Soul

A newness feeling, maybe "older" maybe "wise", but not likely. More of a "dumbass survived, lives to tell...blahdom" kind of feeling. I'm expecting something invigorating, but can't find the impulse to create a newfound expression to initiate action of any kind....

Out of the muck, tuned, a friend extends a needed hand, and...new notes project.

Not broken yet.

Ouch

The gimped left hand presses awkwardly against thin lines of steel, pushing with misguided might on the wood neck in an attempt to produce some kind of chord that doesn't sound like the woeful death of the tinman. Craping, arching weirdly, contorting, this atrophy digit collection makes me feel weak, insecure, desperate and slow.

My writings suck sometimes, I can't find the art in me on occasion, my mixes don't flow...but man, learning to play the guitar is hard work and I have a long, loooooooong way to go before I can even produce notes that are real.

Maybe I attempted something harder than I'm cable of overcoming. My left arm hurts, my fingers smart, my pride exclaims "ouch".