A sort of quiet, flipping through the pages of my life. Wondering. Sitting by the riverbank wondering. Watching others fill out their pages of life. Sometimes it feels like I am flipping pages without writing anything.
Waiting to hear your words, waiting to hear your music. Maybe I also wonder who you are, who you are.
Is it Colbie Colcat’s Breakthrough, it is a Kenny G, or 10 dance steps, too old to dance anymore by then. Or a violin concerto.
or infinite spinning loops
stuff found in my notebook