So I sit down at the piano, and I can't really organize anything into anything that is unique. I feel like I'm just sitting there, not to let my tongue LICK THE KEYS! But to just be there. In the hopes that one day, one sorry day, it will amount to something that I'll enjoy for greater than an hour.
The typer, the typer. And the Holga. The want!
The songs I write. Well, there are none. When I do... Oh, lord, I'll tell you. When I do... You watch out. I'll never admit it. Never admit such a thing!
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