dmuff

I'm home from another music writing, liquored up night at the Bigfoot. I almost finished an allegro piece in D minor. It's like doing crosswords for me. It gets the analytical side of my brain working, and it also keeps people away from me. Firing neurons + people repellant =

My god, I want to play music for a living and be able to survive off of it. Being around it and writing it is not enough for me. I miss the playing, the energy, the moment when vibrating air molecules turn into crack cocaine. For me that has become more obtainable than love will ever be. Don't worry, I'm not going to go into my "I'm so alone bullshit"...I don't really care anymore, seriously. My priorities have shifted to the correct path, my heart has hardened, and I am ready to cowboy up and reorganize my life.

Part of progression is seeing the limitations of your reality and then completely disregarding them. They don't and never have mattered.

Currently Listening to:
Rick Springfield "I Get Excited"