Notes From The Flip Side: 08.06.2000
"I'm unconsoled, I'm lonely, I am so much better than I used to be."
Glittering caffeinated thoughts sparkle in the humid summer air. My new dobro shines on its stand and I keep thinking I need to get a slide for it even though it's just another way for me to make more mistakes. As sure as my hands are with a pen and my feet are with running to another second chance at something better, my fingers stutter on the fretboard just like my mouth stumbles as I try to say what I really mean. It's so much easier to say what I need to when I'm alone and writing; standing face to face with someone and trying to explain how I feel about them is almost impossible.
I'm painfully shy and it's one of many bad habits I'm trying to break. I've been living inside a hermit crab shell for 28 years and my only exit seems to be cracking another futile carapace that I never should have crawled into.
My hands are bleeding from too much time holding strings. My ears are ringing from listening to "Aside" for the last hour and my throat feels raw from singing along.
The Weakerthans "Left and leaving," Sunday Drive, Notice, tiltWheel/Oval split 7", Bruce Springsteen "Born in the U.S.A."