something borrowed, something stolen

i've become less and less articulate in my music.
the songs i write feel like they are just coming from someone else. i guess it's a good skill to develop, the feeling of writing from another person's perspective, but not being able to write about what i feel is frustrating.

the only thing that gets me through a lot of the time is the prospect of moving to nashville and meeting a bunch of people who like the things i like and know the things i know. i hope they are there.
i want to sit around a table talking about the differences between nick drake and bert jansch and bob dylan, and get educated on the style of townes van zandt and dave van ronk. i want to be a folk guitarist. i also want to be a jazz pianist. and a great bluegrass multi-instrumentalist. i don't know, however, if i have enough time to do all of this. i have classes and life and things that are, at this point, almost getting in the way.
i still go by the theory that i should be able to thoroughly design my own education.

i learned some things this weekend and i want to write them all down and elaborate on everything, but i'm not sure that would be wise. i never know what would be wise.

i wrote a song this weekend, and i am satisfied in it for the sake of improving guitar skills, but i am dissatisfied for the sake of trite lyrics, and possibly trite chord progressions.

the upstairs shower is broken again. well, i guess it got fixed, but i'm scared to use it in case it is broken again. i'd rather not flood anything.

(i'm not moving to germany)

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