I want to drum.
I really want to drum.
I have a beat stuck in my head that I want to drum.
I love beats.
I love rhythms.
Such wonderful poetry, I know. But whoever said I needed to be a poet to drum? I don’t know anything about anything. My life is going nowhere. And I’m scared of the people on my thesis committee. And I got an email this morning. I’m hoping it was for the very non-scary reason that I came up with, otherwise I’m about to have a mini panic attack.
What a wonderful first post. Don’t you just love the beauty in my writing? How my thesis won’t pass with such incredible writing is beyond me.
“And it’s one, two, three, on the wrong side of the lea. What were you meant for? Whatever you’re meant for. And it’s seven, eight, nine, get your shuffle back in line.”
I stop there, I disagree with the next line.