SONG OF THE DAY: (No One Knows Me) Like The Piano

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The dark cold is setting in, dark when off to work and dark when coming home, embracing the cocoon psyche, curling up into seasonal fetal existence, keeping it close to home, settling into the place we know comfortably enough. “No one knows me like the piano... in my mother’s home...”

Never learned no instruments, didn’t have the guidance, or patience, or support, or wherewithal, or whatever the fuck, it didn’t align. So I write words, like a fuckin’ fiend, every way possible. It’s my escape, always has been, but escape is also catharsis. Still go there, but never enough, and people always try to put marketing angles to it, how to get paid, and you can’t get paid to heal in this devil system. “No one knows me like the piano... in my mother’s home...”

Holidays coming up with less family than last year, when I already had little left. Holidays coming up in little basement apartment with neighbor landlord old lady with dementia who bangs on the door end of every month demanding I pay her directly even though lease is tied to her adult children and I have to do what I’m legally supposed to do, I guess. Whatever. First winter in this concrete hobbit hole, settling into psychic fetal position until spring rebirth. “No one knows me like the piano... in my mother’s home...”

Oddly though, as fucked as my life is, as this city is, as this world is, I feel better than ever, more hopeful than ever, warmer than ever, more heart fire than ever. Expectations always lead to disappointment. There is no progress to be made. Just live fucking life. Setting in for the cold dark months feeling brighter and warmer than ever, building up my fire to be ready to explode with the spring time.