Monday, February 28, 2011
I wish I could play the cello. Isn’t it haunting? It sounds the way I wish I did, like when I have something to say, but just can’t get it out. Then I wish I sounded the way a cello did. Low and velvet and people stopped in their tracks just to hear each cadence and hang onto each word I spoke.
I wonder what good ole’ Anne spelled with an E would have done with a computer? I like to think it would have thrown her for a loop. Her ruminations were based on the type of pen she carried be it scratchy or stub or just the right kind for loving Gilbert. I’m in a funk and its one that only I can solve. I’m afraid of failing. I like to end a phone conversation leaving the other person laughing, leaving a group the same way, leaving my last word as somehow profound or meaningful and if I can’t do that, I flounder.
My thoughts are all over the place, aren’t they? Tomorrow I get insurance and hopefully a good antibiotic.