It doesn't strain my self-awareness to realize that I'm only happy when I'm playing. These days I don't play all that much. Uh oh.
I've never really looked for work. Seems tacky.
Sometimes I find myself fantasizing about playing in a rhythm and blues band six nights a week, five hours a night. I'm aware that the fantasy only holds up if we could play different songs every night. You're starting to understand my self-imposed dilemma here, aren't you?
Other "necessities" have dropped off my list. I'm gonna spare you the whining about love and romance.
It's getting all zen around here. I haven't given up much but a lot has given up on me.
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