Bloody Hell, is sleep simply a thing of the past? Maybe my sleep schedule is just overly skewed, screwed and abused as my brain whirls and spits its opinions on the world and on relationships and on music and on pain. It’s been days since I’ve been able to fall asleep before dawn, and that 3-4pm nap I’m in the habit of taking right now really doesn’t make up for it.
Sorry I’m not going right into writing style questions – I’ve got more pressing things on my mind…. like the fact that it’s 3.21am, and I’ve just spent about an hour staring at the ceiling, in the dark, listening to the air conditioner’s duet with a cricket.
The last week has been full of Firedean practices, and they are as always, pretty difficult. I just don’t play other people’s music very well, and though I’m still very flattered that he asked US to accompany him, I’m amazed that he hasn’t just gotten fed up with us and thrown us out on our collective ass.
The last two nights have been full of amazing gigs – one at Java Mamma’s in Resiterstown, tonight at the New Deal Cafe in Greenbelt. Both in Maryland.
But I’ve just been so distracted! My brain can’t settle, and I can’t focus. Surprisingly, between that brain flightiness and the fatigue (they may or may not be linked) the gigs have still been really, really good. I must admit, I’ve gone into both of them kind of dreading the night… not in the mood to play…. but come out of them just high on strings and steel.
I don’t have much else to type right now. My brain just doesn’t have it in me to enact the proper censorship. The last week has just been so full of highs and lows from friends foes and non-Lovers and dreams – it’s got me wishing for handguns and gasoline. I’ve got to go get my baritone. I feel like writing something deep. Heh.
