Listen

Listen

Listen,
To the song here in my heart,
A melody I start,
But can't complete,
Listen,
To the sound from deep within,
It's only beginning,
To find release,
The time has come,
For my dreams to be heard,
They will not be pushed aside,
And turned into your own,
All cause you won't listen.
I have a gigantic headache from watching Dreamgirls with Naz (hence the title and song used for this blog post). The movie was honestly fucking annoying, the constant singing made me want to slap the shit out of Jamie Foxx and every other person there, except maybe Beyonce, cause she's a feminist, and Jennifer Hudson, because I mean, what kind of assholic person would slap someone like that after all she's been through? I'm certainly not going to be the first to do so. People might come after me and shoot me, cause we all know those hip-hop weirdos always carry guns with them and stuff. Why can't they be like those peaceful rockers, who just do a lot of drugs, but don't carry guns and threaten to kill random people? I'll never, ever understand hip-hop. For example, today, I turned MTV on, and that fucking ugly as hell pervert, Akon, was on, singing something that sounded like, "Nah nah nah nah nah..." over and over again. I turned to Naz and said, "You could lock me up in a room for 24 hours with this song and I swear, I'd never get it. People should just invent a hip-hop dictionary."
Listen,
I am alone at a crossroads,
I'm not at home in my own home,
And I've tried and tried,
To say what's on my mind,
You should have known,
Now I'm done believing you,
You don't know what I'm feeling,
I'm more than what you made of me,
I've followed the voice you gave to me,
But now I've got to find my own.
Naz pretty much died laughing when I said this, though I was being serious. Lawyers, I tell you, never take anyone seriously. But Naz is different, thank Ellen, since I'd never met someone with African roots who didn't listen to hip-hop, but seriously, I'm thankful that Naz doesn't. I need someone to yell out the lyrics to Aerosmith's "Crazy" (which, co-incidentally, is playing on my iTunes right now) with, and Naz gives me that, which makes me happy. Anyway, I kind of skipped Bible Knowledge this evening to spend time with Naz, which I haven't done in a long time. We jammed and stuff and I stole Naz's Alanis Morisette's "Feast on Scraps" album. Everyone should listen to "Fear of Bliss" by Alanis, I'll post the lyrics up here later or something so you guys can see how awesome it is. Okay, I'll admit the woman can't sing for nuts and is constantly going off-key (listen carefully, if you don't believe me), but there's just something about Alanis... I think it's her lyrics. See, this is why I don't listen to hip-hop. Because their lyrics don't mean anything! Now, my music, on the other hand...
You should have listened,
There is someone here inside,
Someone I thought had died so long ago,
I'm screaming out,
And my dreams will be heard,
They will not be pushed aside or worse,
Into your own,
All cause you won't listen.
As much as I don't like hip-hop, I'll admit, this is a good song. It's the best one off the Dreamgirls' soundtrack, and sometimes, I guess I feel like this. Like, nobody really listens, and even when they talk, it's just full off empty shit that's not worth saying, and if it's not worth saying, then why waste your breath to begin with? And then, there are the people who keep asking questions and questions and questions. Give me time to answer the first one before asking others! Do you seriously not realize that I am attention-deficit and there's only like, 0.5 things I can do at once? Honestly, this is why I could never be a celebrity. Press conferences would drive me crazy and I would kill someone and make the news for all the wrong reasons, and look worse than Miley Cyrus and Lindsay Lohan put together, and Perez Hilton would hate me and spend time blogging about me. This is why I have to hire Helen as my manager is I get famous, even if it's for something stupid, like dating Amelie or something.
Listen,
I am alone at a crossroads,
I'm not at home in my own home,
And I've tried and tried,
To say what's on my mind,
You should have known,
Now I'm done believing you,
You don't know what I'm feeling,
I'm more than what you made of me,
I've followed the voice you gave to me,
But now I've got to find my own.
As for my review of Dreamgirls, I think it was majorly annoying, except for some parts, and as far as musicals go, the constant singing gets annoying and made my brain bleed out of my ears. Take, for example, this lovely conversation I had with Naz while we were watching the movie:
NAZ: I have this buzzing in my head and I don't know what it is. *rubs forehead*
ME: *waves hand casually* Oh, it's just this bomb I implanted in case you ever leave me and take the opposing side against me in court.
NAZ: *rolls eyes* Are you stupid? *looks at my face as Jennifer Hudson sings* That's your unhappy face. I see it a lot.
ME: Bring me a big knife so I can cut off my head.
NAZ: *laughs ass off*
I don't know where I belong,
But I'll be moving on,
If you don't,
If you won't,
Listen,
To the song here in my heart,
A melody I start but I will complete.
Okay, now I have a headache all over again, just thinking about Dreamgirls. I was kinda laughing during the movie, too, since, there was this episode in Ugly Betty season one where Amanda and Marc (that's the gay guy and the bitch, in case you didn't know), were sitting around drunk, wearing dresses and singing the "Dreamgirls" song, which I kept picturing while Beyonce and Jennifer Hudson and the other girl with a big mouth (I can't remember her name) were singing it. And since I have a headache, the song now playing on my iTunes ("I Get Around by Dragonette) isn't helping at all. So yeah, I think I'm gonna switch off my iTunes and read for a bit, and go to sleep, since I'm not feeling too well, and there's somebody's wedding I have to go for tomorrow. And I hate weddings -- they're stupid.
Now I'm done believing you,
You don't know what I'm feeling,
I'm more than what you made of me,
I've followed the voice you think you gave to me,
But now I've got to find my own,
My own.

Lots of headache-y love,
Steph