One of the rooms could go back in time. It was my thought the other night. How you could have the option to correct the bad turns in the road. Or just know enough to do things that would have a better consequence later on. I was trying to think this through but couldn’t find very many of those to think it would make much difference. Voice and guitar or base, instead of piano. Yoga and Karate instead of gymnastics. Stay at Birkbeck and buy a small london flat, when it was still possible. Don’t straighten my hair, but just let it be what it was. go to Berkeley first off. Work more summers. Be less worried or afraid of risk.
In my thoughts originally it was a whole scenario. Another avenue that might be interestingly tried out. But on the page, it is a cliche and I’m uninterested. . . I like the way station . I like the textures I invented. I like the way it feels to be there. It suggests a direction without being one. It feels like movement even if it doesn’t mean going anywhere. I like resting places. This wait here is not restful.
I’ve been feeling sorry for myself. Its anger. I am angry. I am antagonistic and unpleasant. I have a reason for this.But so what.