Folded Hearts, Cheated Blacks
I wished I had a voice like Junior Kimbrough, able to translate all the emotions I feel into simple verses and rhymes. Unfortunately, I think too much, and even when I write it down, it comes out as a muddled mess, and there’s always something to edit, something to change.. and it never comes out raw, or transient, like the way it was supposed to.
I hope I have the capacity for the blues one day, I’m really not practicing the guitar as much as I should. I’ve been playing for years, and my skills have plateaued. But when I learn something new, I get so lazy, and.. I’m not pursuing my craft.
It kills me that I waste time like this. It kills me when there are things I could be doing, but I end up.. staring into space, dreaming that I’ll get there when I haven’t taken the first step.
Curse this rain, it blinds my eyes.