"I look from the wings at the play you are staging, while my guitar gently weeps. As I'm sitting here doing nothing but aging, still my guitar gently weeps." --The Beatles, While My Guitar Gently Weeps, Acoustic Version
George Harrison's acoustic recording from the anthology albums, subtle and hauntingly sombre, strikingly different to the version that ended up on The Beatles (White Album). I like them both though. I've been attempting to learn this one for a while now - so that it sounds at least half-decent anyway - though nowadays there seems so little time to spend slowly strumming away somewhere peaceful. No excuse really, I know.
Just another day, watching from the wings at the curious play of life being staged all around. Went out for lunch today on the way to pick up the new PA system and digital camera for work, sitting down to read The Origin of Species next to a table of Telstra workers, sharing stories that I couldn't help overhearing, about the troubles of their workmates and the company and various telecommunications adventures. Each seemed so captivated by the others' exciting tales, like it was all that mattered in the world.
While buying oil for the car this afternoon after work, a shelf stocker at Big W, evidently after finding yet another empty product packaging, remarked rather loudly that people mustn't be able to afford to buy things any more, they have to steal them right out of the packaging. I bought a new pair of socks while I was there also. All day long I'd been bothered by my big toe poking through a gaping hole in my old pair. Holeproof was the brand of these new ones - well, we'll see.
Was playing a little guitar earlier, but thought I should stop as there were some trying to fall asleep. Curbing your solemn song with respect to others; seems always to be the case. Perhaps just a little more with the volume turned down a touch lower. So now sitting here doing nothing but aging, shedding the seconds, silent tears of the weeping guitar.
Catching beatles in the grass