So I sang again.

And I swear I am breathing better now.

This merits further examination.

Anyhow, here’s the vid.

Sorry about no LOS (Lyrics On Screen) this time. I got distracted messing around with some site that said it could clean up vocals and do autotune type pitch correction (it could not, in fact, do those things) and ended up using up too much of my time and energy to have enough left for lyrics.

Doing the LOS thing is a serious pain in the ass.

I keep hoping one of these sites that claims to be able to make a music video for your song will become intelligent and sophisticated enough to be worth using.

Honestly, all I really need is one that can transcribe the lyrics and generate a video that displays them in time with the music in some visually appealing way.

Doesn’t seem that complicated. Other sites have been able to do the transcription.

And AI image generation can almost sort of kinda handle text now!

Here’s an example :

It works best if you stick to short strings of text, so I figured I would keep it simple and express how much of rural America is feeling about him ’bout now.

Note : that is NOT Goofy.

I wanted to keep the image shareable, just in case I wanted to try to make it go viral, otherwise I would have made it way more obscene.

And you people know I could do it.

I mean, this is but a minor flexing of my powers.

The not-Goofy pic was the best of six attempts. Most of them look more like this:

I have been having a LOT of fun making images lately, most of which I dare not share.

Check out this naughty little toy.

I actually have a whole backstory for this character. His name is Rico and he has clawed his way (sometimes literally) to the top of the heap in the Sultan’s harem and become the big man’s absolute favorite toy, and is always available when the Sultan needs someone to talk to, someone who’ll listen, or someone to fuck up the ass with wild abandon in order to let off some steam.

Rico is very proud of the role he’s played in easing tensions between nations.

When the Sultan doesn’t need him, however, Rico keeps himself busy ruling over the rest of the Sultan’s harem, making sure they keep themselves as fuckable (and fuckworthy) as possible for the Sultan and his guests.

The Sultan loves giving his favorite supporters access to his world famous harem.

Rico is a strict but benevolent (ish) ruler. He might crack the whip a bit too hard and be a little too free with the sarcasm at times, but he’s also fiercely loyal to all his girls and boys (and livestock) and looks after them like a mother hen.

And his subjects have come to rely on his swift and final approach to conflict disputes.

“Give him the sword back and NO MORE FUCKING ARGUING!”

It’s not for everybody but it works for him.

Aaaaaanyhow, I mean it when I say I think that singing helps my breathing. It’s like it somehow frees up trapped yawns and afterwards I am breathing more freely because the singing cleared out some bad air and expanded my lungs.

This jibes with what I have heard about singing being good for sleep apnea. So I guess it turns out that the rumours are true.

Shame that I pretty much only have one song a week in me. Doing it more often than that feels like a total drag.

But I think I sound reasonably good. And I get better with each song.

I wonder how hard it is to become a session vocalist.

More after the break

---

A bad moment

But possibly an instructive one.

Earlier I had one of my bad moments where it feels like I want to jump out out of my own skin from the tension of it.

But I decided not to just shove it aside like I normally would like I am burying a body or pushing a crazy relative back into the basement.

Instead, I sat with it and tried to think about it. What exactly was going on? Where did this terrible pain come from? Why do I feel so bad?

And I realized that it was like every muscle in my body was contracting at the same time and squeezing my bones and making them grind against each other, and that is what hurt so goddamn bad.

As one might imagine.

It all produces an intensified version of that “rusty” feeling I know all too well. That feeling like I’m the Tin Man in need of oiling.

Luckily, the feeling passed, and now I am left wondering what, as they say, the fuck.

It’s got to be something inflammatory. I really need to find a way to finally get those antihistamines I keep telling myself to get, because I get the feeling that my “allergies” cause way more than just sniffles and sneezes and it would make sense if a histamine response triggered body wide inflammation.

It’s possible I was a little dehydrated too. It can happen so fast.

And I have been struggling with not wanting to get up from the computer to go get more water. My inner child tends to be rather difficult about it.

But I am trying to dislodge myself from that rut. It’s very counterproductive. Hell, getting up to go get water is the best exercise I get most days.

At least it makes me get up and move a little.

And I am trying to tunnel through my own resistance so that the realization that I feel a lot better after my Kinsmen exercises can somehow make it through to the part of me that decides what to do and make what is clearly the logical connection : that it’s a thing I should be doing more so I feel better more often.

But there are miles of numb, dead tissue in between me and that obvious conclusion. Just so much mindless dead weight resistance to all forms of motion or change from the badly broken bulk of my mental illness that sometimes it feels like I have to tunnel through permafrost just to do absolutely anything even slightly new.

Till then, it’s just the same day, over and over, till the day I die.

That seems…. bad.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.