Not the Same
I'm beginning my second year of my master's program, but it feels like the first, because it's finally in person after last year's... stuff, which is starting to seem like this year's stuff but anyway we're in person for now, knock on wood. There's a song that repeats "you were not the same after that" and I don't think I ever will be. It's wonderful to be in person but it's sort of weird and overwhelming at the same time.
Speaking of things I haven't done in a while, there's making music. Even before the pandemic it had been a long dry spell.
Anyway, in my back-to-life optimism tonight I went to an open mic night at a bar. I spontaneously decided to do so at the last minute, which is relevant because it meant I drove there instead of taking public transit. And that, in turn, is relevant because I don't drink at all if I'm driving.
Anyway I got there and I already had a sinking feeling as I pulled into the dark, seedy parking lot, not of danger but just an indescribable uneasiness. Still I told myself I had to at least go in, so I went in and signed the music list and then had an hour to kill before people started playing, and I just... couldn't do it.
It was a divey bar where drinking was really the attraction, and I wasn't going to drink, and I was already tired, and not sure I had any good songs in me, and not feeling social on a Monday night. I asked the MC to cross me off the list, and she smiled with a certain pity and did so.
I don't know who I am as a songwriter at this point, and I knew I wasn't going to find out while overtired, hot, anxious and stone cold sober. It has to come down to inspiration, which is a more private sort of thing.
Upon arriving at home, as if to bless my decision to retreat, a lovely giant orange moon was rising.
Speaking of things I haven't done in a while, there's making music. Even before the pandemic it had been a long dry spell.
Anyway, in my back-to-life optimism tonight I went to an open mic night at a bar. I spontaneously decided to do so at the last minute, which is relevant because it meant I drove there instead of taking public transit. And that, in turn, is relevant because I don't drink at all if I'm driving.
Anyway I got there and I already had a sinking feeling as I pulled into the dark, seedy parking lot, not of danger but just an indescribable uneasiness. Still I told myself I had to at least go in, so I went in and signed the music list and then had an hour to kill before people started playing, and I just... couldn't do it.
It was a divey bar where drinking was really the attraction, and I wasn't going to drink, and I was already tired, and not sure I had any good songs in me, and not feeling social on a Monday night. I asked the MC to cross me off the list, and she smiled with a certain pity and did so.
I don't know who I am as a songwriter at this point, and I knew I wasn't going to find out while overtired, hot, anxious and stone cold sober. It has to come down to inspiration, which is a more private sort of thing.
Upon arriving at home, as if to bless my decision to retreat, a lovely giant orange moon was rising.