Mic Drip

Some days go unplanned, and some need decision.

The preceding four days are immensely memorable, up to and including the dreams I had on each night and the morning coffee rituals.

I am drained. I cried in the office gazing at blank walls and windows, and then pulled over driving home to cry again on the sidewalk.

I picked up drawing again for the first time in six years, and swam for the second time in the same span.

I missed my normal open mic night on Tuesday because I had to deploy a production client app from the bed of my pickup in a rainstorm, in Capitol Hill in DC before all of my energy expended.

I could go on, and on, and on - only I already filled four pages of my diary to explain three days of this saga.

I'm splashing through memories I have had no recollection of for years, in sharp clarity and agonizing scope. I am seriously changing how I carry my body and my reactions to any of the scenarios I am coming across.

So, rather than drive home in that mood, I pulled over, as I said, to cry.

And I checked the schedule of my local bar, called As You Are. And I see that there is "Shower Karaoke" tonight and I remember some of the singers there had been leading some really good discussions.

And I'd like one more sample of the scene there. My songs are coming along, and I'm gaining experience, only I think they may end up only as poems.

I'm ready to see how much I can expand my range, and pop into the popular song selection, and see how my cooing cadence aligns alongside the normal repetetetoire.

So, one more drip in the ocean of emoción I'm carrying along these days, hope to see people I recognize and scream as much moody blue bliss as possible.