Another day. Another evening where not even tiptoeing to my piano is safe. There are people in the living room, they keep throwing words at me, demanding some sort of response and no matter how hard I hit the keys to make the music louder, I still can't drown the fucking voices. I've been playing for, what, twelve years now? I would have taken this to be common knowledge to anyone who's known me for more than a day that I don't play and talk at the same time. This is what I go to to shut everyone out and it's not working anymore.
My beloved is falling apart from old age, the notes high strung and weak.
I'm at a loss. I'm not in a financial position to go anywhere to be on my own right now. But I crave empty space so much. I need a new space in a new place with new music, somewhere else.
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Change something. Get a haircut, make a new friend or break into a public pool and go skinny dipping at midnight. Quit your job and do something horribly irresponsible. Escape into hedonism and impulsiveness. You'll be right as rain in no time.
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