I will be tapping on desks very rapidly with my pointer and middle finger. This is build up necessary strength. To finger pick break downs. (To non musicians this probably sounds dirty and disgusting.) Also begins the vocal training that I've been putting off. The CD's all around with so many great exercises. My excuse could be the dry air and my dusty throat. I feel I've swallowed fragments of sand paper. (When I'm casual and feel like nothing is at stake I take more comfortably with pretty women.) Let's go on a hike and get lost in the woods together. We can build a fire to stay warm in our tent. (The fire goes outside, mind you.) We can pierce ourselves with sharp branches, disinfect with herbs, and wash in mountain rivers before they become polluted by man. We will have to get really high to make this happen. Above the treeline perhaps. But we want the subtle shade of trees the comfort among the giants the dormant sleeping monstrosities some zapped and cracked down the center by rogue lightning, the electric current dying underground somewhere, probably burning and killing insects at least a few feet burrowed near the scene, or the tree consumes all electricity, it is like ten thousand cow tazers if touched directly with infant hands, like downed power lines, like legless bobbing alcohol counselors, like the great apes who would have freely roamed this forest had the climate stayed as warm and calm as it is at the equator. (SO who is going to watch me die?) So much green in this evergreen sanctuary where running out in the road represents your true nature. (the southwest desert is dusty and restrictive. They fine you for J-walking off campus. They scare tactic you into submission and piss on you when you're down.) The girl who made fun of my beloved northwestern wilderness, the other girl who makes fun of my homesickness, the upstairs neighbors whose raucous sex spans the early morning hours in 15 minute sections, quick and violent. 'Move your bed away from the damn wall!' I want to say. Don't they hear the noise they're making at 2 am on a wednesday and then at 7 am. They are big people. Amorphous, loud, and perfect for each other. I hope they get married. Otherwise. I crank up the amp that doesn't belong to me. But the guitar and the pedal do. Made a personal press kit. Smiled.
I will have a good day today. It will be full of life and momentum
