Gavotte

the blank blog screen terrifies me these days. i can’t even look it in the eye.

i’m not sure what i can put into it. the drain is clogged. the plunger is ineffective. i can’t afford a plumber, and if I could, I would not know how to find a good one. a plumber who can easily remedy what’s clogging things up between here and there.

yesterday’s piano lesson did not go well. i told Fred, my teacher, that the music book terrified me. i could not even look it in the eye. i have made progress, i guess. but maybe this “gavotte” by Handel is as far as i can go. at the end of the lesson, Fred told me to keep practicing that gavotte over and over again. i told Fred, this gavotte is crushing me. and the melody is so dull.

i have reached that place where the left hand and the right hand are supposed to move independently of each other. but they refuse to live apart, even when there relationship is not going anywhere. even though they each know that they could flourish and blossom to their potential when they are on their own. yet, this acceptance of compromise, of mediocrity, is all they think they know.

but surely there must be something to help them unknow it. to help convince them not to squander their dreams.  i don’t think  that “something” will be a gavotte.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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