Leave these fields and skies of blue

This evening, as I walked home down my street, I looked up.

The moon and the stars are here. Even in this city.

Sometimes I forget that.

I miss the big open prairie skies.

I miss the horizon over the lake and the fields.

On my bus ride to university, along one stretch of Pembina, there is a field -of sorts- behind the big commercial buildings. As the bus speeds along, sometimes I can catch a glimpse of the open field through the little cracks between buildings, and it makes my stomach twinge.

I never realized how much I took these things for granted.

Weakerthans Binge

The sidewalks are watching me think about you.

The full moon makes our faces shine like over-ironed polyester.

I wait in 4/4 time.

And I'll cater with all the birds I can kill.

We wait till the dress rehearsal to say, I wanted it this way.

Let the rain be your applause.

Take this moment to decide, if we meant it, if we tried.

Depluralize our causalities.

Beauty's just another word I'm never certain how to spell.

My confusion corner commuters are cursing the cold away, as December tries to dissemble the length of their working day.

How many beautifully simple, clever lyrics can this man come up with? How is is so possible for him to write what we all live everyday. His songs are anthems for the incredibly ordinary.

Be the love you want to receive.

Schumann

For the first time in a long time, while playing horn, I had that feeling. That incredible warm, right feeling. Like, I want to do this for the rest of my life. I don't get that feeling very often anymore.

I don't know what I really want to do with my life. I love music. I love horn. I'm not sure if I am capable of committing my entire life to it. There is so much more I want to do.

Bye, Gimli

Looking forward to:

goofing around in theory class

practicing my bum off (partly motivated by fear)

dance parties

the condo

NAT looking forward to:

sitting alone at home

-40 bus rides

copious amounts of homework

wind ensemble