Song Writer's Block

      Once upon a time I thought that hitting my funny bone was what one would call…a real “bitch”? Unfortunately, I was sorely mistaken. There is in fact a greater evil out there.  A heinous occurrence I hope to encounter only on the rarest of occasions. This unspeakable anathema is dreaded by the best of writer’s, both young and old,  and is called (dun dun dun).. Song Writer’s Block. Most commonly described as: The feeling of being unable to formulate thoughts into sentences, accompanied by a suitable melody. It’s undoubtedly an awful and particularly dreaded feeling. 

     The whole Writer’s Block catastrophe happened gradually over a span of roughly 35 days. It began as a set of writings that amounted to be mediocre, at best. As the days progressed on I would write a song or two, but I would fail to give them endings. Now i’m 36 days deep into this circuitous entrapment that has become my sad life, due to writer’s block. And now I stand before you, a decrepit version of my former youthful self, unable to formulate a worthy chord progression.

     I feel as though I'm trapped against a wall and I don’t know what to do. Is there counseling that a person in my situation can seek? Is medical help a viable option? Perhaps there is an “AA” group for people suffering from song writer’s block? I asked my family and they said, “maybe if you left that room of yours other then to get food you would have more inspiration to write.” So I tried getting out of my recently renovated cave of despondency, in hopes that something would strike a chord in my effort to deplete the writer’s block. I decided that there is no better cure for me then shopping, and I honestly had a blast blowing every last penny of my paycheck. The fun came to an unfortunate end soon after I returned home and discouragingly failed at yet another one of my hopeless writing attempts. I saw my doctor who in two short words told me that I “seem fine”. I still don’t comprehend how he gained enough knowledge to come to any conclusion, considering all he did was check my heart rate and once again confirm my unwavering 98.6˚ temperature. Lastly, after several visits to my quack of a therapist she ignorantly told me that my “only problem is how much I over analyze my inability to put thoughts to paper”. So evidently she’s a whacko. It’s funny, I always heard that therapists need more therapy then their patients, and now I believe it.    

          My family may not understand how my writing process works, my doctor may have not been the right person to see about this, and my therapist seemingly smokes crack, but I didn’t know where else to turn. I still don’t know where to look for guidance. I’d send a prayer up to the big guy, but he’s got much bigger fish to fry. It’s not that I’m incapable of going a week or two without jotting down a new song or idea that is causing such a panic. It’s the fact that the “bitch” that is the “Song Writer’s Block” sometimes doesn’t just ease away, come one sunny day. The “bitch” of all “bitches” clings to your mind, body, and soul, Sucking you dry of any content, melodies, and the most imperative of all song-writing tools, your hope. 

         Hope is what carries and nurtures a song from the first note to the last word that leaves a singer’s mouth, concluding a brand new work of art. Once the hope is gone any trace of inspiration let alone motivation has diminished right along with it. Tragedy strikes innocent lives on a daily basis. We get no warnings, no signs, nothing. We wake up one morning with our world in tact and end it with everything we once knew in shambles. As human beings we feel pain and we suffer when struck with loss, but if we maintain hope that better days are to come isn’t that all we need to prosper?

         I’m not talking about the, “I hope I get a car for my birthday”, kind of hope. I’m talking the hope that blacks and whites would one day attend school together, the hope that America would come together as one after 9/11 and pick up the pieces together, and the hope that with every bad time any one of us should go through the days that succeed are filled with happiness and love. I may be in quite the predicament when it comes to my “Song Writing Block”. I also may be a tad skeptical from time to time regarding whether or not this writing block will subside, but I will never lose hope. I’ve been on the other side where hope ceased to exist, and it’s a place I don't plan on ever returning to. What needs to be acknowledged is that hope isn’t just a word. Hope is a part of who you are, who you want to be, and where you wan’t to take your life. Life isn't remotely as easy as I grew up anticipating it to be. Life frequently pinpoints are weak spots and torments us until we give out. It's not the fairest of fights, but it's not just that you are unlucky or that I was dealt a bad hand of cards. The truth of the matter is that everyone has their problems and struggles, it's just those who never give up hope in themselves and in this world that flourish. In conclusion, from the wise borderline inappropriate words of the 80's rapper Nas, "Life's a bitch", he said it. Life may be a bitch but it sure doesn't stand a chance against anyone with a strong sense of hope. 

The Most Stressful Time of Year, Cookie Parties, & Insomnia

It's the Most Wonderful (stressful) time of the year.

Yippee. Exam week has arrived yet again. Let The Games Begin & May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor. Based off all the papers sprawled across my desk, floor, bed, car, bathroom, kitchen, living room, back yard and probably some other strange locations... my odds ain't lookin' to awesome.

All I hear is Christmas music but all I feel is coldness and stress caused by the approaching exams that could make or break my future. One second I'm like "Yah Rach you can do this!" The next I'm like "No. You are inferior. You cannot do this." This goes on for a while and is usually followed by a panic attack or two. It's all a blur. All I really know is that I ended up here somehow. 

And that's the story of Rachael Ann: Fight For Survival Exam Week Part 55.

I really do hope every one's week is going well and you aren't as stressed out as I am. 

Honest question time. Do you ever feel like every one is pulling at you and it's only a matter of time before you just lose it? It's just lately everyone has been pulling at me as if I have all the answers. Let me tell you I do NOT have all the answers. I do not have any answers. Except when it comes to food. When it comes to food then yes I have all the answers.

Speaking of food. If I actually survive this week from hell I'm going to host a cookie making party! Oh and all cookies are invited. No cookie shall be left out at Rachael's Holiday Cookie Bash!

Hehe when I put party in my Thesaurus the word rave came up. Just Imagine....

Welcome to Rachael's Holiday Cookie Rave: Bring your neon spandex, glow sticks, & candy jewelry. Don't forget to leave your moral compass at home! 

LOL. Joking. You can laugh. I'm funny.

Moving on. I've been debating whether or not too send out little invites via mail to my friends. It's such a cute idea but if I do that then I'm gonna have to go all out and deliver one bad ass cookie making partayy.

If I were to go all out I would:

*Send Invites Via Mail

*Purchase a Very Adorable Apron to Wear at this awesome Cookie Bash

*Make Holiday Music Playlist

*Provide Materials to Make Cookies

*Make The House Appear As If Santa & His Elves Personally Decorated It

*Some kind of Christmas goodie bag to give to all guests! 

*Get Family Out Of House

It could happen. But It could fail if the family does not scoot their boot out the door on the day of this bash. This notion is still pending.

On another note it's 1:30am. All I can think about is sleep. But Insomnia doesn't care. Insomnia wants Rachael to stay awake all night. Sit up. Lay down. Sit up. Lay down. Roll left. Roll right. Leg up. Leg down. Leg off the bed. Arm on stomach. Arm on bedside table. Blanket on entire body. Blanket on floor. Blanket back on entire body to shield myself from monsters. Head on Pillow. Head on arm. Head on wall as I continuously bang it until something inside me responds and realizes that 1:30am is a time for SLEEP!!!

Okay well I'm signing off. I guess I'll attempt to defeat the evil force known as Insomnia. Hope everyone has a lovely morning/ day/ week/ month/ year/ life. Seriously though stay safe and be happy :).

Ya girl,

Rachael Ann

 

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First Blogging Experience, Technological Challenges, & Defining Rachael

 

Hey hey hey! This is officially my first blog ever


I feel very cool right now. But you know what? I'd feel so much cooler if I were at a Starbucks. Sippinn' out of a Venti Iced Coffee no cream or sugar (highly unrecommended beverage choice, btw) acting like a hot shot. Don't you ever walk into a Starbucks and see someone typing away and you just think,"Woah... this person looks like a pretty big deal. Look at them just typing away. Look at that latte drinkin', sweater wearin', screenplay writin' guy with his computer at Starbucks go." When in reality that person prob just runs a blog. Which at the moment IS in fact a pretty big deal to me.

Speaking of big deals...I have my own website!! Rachael Pecaro has herown website.... Rachael Pecaro dot com. Excuse me as I let that sink in. I don't really know what to do right now, because I don't exactly know what to do with a website. Seriously though, what do people do with their own websites? Do they have to walk it? Does it need to be fed or does it feed itself? I...am not very good with the internet....or technology in general. I'm more of a pen and paper kind of girl. I am also 9 out of 10 times thatgirl who uses a TV or DVD player and next thing you know it stops working. When devices in my house malfunction the "Rachael what did you do to (insert broken device)?!" yelling matches begin. It's so sad, because I usually don't have any idea what I did to cause a device to malfunction. So generally when I'm getting interrogated by an angry family member on why a device has stopped working I just kind of stand there with my eyebrows arched in confusion and hope they figure it out. Lord knows I won't be the one to diagnose the problem. 

Well.. that was a strange little rant on how technologically challenged I am. Don't ever say I didn't warn you. Perhaps a subject change is in order. Considering this is my first blog I think it's necessary I tell you a little about who this so called Rachael girl is. 

Okay. Hi. I'm Rachael. And honestly the question of who I am is something I ask myself every day. Maybe a few years ago I could've answered this question with no problem, but growing up complicates everything. Once you hit a certain age how you define yourself no longer relies upon which clique you spend time with, what team you're on, or who your family is. Therefore, how you are defined is based off of you alone. 

Who am I? This is a question I spent about two semesters avoiding. And this is still a question I can't answer. Because, well I am a bunch of things. The one thing I know for sure is that I'm still learning. Every day I learn something new about myself and about this crazy world we live on. I'm no stranger to making mistakes. I make them. All the time. Sometimes I even make the same mistake a couple of times just to make sure it really was a mistake (usually is). But somehow, even through my worst, most embarrassing, gives me goose bumps just thinking about kind of mistake.. I have managed to pull through.

On this November day in the year 2013 what I can tell you is that who I am today most likely will not be who I am 5 years from now. I mean, I definitely am not the same person today that I was last year. Because with each experience, each loss, each mistake, each heart break, & each moment I have faced thus far in my life, without even knowing, was shaping me into who I will one day become. From time to time I may feel as though "I'm nineteen omg what am I gonna do? who am I gonna marry? where am I gonna live?" are the questions I need to be asking myself. But, no I am nineteen. I am learning and dealing with every single decision I make. I may get knocked down a whole lot more then I ever planned, but I am still a teenager. I am allowed to not know who I am or what I want. 

My mind is constantly running. One minute I'm thinking about one thing and then the next I've moved onto the most random subject. This is my first blog post so I don't know if there is a certain way to execute this. But I'm going to do my best to keep this light and fun to read. Anyway, these blogs will just give you the biweekly(hopefully) look into my mind. 

And on that note this post is officially terminated. 

Love, love, love you all

Rachael Ann 

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