computer.

I played “House of the Rising Sun” a lot. Unconsciously, it seemed to fit my mood. “There is a house in New Orleans. They call it the Rising Sun. And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy. And God, I know I’m one.” The song talked about poverty and sins. I wasn’t too sure what House of the Rising Sun meant. I assumed it might be like a place or state-of-mind where people do sins. I played on and on, often forgetting the rhythm I had made up, and then trying to make up a new rhythm. That would usually lead me back to remembering the rhythm I first made up.

Blonde finally stopped being stupid on the computer and looked at me with one of motherly looks. She told me to stop playing and that I couldn’t go on like this. I thought I could. It sure helped. Suddenly, I realized that Blondie had seen the reason behind me playing the guitar nonstop and playing “House of the Rising Sun”. I guess a guitarist has to be true to what they play. The reason I was doing this was because I was in the House of the Rising Sun myself. I finally understood the meaning of those words.

Blonde sat on my bed and kept telling me to stop. That it wasn’t healthy for me. She started pulling Majesty away from me. Just then, I realized how much I needed it. How much I had been leaning on Majesty the past few days. How scared I really was. Blondie tackled me but she couldn’t pry the guitar out of my hands as I hugged it to death.

“No! I wanna hold on to it! Cuz guitars are one things that never break your heart! Guitars never let go!”