high-bar baking

“I bet this road’ll take me out of here / Take me far away from Amarillo”

Sometimes you bet wrong. The road didn’t take me out of here. It took me right back to where I had already been. Where I thought I’d gotten out the first time, only to make the same mistake again.

“So I’ll grab the wheel and I’ll point it west / pack the good and leave the rest / and drive until I find the missing piece. / You said I wouldn’t get too far / on a tank of gas and an empty heart / but I’ve got everything I’ll ever need.

I’ve got this old guitar and a brand new set of strings.” 

I pulled out the guitar today. Because it was quiet uptown. Because I’m taking a step back. Because I needed something to do with my hands, and because I think I want those callus scars back. When I started, I remembered how much I enjoyed it. Even if Cate’s Brother will not seem to line up with the strumming pattern I’m supposed to be using. Perhaps because it won’t line up. Because I have to try. 

It’s good to try. It’s time for effort again. It’s buzzcut season anyway. 

I made snicks, pan-banging ones this time.  Because people love snicks. Particular people love snicks. And no matter how bourgeois I pretend that they are, I love snickerdoodles too. I was going to give them as a message, but I kept it to myself. It’s best to grab the wheel and be gone.