Charlotte Campbell Rocks The World

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23-01-2014 Thursday

 

16.00

 

Maybe there’s a poet hiding deep inside all of us, or maybe just deep inside of me. I don’t know. Yesterday was my first serious attempt of writing lyrics to an unwritten song. As I don’t play any musical instruments, it will probably just be lyrics to unwritten songs for as long as I’ll live. Mum does not want me to learn to play any instruments, because she does not want the agony of having to listen to me rehearse. Besides that I think Mum hates music altogether. We used to have a neighbour who practised playing the violin and Mum said it sounded like a cat’s tail had got stuck in the door. Can I blame that neighbour for ruining one of my dreams? Thanks neighbour!

 

The reason I decided to write some lyrics is, weirdly enough, also because of Mum. Although I do not think she realizes it. The other day she came home from a visit at Foyles down at South Bank and she said she’d seen this lovely girl playing the guitar and singing to it. As Mum thought I would have probably enjoyed it, she decided to buy the CD (cold comfort for not letting me learn to play my own instruments). The name of the girl is Charlotte Campbell and the album is called Blue Eyed Soul. The girl is really pretty and I like her voice. Too bad Mum didn’t take me to Foyles. I would have liked listening to Charlotte and I could do with some more books as well.

 

Talking about books. Today I went back to school, because I felt well enough, but I knew I should have stayed at home. We have to read a Shakespearian play. Even though I really like reading, I don’t like reading at all. I mean, I don’t like the books school comes up with. I’d rather read books like the one I told you about by Alex Boese. Way more interesting than some boring old play by a dead guy who probably didn’t even write the plays himself, because he was too busy dating women. Nuff said.

I’m drifting away from the subject, aren’t I? So, as I said, Mum came home with this CD and it really inspired me to write my own things. Maybe one day I’ll learn to play an instrument and then I could write my own music to the lyrics. I’m not much of a singer; I’ve got the voice of a thousand monkeys (that’s what Dad always says when he hears me singing under the shower). Till the day comes I can play the bass, the guitar, the drums or whatever, I’ll probably have to wait till some musicians come knocking on my door to ask me if I would like to write their lyrics for them or if they could use the ones I’ve already got. That’s it and that’s that. See me tomorrow. 

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