Blues is easy to play, but hard to feel.



"All I'm writing is just what I feel, that's all. I just keep it almost naked. And probably the words are so bland" - I can hardly control my patience anymore or, hardly ignore the pitifulness of people surrounding me even my friends or people i come into contact with everyday at school. finding myself trying to drift away from them or not making effort. this will pass i have no doubt. And as of late Im more so lingering around with who or whatever is making me happy. Time to listen to buffalo soldier and play with Romeo. self note, those wounds aren't going to heal if you keep picking them soars