Muscle memories serve as incorrect anchors to the gravity of a weightless word. The dynamics slowed up at the wrong moments and we all felt ourselves tumble out of consciousness. Play at a low volume to conceive of fresh rudiments in philosophical ways. The humbling jam session is a room full of flavorful chops and group acknowledgment when a groove is extra tasty or tight.
Some weird insecurity. I lost my words. I was too careful with what I said and too prone to break eye contact and forget names. I introduced myself multiple times to people with high idiocy in my heart and the worst time for me to represent my self for a first impression is when I am alone and sedated by THC. Often a wonder drug to stimulate departure from concerns and that carelessness is accentuated by peaks and river beds. Blood flowing through canyons. All of the dead native culture. All of the foreign influence to put grey smog clouds in the air.
These barefoot hill folk, misunderstanding me for my cultural derision. Let the jam fly in all directions and play music with a stream of consciousness wit. Push and pull. Mostly listening and carrying the weight of open minded conversation with shared fingertips and no bravado. When taking a solo, make sure everyone knows where you are in the simply structure. When world beats take over and everyone starts hitting a drum to save their lives from inconsistency and non-partison participation. Meet me at the equinox. I need the feel back. We hurt inside after conversations. No one understands and that absurdity in my heart… that aching anxiety… nothing can make that disappear unless I allow it to depart from my brain.